Enemy Match Chapter 9

Enemy Match 

Chapter 9

Aaargh! I cried out. Marcus turned and ran off. Blood poured from my already sore nose. I was almost sure my nose was broken at this point!

I tried to run after him but the pain was too much. He soon disappeared from view. We’ll catch him later, I muttered as I turned around and headed back to Detmar’s apartment building.

Manheim was waiting in the lobby for me. She saw my nose—and the blood, and came out to meet me. Oh, Justin, she said soothingly. What happened?

Bricker slugged me, I said as blood continued to pour from my nose. Manheim went inside and returned a minute later with some paper towel which I held up to my face.

Thanks, I spluttered and she nodded. I’ll put out a warrant for Mr. Bricker. This was an assault.

She made the call then turned back to me. Detmar isn’t here—at least he’s not answering his buzzer. I was about to call the superintendent to let me in and try his apartment door. Are you OK? You want to go to a clinic to get that looked at.

No, I muttered. I’ll be OK, once this stops bleeding.

Canning pulled up a few minutes later in his own cruiser, and came into the building. He was shocked when he saw my bloody nose. He looked at Manheim. Did this guy get out of hand and you had to slug him? Canning asked.

Manheim just tsked and rolled her eyes.

Marcus Bricker did this a few minutes, just out front, I said, moving the paper towel away from my face. The bleeding had stopped but the blood was crusted on my nose and lips.

Yeah, I got the call, Canning said. Look, I’m sorry Justin, he remarked. This isn’t funny. I’ll go after Bricker. Are you going to see Detmar now, he added.

He’s not home, Manheim reported. At least he’s not answering. I was just about to call the super to let us in and try Detmar’s door.

Good, Canning said. I’ll be back soon.

He left the building and headed back to his cruiser. I followed Manheim into the building as she was successful in getting the superintendent, a Mrs. Bridge, to open the door.

 She met us in the hallway, an older woman with frizzy white hair and thick glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose.

Oh, Officer, she said in a high whiny voice. I don’t think Mr. Detmar is here.

Did you see him leave? Manheim asked.

He didn’t return last night—at all.

Do you know a Marcus Bricker? I asked and she looked at me and my bloodied nose and blinked through her thick specs.

No, she said. He doesn’t live in the building. I know all my tenants. Mr. Detmar is a teacher over at the high school.

Yes, we know, I said ruefully. He’s my gym coach.

She blinked at me again but didn’t say anything further. I followed Manheim down the corridor to apartment 108 where she proceeded to knock. Mrs. Bridge followed us as she didn’t want to miss anything exciting happening with one of her tenants.

Manheim listened at the door but it was quiet. If he’s in there, he’s not making any noise.

I told you he didn’t come back last night, Mrs. Bridge said with a sniff and pushed her glasses farther up her nose.

Very well, Mrs. Bridge, Manheim replied. Will you give us a call if Mr. Detmar returns. I’m sure  you’ll know when that is, she added with a sigh.

Mrs. Bridge nodded then shuffled back down the hall to her own apartment.

OK, we’ll look for Mr. Detmar. Let’s see if Paul got a hold of Mr. Bricker first.

I followed Officer Manheim back to the street. She got into the cruiser and radioed back to headquarters and learned that Bricker had been located and was being brought to the station at that moment.

I’m sure you want to make an assault charge? Manheim remarked as she started up the engine and I nodded. I headed to my SUV and followed her downtown to police headquarters.

I waited in the waiting area out front until they were ready for me. It was quiet as it was Sunday morning barely past 9 am. My mind was spinning with the developments—Jake’s car stolen and Detmar missing. He could have a good explanation for his whereabouts but I still thought he was involved in this mystery somehow.

And why did Marcus slug me? Man, my nose really hurt. It was burning now and the blood was dried and crusted. A little was splattered on my t-shirt. I shook my head in frustration.

Justin, come on back, Manheim called a few minutes later.

I followed her back to the conference room where Bricker was seated at a table with Canning seated across from him.

Bricker has some interesting information, Canning said as I entered the room and glared at Marcus, who averted his eyes. I plopped down next to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Hey Marcus, I said. Why’d you hit me, dude?

