Change of Heart (9 page)

“That's it? You just left?”

He hung his head.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I kind of shoved him first.”

Terrific.

“I was leaving, and he came off the ice and started hassling me. So I shoved him. And he shoved me back, a lot harder. I fell into a pile of scaffolding—you know, from that work they're doing in there.”

“Did you get into a fight with him after that, Billy?”

“No,” he said without a second's hesitation. “I don't like the guy, but I'm not crazy, Robyn. He was in his hockey gear. He was wearing pads and a helmet and he had a hockey stick. You think I'd have a chance against that?”

It was the first sign of straight thinking I'd heard from Billy in a long time.

“So what did you do?”

“I left. I went home. The next day I heard he was dead. Then the cops came to the house with a search warrant. They said they knew I had been at the arena—”

“Because the janitor saw you.”

He nodded. “They knew all about what happened at school, too. But, Robyn, the worst thing is, they found a piece of pipe. They said it was a piece of scaffolding from the arena. There was blood on it. They're testing it for Sean's DNA. There were fingerprints on it, too. It turned out they were mine.”

I swallowed hard. It was as bad as my father had said—maybe even worse.

“Where did they find the pipe, Billy?”

“In my dad's shed.”

“How did it get there?”

“You won't believe me if I tell you.”

“Yes, I will. I promise.”

He drew in a deep breath. “It was stupid. The morning after I went to the arena, I was out back getting the trashcans and the recycle bins, you know, to put them out for pick-up, and I saw this piece of pipe lying in the yard, like someone had dropped it. And, well, you know my dad.”

When he wasn't out of the country working on mega-engineering projects, Billy's father loved to tinker. He had a backyard shed that Billy's family called his shop.

“I didn't know it was from the arena. It just looked like a piece of pipe to me. So I picked it up and put it in his shed.”

That would explain Billy's fingerprints. But obviously the police hadn't bought his story.

“Dumb, huh?” Billy said. “If I'd put it in the garbage, it would have been picked up before the cops came to the house. Maybe then they wouldn't have arrested me. I didn't do it, Robyn. I didn't kill Sean. You believe me, don't you?”

His eyes burned into me while he waited for an answer.

I nodded. Firmly. “I believe you, Billy.”

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“If you didn't do it—”

“It looks bad for me, Robyn. I'm scared.”

“My mom's really good, Billy. Everyone says so.”

“I know. But the thing is, it's not like the cops are looking for anyone else. They think I did it. They have a lot on me.”

That was an understatement.

“Your mother couldn't get me out on bail. She tried, but she said with a murder charge, they usually keep you locked up until the trial date. You remember those guys that kicked that kid in the park, Robyn?” People who had kicked a child to death. “I heard they were locked up for a year and a half before their case even went to trial. A year and a half. I don't know if I can stand being locked up for that long. You don't know what it's like in here. There are guys in here who are really messed-up. And they can really get to you, you know?”

I wanted to touch him. I wanted to hug him and reassure him, to tell him it was going to be okay. But one of the rules was no touching. All I could do was look across the table at him and say, “You have to be strong, Billy.”

“It's not easy,” he said. “Especially in here, when people think you killed someone. There's a couple of guys, they keep asking me about it. And when I don't answer, they get mad.” He let out a long, shuddery sigh. “Will you come back and see me again, Robyn?”

“Of course.”

“Will you talk to Morgan? Will you tell her what I said?”

“I'll try, Billy.”

I was glad he didn't ask me whether I thought she would listen, because I didn't want to have to lie to him again.

S

ean's funeral was held on Tuesday morning. The church was jam-packed. All of Sean's friends and neighbors were there. And practically the whole school.

I saw Sean's brothers right up front. A man and woman were with them. I assumed they were Sean's parents. Morgan was with the family. From where I was, the middle of the church, I could see that she was crying. Colin put his arm around her to comfort her.

Sean's oldest brother, Kevin, delivered the eulogy. He talked about how Sean had driven the whole family crazy when he was a kid because he always had a hockey stick in his hand. If he wasn't playing on the ice, he was playing ball hockey in the street. His room was plastered with hockey posters. All Sean cared about was hockey, and his obsession had paid off. It wasn't long before he was outscoring his brothers. Kevin said that it hadn't been easy to concede that his kid brother was a better player. But he said that they were all proud of Sean. They were proud that he had been scouted by big colleges, that he would have been offered a full scholarship wherever he went. Would have been. Morgan wiped her eyes.

Colin and Kevin and four of Sean's hockey teammates, including Jon Czerny, accompanied the casket down the aisle at the end of the service. Sean's parents followed them. His mother was leaning heavily on his father. Sean was going to be cremated, so there was no trip to the cemetery. I followed everyone to a reception in the church hall.

