'No, but I chalked it up to internal plumbing issues.'
'Then, last night, he mysteriously called in sick.' I scrubbed my pencil's eraser down the length of my nose, thinking. 'He seems to get sick a lot.'
'I think you're overanalyzing this. Maybe… maybe he has IBS.'
'IBS?'
'Irritable bowel syndrome.'
I discarded Vee's suggestion in favor of mentally stretching for an idea that floated just out of reach. Kinghorn Prep was easily an hour away by car. If the school was as academically rigorous as Elliot claimed, how did Jules continually have time to make the drive to Coldwater to visit? I saw him nearly every morning on my way to school at Enzo's Bistro with Elliot. Plus, he gave Elliot a ride home after school. It was almost like Elliot had Jules in the palm of his hand.
But that wasn't all of it. I scrubbed the eraser more furiously against my nose. What was I missing?
'Why would Elliot kill Kjirsten?' I wondered out loud. 'Maybe she saw him do something illegal, and he killed her to silence her.'
Vee let go of a sigh. 'This is starting to drift into the land of This Makes Absolutely No Sense.'
'There's something else. Something we're not seeing.'
Vee looked at me like my logic was vacationing in outer space. 'Personally, I think you're seeing too much. This feels a lot like a witch hunt.'
And then all of a sudden I knew what I was missing. It had been nagging me all day, calling to me from the back of my mind, but I'd been too overwhelmed with everything else to pay attention. Detective Basso had asked me if anything was missing. It just now hit me that something was. I'd set the article about Elliot on top of my dresser last night. But this morning-I consulted my memory to be sure-it was gone. Definitely gone.
'Omigosh,' I said. 'Elliot broke into my house last night. It was him! He stole the article.' Since the article was in plain sight, it was obvious Elliot had torn apart my room to terrorize me-possibly as punishment for finding the article in the first place.
'Whoa, what?' Vee said.
'What's wrong?' asked Coach, coming to a stop beside me.
'Yeah, what's wrong?' Vee chimed in. She pointed and laughed at me from behind Coach's back.
'Urn-the subject doesn't appear to have a pulse,' I said, giving Vee's wrist a hard pinch.
While Coach probed for Vee's pulse, she made swooning motions and fanned herself. Coach flicked his eyes to mine, looking at me over the top of his glasses. 'Right here, Nora. Beating loud and strong. Are you sure the subject refrained from activity, including talking, for the full five minutes? This pulse isn't as slow as I would have expected.'
'The subject struggled with the no-talking step,' Vee interjected. 'And the subject has a hard time relaxing on a rock-hard biology table. The subject would like to propose switching places so Nora can be the new subject.' Vee used her right hand to grab me and pull herself upright.
'Don't make me regret allowing you to choose your own partners,' Coach told us.
'Don't make me regret coming to school today,' said Vee sweetly.
Coach shot her a warning look, then picked up my lab sheet, eyes skimming the all-but-blank page.
'The subject equates biology labs with overdosing on prescription-strength sedatives,' Vee said.
Coach chirped his whistle, and all eyes in the class swung our way.
'Patch?' he said. 'Mind taking over here? We seem to have run into a partner problem.'
'I was so kidding,' Vee said quickly. 'Here-I'll do the lab.'
'You should have thought of that fifteen minutes ago,' Coach said.
'Please forgive me?' she asked, batting her eyelashes angelically. Coach tucked her notebook under her good arm. 'No.'
Sorry! Vee mouthed over her shoulder at me as she walked reluctantly to the front of the room.
A moment later Patch took a seat on the table beside me. He clasped his hands loosely between his knees and kept a steady gaze on me.
'What?' I said, feeling unnerved by the weight of his stare.
He smiled. 'I was remembering the shark shoes. Last night.'
I got the usual Patch-induced flutter in my stomach, and like usual, I couldn't distinguish if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
'How was your night?' I asked, my voice carefully neutral as I attempted to break the ice. My spying adventures still hung uncomfortably between us.
'Interesting. Yours?'
'Not so much.'
'Homework was brutal, huh?'
He was making fun of me. 'I didn't do homework.'
He had the smile of a fox. 'Who did you do?'
I was speechless a moment. I stood there with my mouth slightly open. 'Was that an innuendo?'
'Just curious what my competition is.'
'Grow up.'
His smile stretched. 'Loosen up.'
'I'm already walking on thin ice with Coach, so do me a favor and let's concentrate on the lab. I'm not in the mood to play test subject, so if you don't mind…' I looked pointedly at the table.
'Can't,' he said. 'I don't have a heart.'
I told myself he wasn't being literal.
I lowered myself down on the table and stacked my hands on my stomach. 'Tell me when five minutes are up.' I shut my eyes, preferring not to watch Patch's black eyes examine me.
A few minutes later I opened one eye a slit.
'Time's up,' said Patch.
I held one upturned wrist out so he could take my pulse. Patch took my hand, and a jolt of heat shot up my arm and ended with a squeeze in my stomach.
'The subject's pulse increased on contact,' he said.
'Don't write that.' It was supposed to sound indignant. If anything, it sounded like I was repressing a smile.
'Coach wants us to be thorough.'
'What do you want?' I asked him.
Patch's eyes connected with mine. On the inside, he was grinning. I could tell.
'Except, you know, that,' I said.
After school I swung by Miss Greene's office for our scheduled appointment. At the end of the school day, Dr. Hendrickson had always kept his door wide open, a nonverbal invitation for students to stop by. Every time I passed down this stretch of hallway now, Miss Greene had the door closed. All the way. The Do not disturb was implicit.
'Nora,' she said, opening the door after my knock, 'please come in. Have a seat.'
Her office was fully unpacked and decorated today. She'd brought in several more plants, and a panel of framed botanical prints hung in a row on the wall above her desk.
Miss Greene said, 'I've been thinking a lot about what you said last week. I came to the obvious conclusion that our relationship needs to be built on trust and respect. We won't discuss your dad again, unless you specify.'
'Okay,' I said warily. What were we going to talk about?
'I heard some rather disappointing news,' she said. Her smile faded and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. She was holding a pen, and she rolled it between her palms. 'I don't mean to pry into your private life, Nora, but I thought I made myself perfectly clear concerning your involvement with Patch.'
I wasn't quite sure where she was going with this. 'I haven't tutored him.' And, really, was it any of her business?
'Saturday night Patch gave you a ride home from Delphic Seaport. And you invited him inside your house.'
