Zapped by Sherwood Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

drugs, too. The guys who run it have their girlfriends hanging out there, so I took a bunch of the free clinic diversity flyers, and asked those girls if any of them wanted counseling. I figured if they ran me off, you’d see, and that was better than telling Harper and having her read your memories without your knowing. I hate that she saw mine at my worst. Without telling me.” She grimaced. “But I’m okay with her using her talent on Kyle, or whoever did it. Is that what they call conveniently adjustable ethics?”
    I had no idea how to answer that, and was glad there was no time as we rolled down the last of the bike path to the gazebo.
    Everybody was there, so I took the folder out of my backpack, and gave it to Fletch, who sniffed Kyle’s test papers. Tiny weird sparkles fluoresced around the papers, then Fletch looked up. “This isn’t the guy.”
    â€œHe’s not?” Harper exclaimed.
    I couldn’t help saying, “He sure acts guilty.”
    Mercy said, “I think so, too. I think he might know who did it.”
    â€œAll right, let’s go to the place where it happened,” Harper said.
    She’d gotten a senior friend to drive herself and Fletch and Bec, giving the excuse that she was going to write an article on hate crimes for the school newspaper. She’d already written the article, but wanted to visit the place where Michael was attacked for visual corroboration.
    There was no place in the car for Mercy and me, but as we had our bikes, this was fine. By the time we reached the corner where Michael was attacked, Harper and Bec were alone, Fletch nowhere in sight.
    Harper said, “Whoever did it stepped in Michael’s blood, tried to wipe it off, but didn’t get it all. Fletch said it’s easier if we wait here, as he’s faster when no one distracts him.” She turned to Bec. “I meant to thank you in person for helping out at the hospital. Fletch told me there was no chance he would have got into the storage area without you.”
    Bec had been biting her thumb. She yanked it down. “This is what we agreed to.” Her voice got softer. “And I like helping. It makes me feel…” She whispered the word, “Stronger.” Then, “But what do we do if we find him? We can’t tell anybody how we did it.”
    Harper crossed her arms. “If Fletch finds the bat, we could confront Kyle with the evidence, and demand the truth.”
    Mercy said. “How? Threats won’t work. Not with him.”
    Harper eyed her, then said in that challenging tone, “I didn’t think you were friends.”
    â€œWe aren’t,” Mercy said. “I hate Kyle Moore as much as he hates me, but I think threats are something he hears every day. The last touch football game I played, it ended at night. I was walking out to the parking lot. He and his dad were ahead of me. His dad kept smacking him on the side of the head. Saying stuff like ‘Why didn’t you catch that pass, dimbulb? Think a scout is going to want you sitting on the bench?’ and the last thing I heard before they got in the car was, ‘Stop sniveling like a girl or I’ll really give you something to snivel about.’”
    Harper turned away. Bec looked like she was going to throw up.
    Then we heard running feet and Fletch appeared, his face crimson, the chain on the side of his jeans slapping his thigh. “Found the bat,” he said, leaning his hands on his knees.
    â€œLet me guess,” Harper said. “It got thrown down one of the palisades.”
    â€œGot it in one. Whoever threw the bat got a bit of blood on their shoes, and the trail leads straight to a house.” He named the address.
    Bec took over, then. I didn’t see her leave, she was just gone. We all stood around awkwardly, Harper checking her e-mail on her phone, Fletch catching his breath, and Mercy and I waiting in silence.
    Then Bec