Change of Heart Read online




  NORAH McCLINTOCK

  First U.S. edition published in 2013 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  Text copyright © 2009 by Norah McClintock. All rights reserved.

  Published by arrangement with Scholastic Canada Ltd.

  All U.S. rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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  The image in this book is used with the permission of: Front cover: © Jonathan Daniel/Getty Images.

  Main body text set in Janson Text Lt Std 11.5/15.

  Typeface provided by Linotype AG.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  McClintock, Norah.

  Change of heart / Norah McClintock. — 1st U.S. ed.

  p. cm. — (Robyn Hunter mysteries ; #7)

  ISBN 978–0–7613–8317–8 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)

  [1. Mystery and detective stories. 2. Murder—Fiction. 3. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M478414184Ch 2013

  [Fic]—dc232012017535

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1 – BP – 12/31/12

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-0963-7 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-3048-8 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-3047-1 (mobi)

  TO ALL GOOD FRIENDS

  I

  wish I could say that I was surprised when I stepped out of school and directly into a full-blown fight, but I wasn’t, even though this particular fight involved my best friend Billy Royal, who is normally the sweetest, gentlest person in the world. He literally wouldn’t hurt a fly. Whenever anyone gives him a hard time, he walks away—not because he’s afraid, but because he believes that violence doesn’t solve anything. But there he was.

  For someone who looks like a beanpole, Billy is in pretty good shape. He runs regularly. He kickboxes a couple of times a week—for the exercise. He plays pickup hockey whenever he can. He could probably hold his own against a lot of guys if he had to. Unfortunately, the person he was locked in combat with was Sean Sloane. I had no idea who had started it, but I had a pretty good idea what it was about.

  Sean was all muscle. He was tall like Billy, toned—I never saw a guy look better in jeans than Sean Sloane—and extremely physical. He was a hockey star, captain of one of the best teams in the area. In the regional league, anyway. Major junior was the highest level of play, Morgan explained, but playing regional league kept Sean eligible to compete on college teams in the U.S.

  Oh yeah: two weeks ago Sean had started going out with my other best friend, Morgan Turner, who up until then had been going out with Billy. It’s complicated.

  I had stepped outside just in time to see Billy shove Sean—hard. His palms slammed into Sean’s chest and sent Sean reeling backwards. Billy went after him again, his hands curled into fists. I had never seen Billy’s face so twisted with rage.

  That’s when Morgan shouted, “Stop it, Billy,” which surprised me. She was looking at Billy as if he were the one who had started the fight. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from Sean, but Billy shook her off. He and Sean circled each other like prizefighters.

  “Billy!” Morgan shouted.

  But Billy wasn’t listening. I don’t think he was aware of anyone or anything except Sean.

  A crowd gathered. I recognized Tamara Sanders, who had been Sean’s girlfriend until he started going out with Morgan. She was watching the goings-on with obvious amusement. I don’t know if she thought Billy could actually win, but I bet she would have shaken his hand if he had. Half a dozen guys had formed a loose semicircle behind Sean—all jocks like him.

  “Jon, do something,” Morgan said to one of them.

  Jon Czerny was on the same hockey team as Sean. He was taller and beefier than Sean and looked like the kind of guy who could do a lot of damage if he wanted to. He could also probably break up a fight—if he wanted to. But he didn’t make a move to intervene. Neither did any of the other jocks. Like Tamara, they seemed to be enjoying the fight.

  Morgan looked around wildly. She spotted someone out on the football field.

  “Colin!” she called. “Colin!”

  Colin Sloane was Sean’s brother. When Morgan called him, his head bobbed up, his face brightened, and he immediately started to jog over to where she was standing. Because of the crowd that had gathered around Sean and Billy, I don’t think he realized what was happening.

  Standing farther back from the fray was Dennis Hanson. Dennis was, as Billy diplomatically put it, different. He was brilliant at math and had a reputation as a chess master. But he rarely made eye contact with anyone and was widely regarded as, well, weird. I heard someone say he had Asperger’s Syndrome, but I don’t know if that was true or not. Even if it was, it didn’t stop a lot of kids from making fun of him. Most people avoided him entirely. But not Billy. He accepted Dennis the way he was, quirks and all.

  Now Dennis’s eyes were riveted on Billy. It was the first time I’d seen him look directly at another human being. I couldn’t tell, though, whether he was afraid for Billy or thrilled that Billy was taking on someone like Sean.

  Next to Dennis—but not too close, no one ever got too close to Dennis—was Aaron Arthurs, rumored to be one of the other smartest kids in school. He was a real techhead. I had been in the same computer class as Aaron last year. He knew far more than the teacher, who never hesitated to call on him for help and who told us all, repeatedly, “Mark my words, people, Aaron is going to be the next Steve Jobs.” In other words, he was a total geek. It didn’t help that his mom was one of the school secretaries—and that she was super strict. If I’d been Aaron, I would have transferred.

