Poisoned (10 page)

“No. Nothing. Thanks.”

She pivoted, sliding in the newly watered dirt, and went down.
Hard.
She felt a crunch in her ankle when she landed. Large blossoms lay under her in the mud, and a mad bumblebee zipped around her head. Jeri swatted at it and missed. The sting on her neck made her howl with pain.

“Ow!” she cried. Her neck suddenly felt as if it were on fire.

Mr. Petrie helped her to her feet and then picked up his book. “You all right?” he asked, handing her the paperback.

“My neck!” Jeri said, touching it tenderly. A bump was already swelling.

“Come with me. I’ve got a first-aid kit in my office.”

The painful burning was worsening, but Jeri wasn’t going inside with Mr. Petrie. Not after the warning she’d read. “I’ll just go back to my dorm,” Jeri said. “It’s not so bad now. Really.”

But Jeri needed to get Rosa first. She turned down a mowed path between the tiny garden plots. A few empty ones were tilled and raked smooth. The others held plants more than half grown. Labeled stakes marked rows of radishes, zinnias, and peas. Name plates were stuck in the ground at each plot.

Glancing at them as she hurried by, Jeri spotted one that said
Brooke.
She wondered who it was. There were lots of Brookes at Landmark. When Jeri poked her head inside the greenhouse, Rosa was reclining on a bag of cedar chips.

“There you are,” Rosa said. “Wanna come with me to

the library?” Rosa stood and brushed off the seat of her pants. “I’m checking out some horsey DVD for Nikki.” She pointed at Jeri’s muddy legs. “What happened to you?”

“I fell, and then I got stung.” She pointed to her neck. “I’m going back to the dorm to get something for it. I’ll meet you back there, okay?”

Ten minutes later when Jeri entered Hampton House, the grandfather clock in the living room was chiming. She hoped Ms. Carter was in her office. Then she heard the house mother’s deep laugh coming from the kitchen, and she headed down the hall.

She was almost to the kitchen when she also heard Emily’s voice, then Brooke’s. Jeri pulled back from the kitchen doorway. She wanted to ask Ms. Carter to check her bee sting — it was really throbbing—but not with Brooke and Emily there.

Jeri waited in the hallway, hoping they’d leave soon. She listened as the girls described some of the science fair displays.

“I’m petrified about tonight,” Emily said. “If only I knew what the judges were going to ask! Then I could practice my answers.”

“You’ll do fine,” Ms. Carter said. “Remember, everyone else will be in the same boat, having to answer off the top of their heads.”

“Yup,” Brooke agreed. “I’m nervous too. At least you know Ms. Todd thinks your project has a great chance of winning.”

“She was just being nice,” Emily protested.

“Whatever!” Brooke said. “She didn’t say that to me!”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight,” Emily said. “For now, I just want to take a break and veg out. We’re allowing ourselves twenty minutes.”

“What are you girls eating?” Ms. Carter said.

“Salsa and chips,” Brooke said.

“I love salsa—but not the spicy stuff,” Emily added. “I got four jars at the store.” She laughed. “I’m eating this whole little jar myself!”

“Mine’s got hot peppers.” It sounded to Jeri like Brooke smacked her lips. “We kept all the food in our room this week though, just in case.”

“For now, girls, that’s probably wise,” Ms. Carter said. Footsteps crossed the tile floor. “I need to get something from my car. I’ll be right back.” The kitchen door opened and closed.

Emily said, “Grab a tray, okay? I’ll start the movie. At least we can watch the beginning.”

Oh no,
Jeri thought.
Please no.
They weren’t going to eat their snack in the kitchen. And now they’d catch her lurking on their way to the TV room. She scanned the area for a place to hide. Where? The hall closet. Or maybe —

Too late.

Emily came around the corner, carrying a jar of salsa and a can of soda, and nearly collided with Jeri before

skidding to a stop. Brooke plowed into Emily’s back and dropped the bag of chips.

“What are you doing?” Brooke demanded when she spotted Jeri. “Let me guess. Spying!”

“I wasn’t spying,” Jeri mumbled. “I wanted to talk to Ms. Carter.”

Of course, she
had
been eavesdropping. She stooped to pick up the spilled chips. Handing them to Brooke, Jeri saw that Brooke’s palm was spotted with a rash again.
I’m glad I don’t have allergies,
she thought.

