Change of Heart (18 page)

“I have to ask you something, Jon,” I said.

He nodded.

“It's about Sean's helmet. You tampered with it, didn't you?”

His lopsided smile turned into a crooked scowl.

“Says who?”

“We know it was you,” Morgan said, her voice shrill. “We know—”

I touched her arm to silence her.

“You usually back Sean up on the ice.” I spoke calmly and hoped that he would listen. “That's your job. But the night Sean was hurt, you took a penalty for something stupid—right after the assistant coach found Sean's helmet. You knew how Sean was about his equipment. You knew he'd make them keep looking for his helmet until they found it. And as soon as they did, you provoked the other team by tripping one of their players for no reason. With you out of the game, you knew they'd go after Sean. You knew he'd end up either on the boards or in a fight—and with his helmet sabotaged ...” I stared at him. “You wanted him out of the way, didn't you, Jon?”

No answer.

“One of the assistant coaches on the other team helped you. Wayne saw him go into the locker room right before Sean's helmet was found. What did you do, Jon? Did you make some kind of deal with him?” I remembered the angry voices I had heard in the parking lot. “Was your team supposed to lose? Was that it? But you didn't lose. You double-crossed your accomplice—and he didn't like that. That's why he threatened to go to the league and tell them what you'd done.”

Jon's already pale face turned ashen.

Morgan stared at me, a stunned expression on her face.

“You never told me that,” she said.

“I haven't said anything to the police yet, Jon,” I said. “But I bet Colin has. They'll talk to Wayne, and then they'll talk to Lyle.”

As soon as I mentioned the name Lyle, Jon sagged.

“You were in the arena before the game, watching your sister's skating practice,” I said. “You know where Wayne keeps his duplicate keys. You could easily have taken Sean's helmet. And once the police find out about that, they'll start to wonder about some other things.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said. “Like where you were the night Sean was killed.”

Sparks appeared in Jon's eyes. “What are you talking about?” he said. “You think I killed Sean?”

“You messed with his helmet,” I said.

He stared at me for a moment before finally nodding.

“You wanted to get even with him,” I said. “Because you were supposed to be team captain, but you were passed over in favor of Sean. And because he was attracting all the attention.”

“I did it because he was a jerk,” Jon said. “Because after he was named captain, he never let me forget it. He thought being captain gave him the right to boss me around. Bully me into taking chances the way he used bully Colin when Colin was backing him up—like he thought I should be happy to take a few concussions for him. And because he took credit for everything. Yeah, I know, the way he acts for the press and in front of the coaches. Perfect Sean Sloane. But when no one was looking—that was a different story.”

“So you sabotaged him.”

“Lyle asked me.”

“But why?” I said. “He's a coach. I didn't think coaches did stuff like that.”

“He's an assistant coach,” Jon said. “And he's coaching because he's a washed-up player. Thanks to Colin Sloane. Colin hurt him bad two years ago. He can't play again—ever. He hates the whole Sloane family. He knew how I felt. He thought I'd help him take Sean out.”

“And you did.”

“I helped myself,” Jon said. “If Sean was out for a few games, even the rest of the season, it would be good for me. It probably wouldn't even hurt his chances for NCAA. He and his mom had already visited a couple of campuses. He had plenty of opportunities.”

“But I heard Lyle say something about a double-cross.”

Jon shrugged. “I wasn't going to throw the game. I'd never do that. But if Lyle thought I would, well, that was his problem. What could he do—report me? He was in it as much as I was. I just wanted Sean out of the way for the playoffs.”

“And when it looked like that wasn't going to work, you got him out of the way permanently,” Morgan said grimly. “I hope they lock you up forever.”

“I didn't kill him.”

“You have no alibi for the night he was killed,” Morgan said.

“I was nowhere near the arena.” His eyes were blazing now. “I didn't do anything.”

“You told me you were downtown by yourself, Jon,” I reminded him. “Can anyone back you up on that?

He laughed. At least, he tried to. “Who do you think you are, the cops?”

“No. But I can always call them. They'll probably have a lot of questions for you when they find out you were the one who tampered with Sean's helmet.”

“I am calling them,” Morgan said. “I'm calling that detective—what's his name, Robyn?”

“Charlie Hart.”

“I'm telling him that there was someone else who had a motive for killing Sean—someone who had already tried to kill him once at the hockey game.”

“I wasn't trying to kill him.”

“If he'd hit the ice harder when that player dropped his gloves that night, it could have been serious,” Morgan said. “He could have died, and it would have been your fault.”

“Morgan—” I said.

She was as sure now about Jon being the killer as she had been about Billy. And when Morgan was sure of something, there was no stopping her.

“But, Robyn, he just confessed—”

“Wait for me outside, Morgan, okay?”

“But—”

“Please?” I said.

She glowered at Jon and then at me. But in the end she nodded stiffly and went out in the hall to wait. I turned back to Jon.

“You said you were downtown. Where exactly were you?”