I'd been to a few funerals, and I always found it strange to see people eating and chatting, even laughing, afterward, while family members tried to put on a brave face. I saw some friends from school and drifted over to talk to them. I looked around for Morgan and spotted her standing next to Kevin. They were talking to Sean's hockey coach. I was trying to work up the courage to go and talk to her when a woman I didn't know came up to me and handed me a huge empty tray.

“Be a dear,” she said. “Take this into the kitchen and bring out some more sandwiches.”

To be honest, I was relieved to have something to do.

I passed Jon on the way to the kitchen. Now that the service was over, he had taken off his tie and undone the top two buttons of his shirt. He winked at me as I went by. I ignored him.

I pushed open the kitchen door and stepped right into the middle of a family scene.

“You should have been there,” Sean's mother was saying, sobbing and angry all at the same time. She was talking to Colin. “You told me you were going to pick him up. He was waiting for you. If you'd been there like you said you would, it would never have happened. My baby would be alive.”

“Laura,” said Sean's father. “No one can say what might have happened. It's not fair to blame Colin.”

“He's older,” Sean's mother said. “Kevin and Colin know, they both know—the older ones look after the younger ones.”

“But he—”

“It's okay, Dad,” Colin said. He looked miserable.

Sean's mother started to cry in earnest. Sean's father—I later found out that he and Sean's mother were divorced—tried to put an arm around her to comfort her, but she pushed him away. That's when Colin spotted me.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” said a voice behind me. Morgan's voice. She had opened the door to the kitchen but hadn't closed it again. “You didn't even know Sean.”

Being Morgan and being angry, she was also loud. I was sure that everyone in the hall could hear her.

“I'm here because I care,” I said. “And because I know Sean was important to you.”

“You went to see Billy.” She made it sound like an accusation. “His mother called me again last night. She told me you went. She asked me to go, too.”

“Billy asked me to ask you—”

“I told you, Robyn. I said you had to choose—and you chose Billy.”

“He didn't do it,” I said, keenly aware that no one who was watching me believed in Billy's innocence.

“They found the weapon in his dad's shed. It had his fingerprints on it. What part of this don't you get, Robyn?” She was screaming at me now. The room behind her went silent. “I think you should leave,” she said. Colin went to her and slipped an arm around her.

“Morgan,” he said. “Calm down. It's okay.”

“I want her out of here.” Morgan glared at me as tears ran down her cheeks. “I want her out of here.”

I turned and fled from the hall.

I should have gone back to school, but what for? I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate. So instead I started walking. The tears that I had managed to hold in when I left the church hall started to dribble down my cheeks. I kept seeing Morgan's angry face. She hated me. She didn't want me anywhere near her. Morgan and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. We had always gone to school together, always hung out together, always trusted each other. Until now. Now I was the enemy, and all because I knew what she should have known—that the sweetest, kindest guy in the world would never commit murder. What was the matter with her?

I hadn't had a destination in mind when I'd left the church, but I guess my feet had their own idea because I ended up on my dad's street, looking up at his loft. I stood there for a few moments before deciding that the day had been bad enough. The last thing I wanted to do was run into Nick. I turned to leave—and there he was, coming toward me, his dog Orion's chain leash in one hand, a book in the other. I might have slipped by him unnoticed—he was reading while he walked—if Orion hadn't barked and lunged at me.

“Whoa, boy,” Nick said, holding the leash tightly and looking up. His eyes met mine. At first they were cold and hard, but they softened a little as he studied my face. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You've been crying. I know you, Robyn. You don't cry over nothing. Is it about Billy? Your dad told me what happened.”

“Morgan thinks he did it.”

“And you don't.” It was a statement, not a question. “Did you talk to him?”

I nodded.

“He's scared, Nick. They're keeping him in custody until the trial.”

“It can be hard in there,” Nick said. “Most people they lock up, if they're not messed up when they put them in there, they get messed up pretty fast afterward. If you see Billy again, tell him the best thing is to keep to himself and not to talk to a lot of people about his life or the case. And tell him that if anyone gives him any trouble, he shouldn't just take it. If you don't stand up to the bullies in there, they just make it harder. It's better to fight back, even if you end up getting hurt. If you cause the other guy some pain, he'll think twice about coming at you again.”

And there I was, fighting tears again. Nick could take care of himself. He'd learned how—the hard way. But Billy? Billy wasn't a coward, but despite what had happened outside school, he wasn't a fighter, either. Billy believed that if you treated people right, they would treat you right.

“Crying won't help, Robyn,” Nick said.

He was standing close to me now, and I wished more than anything that he would hold me. But he didn't.

“You helped me a couple of times,” he said. “You stood up for me when nobody else believed me and nobody else cared. You can help Billy, too.”

“This is different, Nick. This is murder.”

He stared into my eyes.

“I know what he feels like, Robyn. He needs to know that there's someone on his side, someone who believes him, no matter how bad it looks. He needs it more than anything, especially if some people think he did it.”

Nick was right. The fact that Morgan was convinced of Billy's guilt made it all the more important that I stand by him—whether Morgan hated me for it or not.