The kitchen door opened and closed then, and Ms. Carter was back. Jeri went to show her the bee sting. While Ms. Carter cleaned it and applied antibiotic cream, Jeri’s mind began to wander. Something was bothering her — she couldn’t put her finger on it — but it buzzed around her head like that bumblebee.

“Are you all right?” Ms. Carter asked. “You seem a little dazed.” She felt Jeri’s forehead. “Bee stings can be serious. Are you sick to your stomach?”

“I don’t think so …”

Jeri closed her eyes and did an instant replay of the last five minutes. In slow motion she reviewed the conversation she’d overheard, then running into Brooke and Emily, picking up the chips and handing them back to Brooke … What was wrong? What had set her mind to churning?

“I think I might lie down for a while,” Jeri finally said.

She headed upstairs, thoughts whirling in confusion. Maybe a nap would help. First she walked by Brooke and Emily’s room. When she walked by the partially opened door, a pungent odor wafted out. Jeri blinked. What was that strong smell?

Glancing around the room, she couldn’t see anything odd enough to account for the odor. Then she noticed the wastebasket. The smell seemed to be drifting up from there. She inspected the contents and found a spoon with bits of red sauce on it. She sniffed again.
Salsa.

But that didn’t account for the whole smell.

Jeri turned slowly, sniffing, and then bent down, reaching under the edge of the nearest bed. She pulled out a wad of paper towels, unwrapped them, and saw what looked like a garlic press. Her mom used one when she cooked homemade spaghetti sauce. She picked it up and smelled it. The white bits left in the press sure didn’t smell like garlic.

What could it be? And why did the plastic spoon have salsa on it? Had something been added to the salsa? It

wasn’t garlic, but something that could be crushed in the garlic press.

Then, unbidden, an image of Brooke’s tight jeans and the lump in her pocket flashed through Jeri’s mind. Downstairs just now, when she’d handed Brooke the spilled chips, there was no lump in her front pocket. She must have done something with —

“Oh no!”

Jeri dashed out of the room and down the hall and, hanging onto the banister, flew down the stairs. She bumped into Ms. Carter in the entryway, but there was no time to explain.

In the TV room, the movie had begun. Emily and Brooke were sprawled on the lumpy couch, feet up on the coffee table. A tray of food was between them. Emily had opened her jar of salsa and dipped her tortilla chip full. She had her mouth open wide.

Jeri flung herself into the room, leaped over Brooke’s legs, and knocked the chip from Emily’s hand. “Don’t eat that!” she cried.

Emily screamed. Brooke yelled and hit Jeri’s back. Jeri cracked one shin so hard on the edge of the coffee table that it took her breath away. She bounced and rolled onto the floor, landing on Emily’s feet and whacking her elbow on the floor.

“What are you
doing?”
Brooke yelled, standing over her.

Jeri tried to take deep breaths, willing the pain to subside. Her arm and leg were bent awkwardly under her.

She heard steps running down the hall, and several girls pounding down the stairs called, “What’s going on?”

Jeri rolled over, rubbing her elbow and arm. Then she grabbed the jars of salsa before Brooke could. “Here,” she said breathlessly, handing them to Ms. Carter. “If you have these tested, I think you’ll see that Brooke’s jar of salsa is fine—but Emily’s has been poisoned.”

Emily gasped.

“You’re crazy,” Brooke said. “You’re trying to frame
me
now!”

Ms. Carter helped Jeri up to a chair, then—setting the salsa on the table—said, “I think you’d better explain.” She felt Jeri’s forehead again.

“No, I’m
not
running a fever. I know what I’m saying.” She rubbed her shin. “When you test that salsa, I think you’ll find more than onions or garlic in it. I think you’ll find a crushed daffodil bulb.”

The color drained slowly from Brooke’s face. “You’re crazy!” she said, turning to the doorway.

“Stay put, please.” Ms. Carter’s voice had a steely edge. “Let’s get to the bottom of this. Jeri, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Check Brooke’s palms, Ms. Carter.”

Brooke frowned at her hands. “It’s a rash. You already know I have allergies.”

“I know you
told
me Monday night that you had allergies. That’s when you heard me go into the bathroom and rushed in after me, pretending to be sick.”

“I wasn’t pretending to be sick!”

“Well, you made a lot of gagging noises anyway, to throw suspicion off yourself. You sure didn’t want me to get Ms. Carter that night.”

“I told you why!” Brooke spluttered.

