Read Seconds Away for Free Online

it out of his hands. This was our table in the farthest corner of the “bleachers”—Ema, Spoon, and yours truly. Spoon put down his tray and pushed up his glasses. His eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying.
    “So,” Spoon said, “do we take on the case?”
    Ema frowned. “What are you talking about?”
    “Rachel was shot.”
    “We know,” Ema said.
    He looked at her, then at me, then at her again. “So it’s agreed then?”
    Ema again asked, “What are you talking about?”
    “Rachel. She’s part of our group.”
    “No, Spoon,” Ema said, pointing toward the table of varsity jackets and cheerleader sweaters. “She’s part of that group.”
    Spoon shook his head. “You know better.”
    That silenced Ema.
    “We have to act,” Spoon said.
    “Act how?” I asked.
    “What do you mean how?” He stuck out his chest. “We need to find out who shot her. This is too important. We cannot rest until we find out who committed this terrible deed. We should make a pact—we do not quit until we know the truth and Rachel is safe.”
    Ema sighed. “Ready to rescue the pretty girl, I see.”
    Spoon wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a hero to all the babes.” He turned to me. “What do you say, Mickey?”
    “We don’t even know where she is,” I said.
    Spoon smiled. “I do.”
    That got our attention. Ema and I leaned forward. Spoon just smiled. We waited. Spoon smiled some more.
    Finally I said, “Talk, Spoon.”
    “Right, sorry. My father. You know he’s the head custodian at this school, right?”
    “Of course we know,” Ema snapped. “Get on with it.”
    “Ah,” Spoon said, raising his namesake in the air, “but do you know about the custodial network?”
    “The what?”
    “The custodial network. It’s probably too intricate to explain in detail, so let me give you the basics: Janitors talk to one another. They are the eyes and ears of any establishment. See?”
    Spoon stopped and waited for a reply.
    I said, “No.”
    Spoon sighed. “Another janitor in the custodial network is friendly with my father. This particular janitor—his name is Mr. Tansmore—works at Saint Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, New Jersey. He told my dad that’s where Rachel is currently residing.”
    “Did he say how bad her injuries were?” I asked.
    “Negative. But he did say she had a gunshot wound. Here’s what I suggest: We go to the hospital after school and visit her.”
    I looked back at Troy Taylor. He was studiously ignoring me, but his best buddy, Buck, was giving me the stink-eye. Buck pounded his fist into his palm and mouthed the words
Dead man
in my direction.
    I reacted by yawning back at him, patting my mouth in full pantomime.
    “Tired?” Spoon asked.
    “No. That was directed at Buck.”
    Spoon frowned. “Buck’s tired?”
    Yep, Spoon could be maddening.
    “Just forget it, Spoon.”
    “Forgotten,” Spoon said. Then he leaned in and said, “Well?”
    “Well what?” Ema replied, clearly irritated.
    “Do we go to the hospital after school? Do we try to figure out what happened to our fallen comrade?”
    “Are you out of your mind?” Ema said. “You don’t just waltz into a hospital and visit a shooting victim. You don’t even know if she’s allowed visitors or wants visitors—and if she did, she’d probably want her close friends, not us. On top of that, the police, including Troy’s father, are working on the case. Real, live law enforcement officers.”
    Spoon wiggled his eyebrows again. “The police weren’t the ones who brought down Buddy Ray at the Plan B nightclub. We were.”
    “And we were almost killed,” Ema said.
    “Fear not, fair maiden.” Spoon slid his chair closer to her. “I saved you once. I can do it again.”
    “Don’t make me punch you,” Ema said.
    I said nothing.
    Ema looked at me. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “Suppose we can help.”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “We may be in danger