Marcus didn’t turn to look at me but remained silent

Not now, Justin, Canning said. He turned to Marcus. Tell us what you told me earlier.

Marcus shook his head. A moment later he did something that totally shocked me. He started sobbing.

It was Detmar, he said with a racking sob. He did it! He told me, I swear.

Do what, son? Canning said.

The poison, he blurted. I’m sorry.

Detmar poisoned Courtney Clubine’s water bottle? I asked incredulously. But why?

Marcus didn’t respond.

I turned to Canning. You have proof of this?

No, Canning said with a sigh. But if he says Detmar did it—then I have to investigate it further. I’m holding him here for the assault, though.

Marcus sobbed again—it was pitiful watching star basketball player crying like a baby. Pathetic was a better word. Look, I’m not callous or anything but this guy was lying.

Detmar didn’t really do it, did he?

Marcus turned to me and winced when he saw my nose. Yeah, he did—it, he sobbed. He hates Daryl Peters, and so do I,  I told you that already. In the parking lot of the hospital. He’s the star player and I’m nothing. I wanted him out of the picture. I was going in to the hospital to hurt him again. But I chickened out when I saw you and your friends.

I figured something like that was going down, I muttered.  I turned back to Canning. I do believe that Marcus hates Daryl Peters and wanted him out of the picture, but someone hacked my Facebook account to issue the challenge to make Peters look like a fool. And someone stole Jake Prestwick’s car and nearly killed my buddy Raj. I don’t think Marcus or Detmar did those things. Or poison the water bottle. I turned back to Marcus. For what it’s worth, I think you’re lying.

Marcus didn’t respond.

We’ll have to keep him here anyway, Canning said. Until we can sort this out. We have to find Detmar and if he didn’t do it, any idea who did?

I just shook my head in frustration. An idea—but no proof.

Do you want to press charges for the assault? Canning asked. I took one look at Marcus sitting there staring off into space—looking pathetic.

No, I said finally. He’s in enough trouble. I tapped him on the shoulder but he didn’t look at me. Dude, I said. Just tell the truth about this stuff. Don’t cover for anyone, it’s not worth it. And—don’t hit me again or I’ll hit back—harder. Got it?

Marcus nodded but continued to stare ahead, blinking tears from his eyes.

I followed Canning out into the corridor and back to his small office at the end of the hall. It was a small room with a metal desk, a small filing cabinet and no windows.

So what’s your theory? Canning asked, sitting down again.

I just shook my head. I think Detmar might be involved, but I have no proof or no reason for why he would poison Peters. I don’t see a motive. But someone hacked into my Facebook account and messed it up and changed my password. They posted a bunch of tasteless pictures from the match with Daryl Peters.

Why would someone do that? Canning asked.

I don’t know, I said with a sigh. Someone wanted me to make Peters look like a fool. Which I did—but I also got the basketball team gunning for me and my friends. Someone framed Jake for hitting Raj off his bike last night. If you guys had arrested him then the team would have gone ballistic.

Jake looked like he was over it, Canning said. You were with him this morning.

Yeah, he came by my house and we had a “discussion”.

How did that go? Canning asked with a grin.

I think we’re on the same page now, I said. He claims he’s innocent and I believe him. Someone stole his car from the school—the auto shop that Detmar has access to. Detmar was also at the match and could have taken the pictures—he wasn’t in any of them.  Not sure if he’s good at computer hacking.

Well, I might be able to help you on that score. Detmar is not a computer whiz but Carlton DeVries the shop teacher, has a degree in computer science and he worked a number of jobs—including a computer company, before getting the position at PSC. We’re looking into it right now. In fact I was on my way to his house to see how the investigation is going. Why don’t you go home and rest—put something on your nose and I’ll let you know how we make out at DeVries place.

Could DeVries be behind this mess? But why? I don’t know him only to see him at school. But as you saw this morning at school, he doesn’t like me very much.

Canning nodded, but didn’t say anything further.

