Hawk Moon (10 page)

"If they're so damned sure it's Will, then why haven't they arrested him?" Connors asked.

"That's a good point,"
Lansa
said. "They're being cautious. They want more evidence and a body."

"There's something that stinks about this whole thing," Connors muttered.

"What puzzles me is why they haven't taken you in for more questioning,"
Lansa
said.

"I was questioned again—by Detective Olsen after school. Over at the Wharton Resort."

"What were you doing there?" Marion asked.

Will explained what had happened.

"That was a mistake, Will,"
Lansa
said before Will's mother could say anything. "You just made Olsen more suspicious. You should have told her about Wharton and let her talk to him."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" Connors asked. "You said you stayed late at school."

"I didn't want you worrying or getting mad, Grandpa."

"Well, I'm a little mad right now, boy. I believe that you're a good kid, that you're innocent, but you can't go around doing stuff behind our backs."

"I thought you trusted me." Will's voice sounded shrill.

"Your grandfather is right, Will," Marion said. "You're only going to get yourself in more trouble by pulling stunts like that."

Lansa
raised both hands and patted the air. "Let's go over everything, starting with your last evening with Myra."

For the next half hour Will told his father all that he could recall. He even mentioned the misunderstanding he had with Coach
Boorman
about the last play of the game and Aaron Thomas's role in it.
Lansa
listened closely and asked a few questions.

After Will described the search at Ashcroft,
Lansa
stopped him. "It's strange that your cap and knife were found there, but no body."

"That's a large area," Tom Burke said, speaking up for the first time.

"But you'd think a body would be easier to find than a knife."

"Do you think she might still be alive, Pete?" Connors asked hopefully.

"I don't know. It just seems that if a person is concerned about hiding his involvement in a crime, he doesn't toss his knife into a field that is sure to be searched or let his hat blow away. That is, unless it was someone else's hat and knife and he intentionally left them behind to be discovered."

"But why would the body be hidden?" Marion asked.

"Fear, guilt. Or maybe the killer was concerned that the body might provide leads that would point to him."

"What kind of leads?" Marion asked.

"The killer's hair or his blood,"
Lansa
responded. "So where do you think it would be hidden, if not at Ashcroft?" Burke asked.

Lansa
was quiet for a moment. "A place that seems safe, a place the killer knows."

Will thought about the cave in which he'd seen Myra's body. But the cave was just part of a dream with John Wayne, Myra, and
Masau
. Still, he wanted to talk about his dreams, about
Masau
. If anyone could help him understand what they meant, it was his father. He would wait until they were alone.

E
n route to school the next morning, Will imagined Sheriff Kirkpatrick and several deputies were preparing to arrest him in the parking lot. The entire student body would be gathered eagerly, anticipating his arrival, and then, as he was handcuffed and escorted away, they would all applaud.

But when he pulled into the parking lot, it looked just like any other morning. He walked to his locker, then to class, without incident. But everything seemed unreal. He was just going through the motions of attending classes while he waited. It would be horrible, of course, to get arrested and be charged with murder. But the waiting was almost as bad.

His father had told him he was going to stay in Aspen as long as it took to clear Will's name. Will knew it was a sacrifice for him to make such a commitment. He would have to make arrangements for someone to take over his duties on the reservation. He might even have to take a leave of absence. Besides, the world of Aspen was alien to him. He didn't like the closed-in feeling he got in the mountains and all the up-and-down driving. Not only was his own life being pushed aside, but he also had to face his past. Even though his parents seemed to be getting along, Will knew that it must be a strain for both of them.

Chemistry class began with a test about yesterday's lesson. He hadn't finished his homework, and now he was confusing the valence powers. Fortunately, his grades were good enough so it didn't matter if he did poorly today.

The rest of the morning went smoothly until he stopped at his locker between classes and saw Claude talking with Paige in front of her open locker across the hail. She was moving her hands and shaking her head, as if she didn't agree with what Claude was telling her.

"So what do you think they're talking about?" Taylor stopped at his side.

"Hi, Taylor. I don't know, but they've been avoiding me like the plague."

"They know something about Myra. I'm sure of it."

Just then Paige slammed her locker door. "What makes you think so?" Will asked, watching as Paige walked away, with Claude trailing after her.

"Because Paige is acting, like, real strange. I feel like I don't know her anymore. Oh, great. Here comes my worst nightmare."

Aaron Thomas walked up to them. "Hey, what's going on here? Is it a conspiracy or do you need more than two people for that? I forget."

"Good-bye, Aaron," Taylor said. "Talk to you later, Will."

"I don't get it," Aaron said as Taylor hurried away. "What did I ever do to her?"

"Did you try to get her to take that drug, the Chill, at the party Friday night?"

Aaron was caught off guard, but only for a moment. "No way. I'm naturally high, man. Gotta go. And, hey, stay out of trouble, will
ya
?"

He used to think that Aaron's cockiness was a good trait in a quarterback, that it helped the team spirit. But now Will just figured Aaron was a jerk.

