After about four wrong turns, we found it. It was upstairs in the pediatric wing, at the end of a long hallway. Right in front of the nurses’ station.
Sam and I casually walked past, peeking in the door. As I’d anticipated, standing vigil not only over the phone but over Nicky as well was a large woman with salt and pepper hair. I’d bet anything she was Nicky’s mom.
“Okay, Sam, this is where you come in,” I said. “I need a really good distraction.”
She bit her lip. “Fine. But you so owe me one after this.”
I nodded. “Tell you what-I’ll forgive you for dressing me in those hecka-blisters heels.”
She contemplated this for a moment. “Just be quick. I don’t know how long I can keep Mom away.”
With that, Sam turned away and strode purposefully toward the nurses’ station. I watched her take a deep breath… then let it out on a sigh as she collapsed onto the floor.
Immediately the nurse behind the desk dove toward her, calling out to another nurse, the two of them quickly surrounding her.
As I’d hoped, Nicky’s mom came out of the room to see what the commotion was.
It was now or never.
I quickly slipped down the hallway and into Nicky’s room.
He was propped up in bed, a tray of Jell-O in front of him and a TV in the corner playing a SpongeBob episode. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, and I could see that his long hair had been shaved off on one side.
He looked up as I entered, blinking at me, confusion clear on his face as his concussed brain tried to figure out what I was doing there.
“Hartley?” he asked.
“Hey,” I said, quickly going to his side, one eye on the door, where I expected his mom to bust back in at any second. “We need to talk, and I don’t have much time.”
“How did you get in here?” he asked, looking past me.
I shook my head. “Not important. What is important is that you tell me what you were going to tell me at the park.”
Nicky bit the inside of his cheek. He looked down at his hands. “I don’t remember.”
He was the worst liar ever.
“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” I asked, desperation kicking in.
He looked up at me again. “I got hit on the head. I don’t remember.”
“You’re totally lying.”
“Prove it,” he said jutting his chin forward.
Since I couldn’t, I changed tactics. “Who attacked you?”
He shrugged. “I got hit from behind. I didn’t see anyone.”
“But I saw you arguing with the person first! You must have seen his face then?”
He paused, something flitting across his eyes. If I’d had to guess, I’d say it was fear. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t remember that.”
“Look, if you’re scared of this guy, the police can protect you. Just tell me what you know. Once it’s out in the open, you’ll be safe.”
“Right.” He snorted. “Last time I decided to tell you something I got my head bashed in and ended up here,” he said, gesturing to the hospital room around him. “The only way I’m going to be safe is by keeping my big mouth shut.”
“Nicky, please,” I pleaded. Sam could only play sick for so long. Any second now, his mom would be back.
“I’ve said all I have to say.” He clamped his mouth shut for emphasis.
“Nicky-”
But that’s as far as I got, as Mom pushed through the doorway. Her eyes narrowed, clearly surprised to see me.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice holding a sharp edge that said a call to security was about half a second away.
“Uh… I’m…”-I quickly grabbed a pillow from behind Nicky and fluffed it-“I’m a candy striper. Yeah, I volunteer here at the hospital. Just came in to make sure our patient is comfortable.” I gave Mom a big toothy smile as I replaced Nick’s fluffed pillow.
Nicky opened his mouth to speak, but I shot him a death look.
He clamped it shut again.
“Oh,” Mom said, her posture relaxing. “In that case, do you have any magazines? I’d really love something to read in here.”
“Absolutely,” I lied. “No prob. One magazine coming up!” I ducked my head to avoid Mom reading the lie plainly written there.
Which was my fatal mistake.
I would have totally gotten away without anyone being the wiser if I’d just watched where I was going instead of plowing headfirst into someone else.
“Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, whipping my eyes up.
Straight to Detective Raley’s.
Chapter Fourteen
“HARTLEY,” RALEY SAID.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, hi. We meet again, huh?” I commented, doing a poor attempt at humor.
Which, judging from the scowl on his face, was totally lost on him. He made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort and answered with a “What are you doing here?”
“I’m… uh…” I quickly looked around the nurses’ station for any sign of Sam, but thankfully, my accomplice was long gone. “I’m… volunteering,” I said, going with the same story I’d told Nicky’s mom. It was almost the truth. I mean, I had offered to get Nicky’s mom a magazine, right?
Raley narrowed his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Since when do you volunteer at the hospital?”
“Since today,” I squeaked out.
“Interesting timing.”
I bit my lip, but since he hadn’t phrased it in the form of a question, I didn’t feel compelled to answer.
Raley looked from me to the doorway to Nicky’s room. “You just came from that room?”
I nodded. Slowly.
“Nicky Williams’s room?”
“Is it?” I asked, all mock innocence.
Raley’s eyes narrowed into fine slits. “Listen, Hartley. Nicky has a severe concussion. He was attacked by someone who meant to put him out of commission.”
I swallowed hard. “I know. I saw.”
“Then you know this is not some game. Until we find out what happened to Nicky, I don’t want to see you anywhere near him.”
“But I’m this close to finding out who killed Sydney,” I said, stretching the truth just a little.
Raley cocked his head to one side. He took a step forward. Then in his most fatherly voice said, “Hartley, I’m sorry, kid, but Sydney killed herself.”
I shook my head, feeling my hair whip my cheeks. “You’re wrong. It was Twittercide.”
His eyebrows headed north. “It was what?”
“Never mind. Look, she was killed. I’m sure of it. Nicky being hit practically proves it!”
“Nicky being hit means he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You kids shouldn’t be in the park after dark.”
“Seriously? You’re calling this a coincidence?”