I thanked him and headed back out to the main reception area then out to my SUV. My nose was starting to really hurt, so I headed home. Mom was in the kitchen making breakfast and Raj was there as well as my younger sister, Kimmy.

Whoa! She blurted when she saw my face. What happened?

I plopped down at the table and poured a glass of orange juice. I had an altercation with Marcus Bricker, I remarked.

Oh, Justin, this has to stop, Mom said, coming to put her arm around me.

I’m fine, I blurted then sniffled. I drank my orange juice then reached for a slice of toast and slathered on peanut butter and honey. Mmmm—mm.

Are you—OK?, Raj said a moment later.

I’m fine, I said brightly. I get beat up twice in a week, by two different people, I get blamed for poisoning my enemy and his whole team now hates me and my best friend almost gets killed in a hit and run. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’ve never been better. Why do you ask?

Raj remained silent—even Kimmy didn’t have a smart ass comeback. Look guys, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. And my nose hurts—bad. I’m going back to bed—once I drive Raj home.

I can hang out here, Justin, he said. I don’t mind. You go have a rest and you can take me home later.

I nodded. Thanks, buddy, I said and he grinned.

I headed up to my bedroom and my head just hit the pillow when my cell phone rang. It was unknown caller but I answered it.

A rough voice was on the other end of the line.

“listen up, Macdonald”, the unfamiliar (male) voice rasped, “don’t stick your now broken nose into Prestwick and Peter’s business and don’t try to find me ‘cause if you do try, then next time your or one of your friends will be seriously hurt. Mistry got off lucky this time, but not next time. Got it?”

Who is this? I said, instantly alert now.

But whoever it was hung up.

Enemy Match Chapter 8

Enemy Match

Chapter 8

Ok, so someone stole your car from school, I muttered. Someone wanted to frame you for hitting Raj last night. Someone is definitely playing hardball.

I turned to Raj, did you get a look at who was driving?

No, Raj said with a sigh. I just saw the car as it hit me and I went flying off onto the road. I just assumed it as Jake.

I swear it wasn’t me, Jake remarked.

Then, I am sorry I accused you, Raj said, turning to him.

Jake nodded. I have to go, he said. The police want to talk to me about the car.

Very well, I said. But how did you get here?

I took a taxi, he said. I went to your house first, but you weren’t there, he said to Raj. Then I came here. My uncle owns a taxi so he didn’t charge me. I’m going to call him to come back and get me.

I’ll drive you, I offered. If you give me a few minutes to get dressed.  I wouldn’t mind being there when you talk to the police about your car.

I think I will stay here, Raj said glancing at his bandaged knee. I don’t really want to go home yet, no one is there. And my knee still hurts.

That’s fine, buddy, I said. You rest here and I’ll be back shortly. I turned to Jake. I’ll be back in two minutes.

I raced up to my room and pulled on cargo shorts and another t-shirt. I grabbed a pair of socks off the floor and pulled them on, then went back downstairs. I told Mom where I was going then went to put on my red high tops. Raj spoke up then. I do not know why you are so hard on my friend Justin, here. He is not responsible for your friend Daryl Peters getting poisoned. I think that Daryl is turning you against Justin and us, his friends. I do not know why this is?

Jake bit his lower lip and was hesitating as to what to say.

Its OK, I said pulling on my left shoe. Jake and Daryl are friends and we all know Daryl doesn’t like me and Jake is just being loyal.

Jake nodded. I don’t know why Daryl hates you guys, he said finally. But I think I may have misjudged you. Look, I’m sorry I burst in here like this. I thought you guys were out to get me—get me arrested then I would be thrown off the team—I’m already suspended for a few days thanks to you, he added glaring at me. I still might be let go from the team—depends on Detmar.

We’re not trying to get anyone thrown off the team, I said as I pulled my other high top sneaker on. Someone is behind this vendetta and that someone probably stole your car. Lets go see if we can find it.

We headed out the door to my SUV parked in the driveway. Jake got in the passenger side and put on his seatbelt. As we pulled out of the drive he turned to me. I don’t know why you’re helping me, he said but I appreciate it, Macdonald.

