What Holly Heard (7 page)

“Before we go,” Holly insisted, “I have to know what we're doing!”

“Nothing,” Miriam replied. “We don't have to do a thing.”

Holly gaped at her. “Are you kidding?”

“Holly,” Ruth began.

“We have to—”

“Holly.”
Ruth yanked her sleeve.

“What?” Holly growled, her teeth clenched.

“It's Noah,” Ruth replied, gazing over Holly's shoulder.

Miriam spun around. She drew in a quick breath.

Noah Brennan was walking toward them!

“Oh, no,” Holly whispered.

Noah looked frightening. So tired, his hair uncombed and hanging in his face. His eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot.

“What do we do?” Holly whispered.

“Don't say a word,” Miriam replied. “He doesn't know you overheard them in the parking lot.”

“So you
do
believe they did it,” Ruth muttered.

Miriam ignored her.

Noah's eyes leveled on the three of them as he approached. His eyes were hard and cold.

Miriam shivered.

Noah stopped in front of them. He rubbed his unshaven chin as if sizing them up.

“Noah?” Holly asked cautiously.

“I guess you heard about Mei's mom,” he murmured, his voice strained.

They nodded.

“We're so sorry,” Miriam offered. What could she say to this …
killer?

Stop it,
she told herself.
You have no proof. So just stop.

“Mei's really wrecked,” Noah said. “I am, too. I came to school to get her work for the rest of the week.”

He turned his eyes to Holly.

Miriam swore she saw her friend shrink three inches.

“I saw you at the game Saturday,” he said.

Holly blinked. “You did?”

“Yeah. In the parking lot. You were on your way to your car.”

Miriam's eyes were locked on Noah's hands.

Could those be the hands of a killer? Could they have pushed Mrs. Kamata down the stairs?

“I gotta go,” Noah said, his eyes regaining their far-off glaze. “I'll tell Mei you're sorry about her mom.”

Miriam gulped.

“Thanks,” Holly mumbled. “We—we'll call Mei later.”

Noah moved off, down the hall and out of sight.

They all collapsed against the lockers. Miriam wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the gooseflesh under her fingertips.

Holly whirled on her.
“Do you believe me now?”

Miriam stared at her best friend. She didn't know what to think.

“Did you hear him?” Holly cried. “Did you hear what he said about Saturday night?”

“Holly …”

“Did you see the way he looked at me?”

Miriam pictured Noah's cold eyes.

“They
saw
me, Miriam! They know I heard them plotting to kill Mei's mom,” Holly's voice was shrill.

“They know—and now they're going to kill me, too!”

“D
on't be ridiculous,” Ruth said. “Noah is just upset. He wasn't threatening you.”

“No,” Holly moaned, shaking her head. “I could see it in his eyes. He
knows.”

“Holly,” Miriam said. “Think about what you're saying. You're talking about murder.”

“I
know.
Don't you think I know that?” Holly's voice came out shrill and high.

“Holly!” Miriam pleaded. “Noah didn't mean anything by what he said. He didn't kill anybody. He came over here to tell us about Mei's mom.”

“Be careful,” Ruth warned. “If you spread false rumors about them, they'll be hurt. And furious. You don't really believe they would kill someone.”

“How can I
not
believe it, Ruth?” Holly shrieked.
“You weren't there. You didn't hear how serious Noah was.”

“Ruth is right,” Miriam said. “If you spread this rumor, Mei and Noah would be destroyed. Everyone will think they're guilty just because you accused them.”

“What if they
are
guilty?” Holly insisted.

Miriam shrugged. “Then they'll get caught. But not because of us. You can't say anything, Holly. You just can't.”

Holly heaved a sigh. “Okay. I won't say anything.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Miriam turned to Ruth. Ruth raised her eyebrows. “Don't look at me like that.
I
don't think they did it. Holly's crazy.”

“Thanks, Ruth,” Holly murmured. “Thanks for the support.”

“I'm realistic,” she replied.

“We all agree?” Miriam asked. “No one spreads nasty rumors?”

Ruth and Holly nodded, but the air remained tense. Miriam could feel the tension pouring from Holly.

Studying her best friend, Miriam knew Holly had no doubt that Mei and Noah were murderers. Holly thought they were coming for her next. She believed it down to her bones.

The worst part about it, Miriam thought, is that I'm not completely sure Holly is wrong.

Mei couldn't do something like that, she insisted to herself. Holly
is
wrong.

Miriam thought about Mei sitting at home, in shock, grieving, dealing with her mother's sudden death. Holly's melodrama had clouded over the real tragedy—the death of a friend's mom.

Miriam tried to imagine her own mother dying. She couldn't. It was too painful, too terrifying.

Ruth's father had been dead for three years, and from time to time Miriam could still see the grief in her friend's eyes. Ruth carried her father's memory with her like a dark shadow.

How would Mei cope?

“I have to get to math,” Ruth said, bringing Miriam back to reality. It seemed strange to have to go to class after hearing such awful news.

“Me, too,” mumbled Holly, still distant and brooding.

“Holly?” Miriam asked.

“What?”