  Worse, Aaron was often found in the school office after hours, helping his mom tidy up before they went home together, and the principal had called him in more than once to troubleshoot computer problems. Aaron was watching the fight with the same rapt expression as Dennis. Unlike Dennis, he was smiling. He was probably hoping to see Sean take a public beating.

  But that’s not what happened.

  Instead, Sean landed a punch—it looked like a good one—right on Billy’s nose. Billy’s head snapped back. Blood gushed into his mouth and down his chin. He stared in astonishment at Sean, and I thought, That’s it, fight’s over. Sean must have thought so, too, because he smiled at Morgan. Billy pivoted around. I think he wanted to see Morgan’s reaction. As soon as his back was turned, Sean rushed him.

  “Billy, look out!” I shouted.

  That’s when Morgan noticed me standing there.

  Billy spun back to face Sean. One of his long legs snapped out in a karate kick. It connected with Sean in what for guys is a very sensitive spot. Sean sank to his knees groaning just as his brother Colin broke through the crowd.

  “Sean.” Colin rushed to his brother’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Mr. Dormer, one of the vice principals, pushed through the crowd and frowned in disapproval. “Sloane, are you hurt?”

  “I’ll be okay,” Sean said through clenched teeth. His face was red. I would have bet anything that his embarrassment rivaled whatever pain he was feeling. While Colin helped him to his feet, Sean scowled at the crowd around him, daring anyone to snicker. Someone did: Dennis Hanson.

  “What are you laughing at, freak?” Sean snarled. “You wan
t to see what this feels like?”

  “Leave him alone,” Billy said, his voice muffled by the sleeve of his jacket, which he had pressed against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. “He didn’t mean anything.” He glanced at Dennis, who was staring resolutely at the ground.

  “What about you, Royal?” Mr. Dormer said to Billy. He pulled Billy’s hand away from his nose. “Is it broken?”

  “I don’t know,” Billy said.

  Mr. Dormer did a slow scan of spectators’ faces and picked Aaron out of the crowd. “Take Royal inside,” he said. “Have your mother call his parents. You’ll need to have someone look at that nose, Royal.”

  Billy nodded miserably.

  “You go, too, Sloane,” Mr. Dormer said. “Report to the office. Wait for me there.”

  Sean limped to the door, supported by Colin. Billy—always a gentleman, even when he was bleeding—opened it for them. Maybe he was sorry for hurting Sean. But Sean didn’t seem remotely sorry for hurting Billy, and Colin glowered at him as he muscled his way into the school. If Mr. Dormer hadn’t been standing right there, he probably would have taken a swing at Billy.

  Mr. Dormer looked around at the crowd.

  “Who started this?” he said.

  Morgan stepped forward.

  “Billy did.”

  Billy turned and looked mournfully at her before stepping inside.

  “Billy attacked Sean,” Morgan said.

  Attacked? Billy? Mr. Dormer must have been thinking the same thing that I was—Impossible!

  “Billy Royal attacked Sean Sloane?” he said. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he’s jealous,” Morgan said. “He doesn’t like that I’m going out with Sean.”

  “I see,” Mr. Dormer said. “And you saw what happened?”

  “Yes. I was walking with Sean. All of a sudden Billy grabbed him. When Sean tried to walk away, Billy shoved him.”

  Mr. Dormer blinked and shook his head as if he had woken up to find himself in a parallel universe. In the world he normally inhabited, people like Billy Royal did not instigate fights with people like Sean Sloane.

  “Even after Billy shoved him, Sean still tried to walk away,” Morgan said. “That’s when Billy attacked him.”

  “But Billy’s the one who’s bleeding,” I pointed out.

  Mr. Dormer gave me a sour look. The message was clear: he was talking to Morgan, not to me.

  “Sean was just defending himself,” Morgan said.

  Mr. Dormer shook his head again. He thanked Morgan and turned to go back inside, presumably to his office, presumably to sort things out and punish whoever was to blame, which, if he accepted Morgan’s version of the events, was going to be Billy.

  “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?” I said after he had gone. “I mean, when was the last time Billy attacked anyone?”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Morgan said.

  “No. But this is Billy we’re talking about.”

  “Billy’s lucky that all Sean did was defend himself,” Morgan said. “If Sean had wanted to, he could have really hurt Billy. But he didn’t. He’s not like that.” I thought about Sean jumping Billy from behind. That had nothing to do with self-defense. It was dirty fighting, plain and simple.

  By the end of the school day, everyone knew that Billy had been given a three-day suspension for “attacking” Sean.

  “Poor Billy,” I said when I met Morgan at her locker after school.

  Morgan slammed her locker door.

  “Why do you always take his side?” she said.

  “I’m trying not to take sides. You and Billy are my friends.”

  “You’re such a hypocrite, Robyn.”

  “What?”

  “I know what you think,” she said. “You think I shouldn’t have broken up with Billy. But look at you. You broke up with Ben.”

  It was true. I had broken up with Ben Logan. I’d told myself that it wasn’t right to keep going out with him when it was obvious that he cared for me a lot more than I cared for him. And when I was spending most of my time wishing that he was someone else: Nick D’Angelo, who I had been going out with before I met Ben and ... well, it was complicated.