Taylor was the only one of his old friends who still accepted him. He was glad of that, but he wondered if Taylor might know something she wasn't telling him about Myra. After all, she and Myra had worked together last summer at Taylor's folks' ice cream shop, and one of the last things Myra had said to him was that she wanted to tell him something about last summer.

T
hat afternoon, Will went to the computer room again on his study hour. He slipped into a cubicle and typed his entry code. His stomach knotted as he saw he had E-mail. He considered just ignoring the mail, but thought better of it.

He hit the enter key. There only was one letter.

YOU MUST HAVE BEEN REALLY MAD WHEN YOU FOUND OUT YOUR MOTHER'S BOYFRIEND WAS MESSING WITH MYRA WHILE YOU WERE GONE LAST SUMMER. IF YOU HAD ANY GUTS, YOU WOULD'VE KILLED HIM, NOT HER.

YOUR FANZ

"What?" he said aloud and reread the note. Burke. Tom Burke? No, it couldn't be.

"Hey, Will."

He jumped in his seat, spun around. Charlie Baines was standing behind him, peering at the monitor over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Will. I didn't mean to scare you. Did you get another letter from your mysterious correspondent?"

Will tapped the delete button, erasing the letter before Baines read it. The message had struck so deeply that he wasn't ready to share it with anyone. "Yeah. More of the same garbage."

Baines nodded. "I saw you come in and thought you'd like to know what I found out."

"Did you figure out who got my code?" Will asked, trying his best to sound casual.

"I narrowed it down to six people. Well, five really, because I'm one of them and I didn't do it," Charlie said with a grin. "You see, the sysops are the only ones who have access to the student codes besides the school administrators, and I don't think they'd be writing rhymes to you."

"Who're the others?"

Baines held out a piece of paper with five names on it. Will didn't know any of them, but noticed one of them had the initials C. R. Corey
Ridder
. "I've talked to every one of them. They all say they didn't do it, of course, and to tell you the truth, I believe them. None of them has anything to gain from harassing you."

Charlie pointed to the list. "These three had heard about Myra's disappearance, but didn't connect you with her." He moved his finger down the list. "This one knows who you are and actually went to one of the games this year, but he was in San Francisco at a computer convention over the weekend. He didn't get back until Monday afternoon."

"What about the other one—
Ridder
?"

Baines ran a hand through his mussed hair and smiled wryly. "
Ridder
lives in her own world. She's barely in contact with the other sysops, much less anyone else in this school. She's bright, real bright, but she's too focused, if you know what I mean."

Will shook his head. "I don't."

"What I'm saying is that I'm not even sure
Ridder
knows this school
has
a football team. In fact, earlier this fall I had a computer football game up on my screen and she asked me the dumbest questions about it, like what's a first down—that sort of stuff." He laughed. "So I don't think Corey is
Fanz
."

She probably wasn't the C. R. who had written him, either. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Sorry I can't be more helpful right now. But if I come up with anything else, I'll let you know."

H
eading home from school, Will mulled over his latest E-mail from
Fanz
. It was probably just a sick joke, but whoever was playing it knew something about his home life.
Fanz
definitely knew about Burke and that Will had an uneasy relationship with him.

He pulled into the driveway of the house. His grandfather's Land Rover was gone, but his mother's Grand Cherokee was here. That didn't mean much, though, since she usually walked to her shop.

"Anyone here?" he called out as he stepped inside. "Dad?"

No answer. Even though his father had planned to stay in a motel, Will's mother had insisted he move into one of the spare bedrooms. He wondered if his father and grandfather were out together. He had a hard time imagining what they would talk about.

He went downstairs to his room and found the card that Detective Olsen had given him. He decided he would tell her about the
Fanz
E-mail and see if she could sort it out. Maybe it was just a bystander trying to make his life even more difficult than it already was. But then again, it could be someone intricately connected to everything that had happened during the past few days, someone who thought there was no way Will or anyone else would catch him. That's what bothered him.
Fanz
didn't seem the least bit concerned about being detected.

He dialed the number. The dispatcher answered, then transferred the call. Suddenly Will realized he didn't have any of the letters, and he wasn't sure he could retrieve them, either. He should have printed them out. Especially the last one. What if
Fanz
was telling the truth about Burke?

"Detective Bureau," a man answered, then told him Olsen was out of the office. He wanted to take a message, but Will didn't know what to say. He hung up.

He walked upstairs and crossed the living room into the kitchen. He took out a can of Coke from the refrigerator, popped it open, and took a sip.

"Will!"

His throat constricted and the fizzy drink sprayed out of his nose. He coughed, wiped his mouth. "Tom, I didn't know you were here."

Burke stood near the picture window that spanned the wall of the dining area. He was staring out toward the slope on the opposite side of the valley. He turned and strolled toward Will. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his loose slacks. He wore a V-necked sweater, and as always his thick blond hair was perfectly arranged. He must have walked over from his apartment, but Will couldn't recall ever seeing him here when his mother wasn't home.