“This is probably a stupid time to ask, but can I get a ride home with you again? I don't think I could take the bus after a day like today.”

Holly appeared confused for a moment. She shook her head as if to clear the memory of Noah's threatening eyes. “Sorry, I can't today. I'm staying late to help decorate the gym for the victory rally.”

“Who says we're going to win?” Ruth demanded.

“The varsity club advisers want to start hanging streamers and posters and stuff
before
the big game,” Holly explained. “That way we'll be ready to have a rally the next day if the Tigers win. I said I'd help paint signs.”

“Call me when you get home, Holly,” Miriam suggested. “Please?”

Holly nodded. “I promise.”

The phone rang at seven-thirty and Miriam jumped. She'd been deep in
The Scarlet Letter
for English class, and the shrill noise sent a shock through her.

“Hello?”

“Miriam, it's me.”

Miriam recognized Holly's whisper.

“Hey, Holl. How are you holding up?”

“I'm still at school,” Holly answered, still whispering.

“Why?” Miriam asked. “It's seven-thirty.”

“I was working late in the gym. Everyone's gone.”

Miriam felt a sudden chill. “What's wrong? Why are you whispering?”

“Nothing's wrong,” Holly replied, a little louder now. She paused. “That's not true.
Everything's
wrong. Will you come down here and keep me company? I'm seeing shadows everywhere, Miriam. They all look like Mei.”

“Just go home,” Miriam replied.

“I can't,” Holly moaned. “I promised I'd stay. Miriam, I won't be long. Please come down?”

“Holly,” Miriam said sternly. “Mei isn't going to hurt you. You're imagining things.”

Holly ignored her. “If you won't come down here for me, then come down because I have something important to tell you. About Jed.”

Miriam sat up straight. “What about Jed?”

“You have to come down to find out,” Holly told her. Then her voice grew fearful again. “Please, Miriam? I swear I'm telling the truth. I found out something about Jed. And I'm really scared.”

Miriam eyed her coat. “Let me make sure I can get the car.” She covered the receiver with her hand.
“Mom!”

“What?” came the shouted reply from downstairs.

“Can I borrow the car? Holly needs a ride from school.”

Holly had her own car, of course, but this was urgent. Miriam
needed
the car!

“Okay, dear. But come right back. It's getting late.”

Miriam uncovered the receiver. “Holl, it's cool. I'll be right there.”

There was no reply.

“Holly?”

Silence.

Miriam's heart began to pound.

“Holly?”
she cried into the phone. “Holly, answer me!”

F
ifteen minutes later Miriam pulled into the Shadyside High parking lot next to Holly's Camaro. Clearly, her friend hadn't left the school yet.

So why did she leave the phone? Miriam wondered.

The big double doors near the gym entrance were unlocked. They fell shut behind Miriam with a clank.

The main hallway stood dark and empty. Miriam paused, listening for the sound of other kids working. In the auditorium. In the library down the hall. Anywhere.

Silence.

“Holly?” she called.

She heard only her echo off the endless row of gray lockers.

Miriam pulled open the gym door and peered into
the massive room. The orange gymnasium lights were on, casting shadows onto the newly decorated walls. The floor was littered with pieces of crepe paper and freshly painted Shadyside Tigers signs.

No one in the gym.

Where was Holly?

Miriam called her friend's name again as she walked into the center of the gym.

No answer.

A heavy fear grew inside her. She suddenly wanted to run out of there as fast as she could. She thought about their conversation that morning—about murder and killers.

What if Holly was right?

No. Impossible.

Taking a deep breath, Miriam strode across the gym toward the boys' locker room. She peered around the corner into the short hallway filled with random pieces of athletic equipment. The locker room door was closed.

No Holly.

Turning back to the gym, Miriam looked toward the girls' locker room entrance. She could see a pile of art supplies just within the hallway leading to the door.

Taking a deep breath, Miriam made her way toward that hallway. As she approached, she could make out a
GO, TIGERS!
sign. A half-finished Shadyside tiger was painted on the plywood. She saw a tarp spread on the floor in front of it. She spied two dishes of paint and a brush as well—still wet, as if waiting for someone to return.

“Holly?” she called one more time.

The last time, she vowed. She wanted to get out of the gym as fast as possible. Her temples pounded. Her mouth had gone dry as cotton.

Still no answer.

As Miriam turned to leave, she noticed the orange light falling on something behind the hand-painted sign, partially hidden from view.

A strip of bright blue snaked across the floor.

Miriam's breath hitched.

Holly's scarf.

A chill ran down Miriam's back.

Holly never went anywhere without that scarf.

Miriam felt dizzy. She wanted to back away, run across the gym, out the doors, escape from there for good.

But she couldn't. She had to look behind the sign. She had to examine Holly's scarf.

She took a timid step forward, careful of the paint cans.

When she peered around the sign, she let out a gasp of horror.

Holly. Sprawled on the floor, her curls spread around her face.

A trickle of dark blood ran from her nose into her ear. The scarf lay twisted around her neck, its flesh an angry purple.

Was Holly breathing?

No.

Her hands were flung out to her sides, curved into rigid claws as if fighting off an attack.