I’m helping you because that’s what I do. This thing between Daryl and me has been going on for years. You’ve only been here the last few months and Daryl has been talking trash about me to you ever since you got here so naturally you believe him. I must seem like a real jackass to you and the team.

Jake was silent so I knew I was right.

We arrived at Port Salser Collegiate about 5 minutes later. A police car and another car were parked outside the tech section at the back of the school. The gym was next to the tech section—the gym where I trounced Daryl Peters.

That must be Mr. DeVries car, Jake said getting out of the SUV. I got out and we headed to the door to the tech wing. Officer Canning was waiting for us. He saw me and smirked.

What are you doing here, Justin? He asked good naturedly as he led us down the hallway to the auto shop.

Helping with your investigation, I said nonchalantly.

Yeah, OK, Canning said.

We found Mr. DeVries talking to another officer in the auto shop. Officer Manheim was a young woman, only a few years older than me. She was also new to the Port Salser force. She had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She nodded to me and smiled as we went through the door. I think she had a little bit of a crush on me. Who could blame the woman, really?

I smiled back, then glanced around the room. There were a couple of car frames and another car on a lift. Jake’s Cavalier wasn’t there. An  empty spot was evident on a second lift.

So my car’s been stolen, how could this happen? Jake said, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

We don’t know, Mr. DeVries said glancing between Jake and me. W-what are you doing here, Justin? He asked. DeVries was an older man short in stature, with longish grey hair and a goatee. He had piercing dark eyes.

I came along to see if I could help.

The police have it under control. You don’t need to be here, he added, glancing at Canning. Does he?

That’s OK, Justin has an understanding with the local police not to interfere. He’s only trying to help, Canning remarked and I nodded. His father is a well known and well respected private investigator so this kind of stuff isn’t new to Justin.

DeVries was unconvinced but refrained from commenting further. He seemed a little nervous—why was that?

We’ve put a report out there, Officer Manheim said. We have our officers combing the city for the car. Hopefully when we find it we can get some fingerprints and see who was driving last night.

Why, what happened last night? DeVries said.

Canning spoke up. Raj Mistry—a student here at PSC—and Justin’s friend, was struck and was knocked from his bike by someone driving Mr. Prestwick’s car last evening. He was not badly hurt, but he could have been. We’re treating this seriously. Whoever stole the car and was driving is in a lot of trouble.

Why would someone steal Jake’s car, then knock someone off their bike? DeVries said with a hint of skepticism.

We don’t know, I said. But if we find out who stole the car, then we might find the answer to that.

Who else has access to the auto shop, besides you, Mr. DeVries? I asked.

DeVries just stared at me a moment. Do I have to answer his questions? He said finally, looking at Canning.

No, you don’t, but now I’m asking the question, Canning said.

DeVries gulped. Only me and Coach Detmar. We have access to this wing as the gym is just next door.

Lyle Detmar?, Canning said, making a note in his book.

Y-yes, DeVries said. He and I have a key to this wing and the auto shop room is not locked.

So, whoever stole the car probably came in here with the key to the wing, unlocked the outside door and took the car outside, then locked everything back up? I asked, eyeing the roll up garage door on the back side of the building.

DeVries was silent and bit his lip and looked at Canning. Yes, he said, finally. That’s what it looks like. But you’re not accusing either me or Lyle of stealing the car? That’s ludicrous!

Not at present, Mr. DeVries Canning remarked then turned to Manheim. We’ll have a talk with Lyle Detmar, he said.

Can I come along? I asked, eyebrows raised.

I don’t see a problem, Manheim said with a grin but Canning grunted. Sure, he said finally.

I turned to Jake. You got a ride home? Or do you want me to drive you home now. I’d like to look for your car.

Why are you helping me? He asked again. After the way I treated you and your friends.

Because I want to find the scumbag who nearly killed Raj, I said evenly.

I can get a ride with my uncle, Jake remarked.

I headed to the door with Manheim. As we left the room I heard DeVries say, I thought Raj wasn’t hurt too badly.