He shrugged and then winced from the pain. “Just around,” he said. “I was angry—at Sean. Trying to clear my head.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No. I didn't want to see anyone. I wanted to be alone. I wound up in that old factory area by the water. It's quiet down there.”

“And no one saw you?”

“I don't know. I don't think so.”

“So why should I believe you, Jon?”

“I don't know. I don't care.” He sounded angry and frustrated. “I didn't kill Sean.”

He wasn't acting like a guilty person. He'd given no thought to an alibi. He clearly didn't think he'd need one.

“The cops are going to ask, Jon. They're going to want to check out where you were.”

“Well, good luck to them. I was trying to get away from people, not be around them. The place was deserted except for whoever was in that old flour mill. But no one came out, at least that I could see, and I didn't go in.”

“The old flour mill?” I said.

“Yeah. That big building. Yellow brick.”

“People were in there?”

“Yeah,” he said again, impatient. “I saw a lot of lights and I heard music, so I walked over. Something was going on in there. I listened for a while. I thought maybe it was a movie shoot or something.”

“What time was this?”

“I don't know. Ten thirty. Eleven.”

“Tell me exactly what you saw and heard.”

He thought for a moment before telling me everything he could remember.

“Okay,” I said when he had finished.

“Okay?” He sounded surprised. “That's it? Now what? Are you going to call the cops on me?”

“No. But I don't think Colin is going to keep quiet, so the police will probably want to talk to you about screwing with Sean's helmet.”

“I'll probably get suspended from the league. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have listened to Lyle. But—” He shook his head. “You didn't know Sean.”

No, I didn't. And I was glad. He didn't sound like the nice guy I'd heard he was.

“You what?” Morgan said when I joined her in the hall. “He admitted that he tampered with Sean's helmet. He admitted that he wanted to get even with Sean. He admitted that he wanted him out of the way. And you actually believe his lame alibi?”

“It isn't lame,” I said. “If he was where he says he was and if he saw what he says he saw, then it's actually pretty ironclad.”

“Ironclad? He said he was walking around in a deserted part of town where nobody saw him.”

I told her about my father's friend Hal and the new group he was managing. I told her about the top-secret music video shoot and that my dad had worked security on it.

“Nobody knew about it, Morgan. Nobody. But Jon did, which means he must have been there. And if he was there, there was no way that he could have been at the arena when Sean was killed.”

Morgan looked doubtful. “Maybe he saw the video shoot before he killed Sean. Or after.”

“I'm going to double-check,” I assured her.

“Good,” she said. “Because if it wasn't Tamara and it wasn't Jon, then who was it? Who killed Sean?”

Good question. But at least Morgan didn't regard Billy as the number-one suspect anymore.

M

organ came home with me. We had almost reached the second-floor landing when I heard the main security door open behind us. Morgan looked to see who it was.

“Oh,” she said.

Nick was in the lobby. He stood there for a moment, looking up at me. I thought he was going to turn and leave the building. But he didn't. He frowned and started up the stairs.

“That looks bad, Robyn,” he said, brushing past Morgan so that he could get a closer look at me. “Have you seen a doctor?”

I nodded.

“What happened?” he said.

“My dad has told me more than once that it's stupid to try to break up a fight unless you know what you're doing,” I said. “It turns out he was right.”

“You tried to break up a fight?”

“Dumb, huh?”

“You should put ice on that,” he said.

“I will.”

He looked into my eyes for a moment. It seemed like a heavenly eternity. Then he let go of me and started up the stairs ahead of us. I felt suddenly empty inside.

I glanced at Morgan. She just shook her head.

“Hey, Nick,” I said.

He turned.

“You were out at that video shoot with my dad, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“There's this guy who says he was walking around near the old flour mill. He says he saw lights and heard music.” I described exactly what Jon said he had seen and heard—and when. “Does that sound right to you?”

“It sounds dead-on.”

“Is there any way he could have found out about the shoot from someone?”

“Not that I know of,” Nick said. “And even if he did, it would have been hard to describe it with as much detail as he gave you. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“You're trying to help Billy, huh?”

“We both are,” Morgan said.

Nick glanced at her and then turned back to me.

“This fight you tried to break up, did that have something to do with Billy, too?”

I nodded.

“He's a lucky guy to have a friend like you,” Nick said.

He stared at me with his purple-blue eyes. I longed to slip my arms around him and to have him pull me close. That's when I blurted it out: “Ben and I broke up.” I hadn't planned to say it. But I had imagined myself telling him. Plenty of times. And I had imagined what his reaction would be. Mostly I had imagined him smiling at me and picking me up and whirling me around and telling me how glad he was.

But he didn't do any of that. He didn't smile. He didn't pick me up. He didn't whirl me around. He just said, “You'd better put some ice on your eye, Robyn. And stay away from fights, okay?” He continued up to the second floor and disappeared through the door. Morgan and I climbed up to the third floor. Morgan went into the kitchen to get some ice and a clean towel. I tried not to cry. Tried, but didn't succeed.