“You told me lots of things,” Jeri said. “Today at the greenhouse I saw a garden plot with your name by it. It reminded me that you use daffodils in your science display.”

“So?”

“So if we look in your room, would you have any daffodil bulbs up there?”

“No.”

Emily’s voice was soft—and confused. “But you got some today.”

Brooke turned on her in fury. “So what! I used them for my science fair project. You know that.”

Ms. Carter stepped forward then. “Jeri, I’m not following you. What does Brooke’s science fair project have to do with this salsa?”

“Nothing,” Jeri said, “except I saw Brooke earlier. I thought she was on the way home from setting up at the gym, but she was actually coming back from the greenhouse. She had a lump in her pants pocket then, like a rock.” She pointed at Brooke’s front pocket. “It’s not there now. I’m betting that the ‘rock’ was a daffodil bulb from the greenhouse.”

Ms. Carter shook her head slowly. “I still don’t understand.”

Jeri could see that the house mother thought she’d lost her senses. “I just found a crushed daffodil bulb under Brooke’s bed. In their garbage can I found a spoon with salsa and bits of the crushed bulb on it. Daffodil bulbs are poisonous,” she explained. “People can get accidentally poisoned when they think a daffodil bulb is a small onion or piece of garlic.” She held up her hand. “And when you handle daffodil bulbs without gloves, you get a rash—just like the rash on Brooke’s hands.”

Emily shrank back from her roommate, pushing herself into the corner of the couch. “Is this true? Did you try to poison me?” Her pale face lost even more of its color. “But why? What did I ever do to you?”

It felt to Jeri as if everyone had frozen. Someone had even paused the movie, capturing a swimmer in the middle of a high dive.

Emily’s anguished questions hung in the air. When Brooke just stared at her lap, Jeri said, “I think I can guess. Ms. Todd believes you’ll win the science fair with your brain functions display. Brooke tried at Abby’s party to make you too sick to work on your project. When that didn’t work, she added something during the week to your trail mix. But you recovered again and got back to work. Today’s salsa would have made you too sick to answer questions for the judges tonight. That would finally give Brooke a chance to win.”

Emily frowned. “But Brooke doesn’t care about winning. Just ask her.”

“That’s right,” Brooke said. “I’ve already got an A in science, and I don’t need a scholarship.”

Jeri glanced at Ms. Carter, who was watching her as if she’d gone crazy.
Have I?
Jeri wondered. Was her conclusion all wrong? No, it couldn’t be! But if Brooke didn’t need the grade or the scholarship, why
would
she do it?

“Well?” Ms. Carter finally said.

Jeri shook her head, as if clearing away mental cobwebs. Something didn’t add up, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
God, what is it?

She studied Brooke closely. Her expression was grim, and her arms were folded tightly across her chest. Those tiny tops and tight jeans … Was she wearing them because they were fashionable … or because she’d outgrown them and couldn’t afford new clothes?

“Brooke, are you sure you don’t need the scholarship?” Jeri asked. “Do you really have plenty of money? Then why were you borrowing money from Nikki? I heard her mention loans you didn’t pay back.” Jeri turned to Ms. Carter. “If you call Brooke’s parents or ask the headmistress, you might discover their real money situation.”

Ms. Carter studied Brooke thoughtfully, a frown line deepening between her eyes. “Yes, I suppose I could do that.” Brooke took a big breath. “You don’t need to.” Her shoulders slumped, and her breathing was ragged. “Pretty much everything Jeri said is true.”

“You
did
poison me?” Emily’s voice rose shrilly. “Why? I thought you were my friend!”

“I am!” Brooke’s voice caught in her throat. She glanced at her roommate, then away quickly. “I never put enough in your food to really hurt you.”

Horror was etched onto Emily’s face. “I ended up in the hospital!”

“I know, and I’m really sorry! I don’t know how that happened. I must’ve guessed wrong on the amounts.” Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I just needed you to miss the science fair.” She leaned her elbows on her knees and stared at the floor. Tears ran in thin lines down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. “Jeri’s right. My parents’ florist shop is almost bankrupt. If I don’t get the scholarship for next year, I can’t come back.”

You won’t come back now anyway,
Jeri thought.
You’ll be expelled.

Jeri glanced at the girls now huddled silently in the hall. Nikki stood at the back. “Nikki’s bigger than Emily,” Jeri said, “but she got the sickest at Abby’s birthday supper. Why?”