He wasn’t, I said turning back around. But he very nearly was. I have a feeling whoever stole the car did it to frame Jake. The same person or persons is responsible for hacking into my Facebook page and inciting animosity between me and Jake and his friends. Daryl Peters in particular.

You don’t think someone did all this because of you, DeVries said with a wry chuckle. Who do you think you are?

I glanced between Canning and Jake. I could see DeVries wasn’t too impressed with my detective career either. Was I really that arrogant?

Maybe not, I said finally. You’re right, Mr. DeVries. Someone stole Jake’s car because it was a valuable model, and they figured they could get a lot of money for it and in the meantime, they nearly run down a friend of mine—a hit and run by the way.

That’s not what—.

I know what you meant, Mr. DeVries, I said with a sigh.

Come on, Justin, let’s go, Manheim said from the doorway.

I followed her out into the corridor. Don’t let it bother you, what people say, Officer Manheim remarked.

I don’t, I said. But I wasn’t totally convinced I didn’t.

The trip to Detmar’s place was uneventful. I followed Manheim in her cruiser since I didn’t know where Detmar lived—exactly. I knew he lived in the apartments over on Pine St in the west end of town.

As we pulled up in front of the building a familiar person came out the front door.

Marcus Bricker.

He stiffened when he saw the police cruiser and headed up the street in a sudden panic.

I’ll talk to him, I offered as Manheim nodded toward the rapidly departing figure. I took off after Marcus as Officer Manheim approached the apartment building.

Marcus! I called out but the guy ignored me. He broke into a run and I took off after him.

About a block further he suddenly stopped and turned around to face me, he was breathing hard and sweating. What do you want, Macdonald?

I came up to him and stopped in front of him. Before I realized what was happening his fist lashed out and smashed me right on the nose!

Enemy Match Chapter 7

Enemy Match

Chapter 7

I’m calling the police, I muttered. This has gone too far. I grabbed Raj’s bike and wheeled it back to my place while Raj limped along behind. Once at the house I locked his bike up then we went inside.

Mom was still working on her laptop when we went into the kitchen. She gasped when she saw Raj’s knee.

Are you OK, Raj dear? She asked.

Yes, Mrs. M. he said with a wry smile. It doesn’t hurt too much now. It just feels like someone took a cheese grater to it, that’s all.

Mom went off to look for the first aid kit while I called Police Headquarters. The dispatch said they would send someone shortly.

Tell me what happened, I said turning to Raj who took a seat at the table. Mom came in with the first aid kit and went to work cleaning Raj’s knee which was badly scraped.

I was coming along Main Street when I went by a group of people on the sidewalk outside Billy Burger. It was Jake Prestwick and his friends. They yelled something to me that I didn’t understand but I just ignored them. A few minutes later a car came up behind me. I moved over to the right side of the road—as far as I could, but the car came right at me and bumped me. I went flying off and landed on my knee. He grimaced at the memory.

That’s awful, Mom said as she finished bandaging his knee.

Thank you, Mrs. Macdonald, Raj said.

You’re welcome, Raj, she said, standing up and retreating, to put away the kit. She returned to her laptop in the dining room.

The police arrived a few minutes later. The officer, Denton, was Paul Canning’s partner, but was stuck on the night shift for the current week.

Raj explained what had happened, and Officer Denton checked out Raj’s bike.

I’ll have a talk with Mr. Prestwick, Denton remarked. I’ll let you know what I find, Justin, he said. He turned to Raj. Are you OK, son?

I’m OK, now, he remarked. Mrs. Macdonald bandaged up my knee. Thanks again, he called out to the other room.

You’re welcome, Mom responded.

Are you OK to check out my Facebook page? I asked. Is your laptop still OK?

Raj nodded. Yes, he said. My laptop bag is padded so the laptop itself was not damaged when I fell.

Good, I said with a sigh of relief.

And yes, we can check it, my knee is OK now, he remarked with a grin.

Let’s go up to my room, I suggested. I went up the stairs and Raj followed, slowly as his knee hurt to bend it.

I’m really sorry, buddy, I said as we went into my room at the end of the hall. I don’t know why Prestwick would target you. His beef is with me. He’s in a lot of trouble now, though, once Denton finds him. That was a real dumb move on Prestwick’s part. Wouldn’t he know you would recognize him?