  Ben didn’t take the breakup well. But he and I didn’t go to the same school, so he didn’t have to see me every day. I think that made it easier for him than breaking up with Morgan was for Billy.

  “If you don’t want to go out with Billy anymore, that’s your business,” I said. “But he’s still my friend. And he’s devastated.” He really was. Instead of being his usual easygoing and cheery self, he had become sullen and withdrawn. Whenever he saw me with Morgan, he veered off in another direction. He hadn’t come right out and said so—after all, he’s a guy—but I was pretty sure that he thought I supported Morgan’s decision to dump him. That I was on her side. But I wasn’t. “I feel sorry for him, that’s all. I still don’t understand what happened between you two. What did Billy do that was so terrible?”

  “There you go again, defending him.”

  “I asked a question. Since when does that constitute defending someone?”

  “It’s the way you asked, like you can’t believe that Billy would ever do anything terrible. Like he’s perfect and I’m the one who always messes up.”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “It’s chemistry, Robyn. Sean and I have chemistry.”

  “I thought you had chemistry with Billy.” That’s what she had told me dozens, maybe hundreds, of times.

  “Well, I have better chemistry with Sean. And don’t give me that look again. This is not my fault. It just happened.”

  “You make it sound like a car accident,” I said. Was that how it worked: one minute you were going merrily on your way and the next, out of the blue, your heart collided with someone else’s and there was nothing you could do about it? But that wasn’t what had happened between Morgan and Billy. That had been a slow buildup over years. Maybe that was her point. Maybe that was why she and Billy hadn’t lasted.

  Or was it something else?

  “Are you saying you never really loved Billy?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “At least, I don’t think that’s what I’m saying. But come on, Robyn. You didn’t think Billy and I were going to be together forever, did you?”

  To be honest, I had never thought about it. But now that she mentioned it, I suppose that was exactly the picture I’d had in my mind. They’d been such a perfect couple. Billy brought out the best in Morgan, and Morgan made Billy smile almost all the time.

  “I hate to say it, Robyn, but in a way I’m glad Billy attacked Sean ...”

  “What?”

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “I didn’t tell you this because I know how you feel about Billy,” she said slowly. “But he’s been acting really weird. He calls my phone fifteen or twenty times a day. He follows me around, even when I’m with Sean—especially when I’m with Sean. He’s practically stalking me.”

  “Billy?” I said. “Billy would never—”

  “You’re doing it again. I’m not lying, Robyn. And I’m not exaggerating. He’s driving me crazy. Now that he’s suspended, maybe he’ll stop harassing me. Maybe he’ll give up and get over it.”

  I went to Billy’s house after school. I rang the doorbell a dozen times, but there was no answer. I wondered if his mom had taken him to the hospital. I wondered if his nose was broken after all. I dug out my cell phone and ended up in his voice mail. Then I headed for my father’s place.

  My parents are divorced. I mostly live with my mother, but I spend every other weekend at my father’s. Sometimes when my mom, who is a lawyer, is working on a big case and puts in long nights at her office, I stay at my dad’s place during the week, too. Most of the time he’s glad to have me.

  My first clue that this was not one of those times: when my dad heard me come through his front door, he popped his head out of his office (one of the few truly closed-in rooms in his open
-concept loft) and looked not-so-pleasantly surprised to see me.

  “Robbie,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  No kidding. He seemed flustered, and my father isn’t someone who is easily flustered.

  “You want me to leave, Dad?”

  My second clue that I wasn’t being welcomed with open arms: my dad didn’t immediately say, No, of course not. He seemed to be thinking it over.

  “What’s the matter?” I said.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. That’s when I realized that there was someone else in his office with him. My first thought was, It’s a woman. After three years of being separated and one year of being divorced, my mom had accepted a marriage proposal from a man named Ted Gold. Maybe my dad had finally taken the hint. Maybe he was moving on.

  But, no, that wasn’t it.

  “Nick is here,” he said.

  Nick stepped into the doorway beside my dad, and my heart slammed to a stop. I hadn’t seen Nick in a while. He used to rent an apartment on the second floor of the building my dad owns. My dad occupies the entire third floor. A gourmet restaurant leases the ground floor. But Nick had abandoned his apartment a few months ago. He had taken off without any warning. He had reappeared only a few weeks ago, also without warning. The whole time he was gone, I’d waited to hear from him. I had also started going out with Ben. Now Ben was history, but Nick didn’t know that yet. Up until this very minute I’d had no idea where he was. And the last time I’d seen him, he’d told me that it was probably best if we both moved on.

  And yet here he was, standing beside my father. Nick’s jet-black hair was longish and scruffy. A jagged scar cut across his cheek, from the bridge of his nose to his right ear. He was dressed, as usual, head to toe in black. When he looked at me with his amethyst-colored eyes, he took my breath away. He always did. Had he come looking for me?

  “Nick,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  I didn’t mean it the way Nick obviously took it. His whole body stiffened. He turned to my father. “I’d better get to work. It’ll take a little time, okay, Mac?”