“Death threats?” I repeated. Was he serious?
“I’ve had a few come into my office, and his mother’s gotten one or two at her work. People are really angry about Tevon’s and Payton’s deaths. The media has hyped this whole thing up, and I’ve been worried as hell that soon they’ll get your name and we’ll have to move you out of there. All it takes is one unbalanced idiot who decides to turn himself into a vigilante.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “Do you think that’ll happen?” I asked, sinking down in a chair.
“I hope not,” Donny said. “But for now, it’s important for you to stay as far away from Stubby as possible. The feds are looking for ways to connect you two, and the media is trying to figure out if the feds are serious about bringing charges against this unnamed female accomplice. The minute they figure out you’re a person of interest, Maddie, I don’t even want to think about how bad it could get.”
“So I can’t even go visit him?” I asked, because that’d been a question I’d wanted to ask after telling Donny my idea. Stubby needed me, if only for moral support.
“No way in hell can you go see him,” Donny said. I blinked hard because I started to get a little emotional again, and I didn’t want Donny to know. This whole thing seemed so hopeless.
“Hey,” Donny said, probably hearing my sniffles. “I might have something that could help. I’ve got a private investigator working on something for me, and I don’t have all the facts yet, but I’m working another angle that could push the case in a new direction.”
I shook my head. Working another angle didn’t feel like enough. “Donny, please? Please let me try my idea?”
“No, Maddie,” he said. “Be patient and let me run this my way for now.” When I didn’t say anything, Donny added, “Maddie?”
“I’m here.”
Donny sighed heavily. I knew he was as frustrated as I was. “Kiddo, you need to cooperate with me on this. I need you to tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” I muttered, even though it was a lie.
It was Donny’s turn to be quiet. “Okay. For now, go to school, keep your nose clean and your grades up. The best defense we have is to show what a good kid you are, so keep being that good kid, you hear?”
“Whatever.” I knew I was being a brat, but I couldn’t help it. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and feeling like the life was getting squished right out of me. “Listen, I gotta go,” I said, wanting nothing more than to get off the phone with him.
“Okay,” Donny said. “But remember what I said.”
As I hung up, I wondered how he thought I could ever forget.
TWO DAYS LATER DONNY STOOD next to me in the parking lot of Poplar High, armed with his camera phone and a simmering anger that pulsed through the vein at his temple.
I’d never in my life seen him so angry.
“Show me,” he said, his voice flat and purposely quiet.
I cleared my throat and resisted the urge to put a hand to my eye, which throbbed in rhythm with Donny’s temple. “Over there, at the back entrance,” I said.
Donny took my hand, gripping it with great care. It was a cold day and I was grateful for the warmth of his palm.
We walked silently across the nearly empty parking lot. It was past five o’clock and most after-school athletic practices had already let out. I led him in a straight line, dreading his reaction. When we got to the bike rack he kept silent, but I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.
He took a picture of what had once been my bike and was now a ruined mass of metal, toilet paper, eggs, ketchup, mustard, and shaving cream. On the seat there was a smear of something brown and smelly, and it didn’t take a genius to guess that someone had found some dog shit and made use of it.
After photographing my bike, Donny nodded and we went inside. I led him silently down the empty halls, feeling anxious and jumpy. He seemed to notice, because he squeezed my hand, letting me know I was safe.
We stopped in front of my locker, which was slimed with bits of eggshells and more shaving cream. A foul odor emanated from inside. Donny got out his phone and snapped a few pictures. Then he said, “Now show me where you were attacked.”
I walked him back down the hall we’d just come from, but took a right at the second corridor. At the end was a set of stairs leading down a half flight to the boys’ locker room. I pointed to it. “They grabbed me from behind and took me down there,” I said, my voice wavering.
“Walk me through exactly what happened,” Donny said, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
“Eric and Mario grabbed me from over there,” I said, pointing now to a water fountain at the entrance to the corridor.
“Did you have a class around here?” Donny asked.
I shook my head. “I was coming back from Principal Harris’s office after he met with me, and one of the secretaries was nice enough to let me have a hall pass ’cause it was after the bell rang. I was getting scared to walk the hallways, and you saw what they did to my locker.”
Donny closed his eyes, and I could see he was trying very hard to keep calm. “So, Harris essentially tells you that you’re on your own, and you come back down this hallway and stop for a drink and then what?”
“Mario and Eric must’ve skipped their last class, because I didn’t even know they were behind me until they’d grabbed me. Mario had me in a chokehold, and he covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream. Eric grabbed my legs and they took me to the stairwell.”
Donny swiveled slightly to stare at the steps leading down to the locker room. Turning back to me, he asked, “Were there any teachers around? Any other kids who witnessed it?”
“Yeah. I saw Jacob Guttman walk by. I know he saw what was going on.”
“Did he say or do anything to help you?”
I shook my head. I’d seen with my own eyes while I was kicking and struggling with Mario and Eric how Jacob (5-25-2081) had snickered and kept on walking.