Raj just shook his head as he took out his laptop and laid it on my desk. Yes, he said finally, sitting in the chair and turning on the laptop. And don’t worry about my getting hurt. It is not your fault, Justin.

Yeah, well I think it is. It’s because you’re my friend that Jake even targeted you. I feel really bad.

Don’t, Raj said. It’s all good, Justin.

I nodded, but I still felt bad.

Raj booted up and hooked up to my wireless network. He opened Facebook and went to my page.

Whoa! I blurted. That’s crazy.

The pictures were as bad as Raj described. It sure looked like I was taunting the basketball team. I looked like a real jerk and the picture of Daryl laying on the ground was just horrible. No wonder the team hated me—even more than before.

But who would have anything to gain by this?

Can you scroll down so I can have a look at the pictures that were taken at the gym? Maybe we can get a clue as to who took them.

Raj nodded and scrolled through. In one of the pictures Jake was glaring at me as was Courtney Clubine. The picture of me being congratulated by Van, Raj and Melissa was taken from fairly close by. Did I remember anyone with a cell phone or camera? A few of the students had phone and were taking pictures—it all happened so fast. It could even be more than one person—two or three people working together.

Raj scrolled some more. There were about 20 pictures in all. All calculated to make me out to be a jerk—even worse than Peters as it looked like I was gloating over him being ill. And calculated to infuriate the basketball team and Jake Prestwick in particular as he was Daryl’s number 2 guy on the team.

Wait! I said, glancing at the pictures again. Do you see Coach Detmar in any of these? Raj scrolled though again. But Coach Detmar wasn’t in any of them.

Could he be the one behind this vendetta? I didn’t know him that well as he was newly hired at PSC. And he did idolize Peters to a certain degree. Why would he want me to taunt the basketball team—and Jake in particular?

I’m going to talk to Evan tomorrow and see if he can find out who hacked into my account.

Evan McIntyre was another one of my friends and was a whiz at computers and software. He skirted the edges of what was legal and he and I had an “understanding” that he wouldn’t actually do anything illegal in his investigations. But he was good. If anyone could find out who was hacking my account, it would be him.

Thanks, Raj, I said as he logged off and stifled a yawn as he put the laptop in his bag. Say, it’s after midnight and your bike needs some minor adjusting. You want to spend the night in the guest room? Or I can drive you home?

Raj nodded and yawned again. That would be great, Justin, he said with a grin. I will stay. I am too tired to even get to the car. My parents are away visiting relatives in Cambridge, so I would only be alone. Neela is with them.

Neela was Raj’s twin sister. She was a pretty girl who often dated Van.

That’s great, I said, leading him to the room which was down the hall. Mom had gone to bed and the house was quiet. I made up the guest bed and Raj climbed in and was soon asleep.

I headed back to my room, my head spinning with the implication of Detmar somehow being involved. Hopefully Evan could verify it. But it still nagged me. Why would Detmar do something like this?

I was soon asleep. A while later, I wasn’t sure how long, I jerked awake with the sun streaming in the window and a major ruckus downstairs. I glanced at my bedside alarm clock and it read 6:23 am.

Thump thump thump on the front door. Mom appeared at my door blinking sleep from her eyes. Justin, can you come with me to see who this is at the door.

I nodded and climbed out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt, and followed Mom down the hall and down stairs. I could see a shadow through the door of a large figure.

Who is it? I called through the door as the pounding continued.

It’s me, you jerk face! A familiar voice called out. Jake Prestwick.

What do you want. It’s 6 am on Sunday morning. Go home Jake.

Open up, scumbag, he shrieked.

Jake, go home, I said again. I’m not talking to you like this. You’re crazy man. Now get lost before I call the police.

The police? He shrieked again. That’s why I’m in this mess, because your friend ratted me to the police.

I looked at Mom as if to say “is this guy for real”? Let him in Justin, this isn’t going to stop until we talk to him, she said soothingly.

Jake, I’m opening the door, I said through the door.  But you have to calm down first.

There was silence—then, I’m calm, he muttered.

I opened the door and he burst into the room. He was surprised to see Mom there. Oh—Mrs. Macdonald—I’m sorry.

Mom just glared at him. What are you doing here at this time of the morning, Mr. Prestwick, she said sternly?

He turned to me. Where’s your little Indian friend? Is he here, he wasn’t at his house.

Yes, he’s here, but why did you go to his house?

He told the police that I hit him with my car. Why are you guys doing to me? I never hit anyone with my car. What do you think, I’m some kind of psycho?

Come and sit in the living room, Mom suggested and she went off to make some coffee.

I just came from the police station, Jake muttered. I’ve never been so humiliated—my parents are ready to kill me. I don’t understand.

He sat on the couch and I sat on the chair opposite. Raj was knocked off his bike last night on the way here, I remarked. He had just passed you guys downtown and you were making comments toward him.

Jake nodded. Yeah, I remember that.

Then a few minutes later someone hit him and knocked him off his bike, he was nearly killed. He says it was your car. You drive an older model Chevy, 1979 Cavalier. Blue with rust on the hood? Most of us know your car—it’s a real classic, I added sarcastically. Everyone knew Jake’s junker of a car—it was kind of a school joke.

Jake nodded. Yeah, but my car is in the shop—well the shop at school. I lent it to Mr. DeVries and his class to work on. It has a problem with the gear shift, you have to use a screwdriver to jiggle it and only a few of my teammates know about it. I haven’t had my car for about a week as DeVries and the class are trying to fix it.

Wait, I muttered. You weren’t driving your car last night?

Jake shook his head. No, Marcus was with us last night and he was driving.

Marcus Bricker from your basketball team? We saw you guys earlier at Billy Burger—where you threatened us, remember?

Yeah, Jake muttered. Look, that was only talk, I swear.

I nodded.

What’s going on here. Why did Raj rat me out, I know we aren’t friends or anything, but geez, guys this is crazy, saying I tried to kill him. The police let me go, but just barely. I swore I never hit Raj. I told them I wasn’t driving my car last night and they’re investigating that now. They had to call DeVries out of bed this morning to take them to the auto shop at school to check out my car.

Ok, I believe you, Jake, but something really fishy is going on here. Someone is trying to stir things up between you and me and Daryl and the team. And someone is trying to get to you. Throw you off your game. I don’t know who or why—yet.

What do you mean? He asked furrowing his brow. He had calmed down by now and I hoped we could settle this feud right now—at least my feud with him. The one with Peters was another story.

I sighed. Mom came back with a couple of coffees in foam cups. Jake put his on the coffee table and I took a sip of mine, then did the same.

You don’t really think I poisoned Daryl’s—well Courtney’s water bottle, do you? Come on, I don’t like Daryl, that’s not news, but—come on, guys, I wouldn’t poison him. That is a crime last time I checked.

Jake fidgeted in the chair and looked away, then back at me. No, I guess not, not really, but who else—?

I didn’t poison him—and I didn’t issue the challenge to him on Facebook. Someone hacked into my page and put the challenge up there—and those tasteless pictures of what happened at the match.

Jake’s blank expression told me that he hadn’t seen them. I could only imagine how ticked he would be if he had seen them. It would send him off the deep end.

He just shook his head.

What do you think about your coach. Detmar?

What do you mean? Jake said, taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t think he’s involved? Why? That’s nuts.

I don’t know, I said.

Just then Raj appeared in the doorway, wiping sleep from his eyes. He was surprised to see Jake.

Look, Raj, Jake said getting up. It wasn’t me, man. Last night. I didn’t hit you. I swear.

It was your car, Raj said evenly. I know what your car looks like. I am in Mr. DeVries class and we are working on it for our current module. Besides everyone knows your car—it’s a classic.

Jake says he wasn’t driving last night. The car should still be at school. The police are looking into it.

Just then Jake’s cell phone rang. He answered it and listened for a moment, then said, thanks, then hung up.

That was the police, he said grimly. They went to the school with Mr. DeVries. My car is not there. It’s been stolen!