said Frazier cheerfully, closing his notebook. "We won't take up any more of your time."
They don't suspect me, Jill thought with relief.
"If you think of anything that might help our investigation," Detective Monroe added, "please get in touch." He handed Jill a card with his number on it, and then both men lumbered out the door. They were about to start down the front steps when Detective Frazier suddenly turned. "By the way," he said, and this time his face was not friendly, "if we need you, we know where you are."
Chapter 22
Jill peered through the living room curtain until the officers had driven away, then, feeling shaken, went to her room and got ready for bed. She felt sad, guilty, and on the verge of tears.
What I did was wrong, she told herself. Lying to the police is a crime.
But what else could I have done? she wondered. If she'd told about Max and Nick, they would have been prime suspects. And she was sure they hadn't set the fire. Even worse, the whole thing about the fire game would have come out, including the computer notes, and Andrea was already in enough trouble.
Thinking about Andrea made her feel even worse. Had her fall really been an accident? If not, what had happened, and who was responsible?
She punched in the hospital number and asked for patient information.
"Andrea Hubbard," she said. "She was admitted this morning. I just wondered how she was doing."
There was silence while the woman on the other end looked through her records. "There's no change," she reported at last.
Jill thanked her and hung up. No change. That meant that Andrea was still unconscious. She remembered how pale and broken Andrea had looked that morning. What if she never woke up?
Suddenly Jill realized that she couldn't go on lying. That none of them could. The police might not suspect her now, but they knew that she had been on Fear Street that night. Someone might have seen Nick's father's car as well.
There was only one answer. They--all of them--had to go to the police and tell what they knew. With a great feeling of relief, Jill punched in Diane's number.
Diane, sympathetic as ever, listened to Jill seriously. "You say the police didn't suspect you?" she asked.
"No," said Jill. "But it doesn't matter. I just realized this whole thing has gone too far. We have to tell what we know. I want you to help me convince the guys."
"That's not going to be easy," Diane said doubtfully. "I mean, Nick and Max were there when the fire started."
"But they said they didn't do it and I believe them," said Jill. "The one who's going to be hard to convince is Gabe. He told me I should just forget about the whole thing. That he doesn't think there'll be any more fires."
"When did he tell you that?" said Diane.
"After the meeting," said Jill. "He picked me up while I was walking home."
"That's a surprise," said Diane. "By the end of the meeting you two weren't even speaking."
"I know," said Jill. "No offense, since he's your friend, but Gabe is strange. First he was talking really seriously about the fire, and about five minutes later he completely cheered up and asked me out."
"Really?" said Diane. "You're not going, are you?"
"I said I would," said Jill. "But after the police came over, I don't know. I don't know if I want to go out with anyone until this whole thing is resolved."
"I think you're right," said Diane. "Gabe's always been terribly moody, and--"
"That's what I was thinking," Jill said.
"I have an idea," said Diane. "Why not just forget about Gabe and all the others? You and I can go to my parents' cabin this weekend. Just get away from everything."
"That sounds great," said Jill. "But what about the police?"
"I agree we should tell them what we know," said Diane. "But, Jill, you're too upset to think straight now. If we go to the cabin, we'll have time to figure out what to tell them. Besides, maybe by the time we get back, they'll have found the person responsible and we won't have to say
They don't suspect me, Jill thought with relief.
"If you think of anything that might help our investigation," Detective Monroe added, "please get in touch." He handed Jill a card with his number on it, and then both men lumbered out the door. They were about to start down the front steps when Detective Frazier suddenly turned. "By the way," he said, and this time his face was not friendly, "if we need you, we know where you are."
Chapter 22
Jill peered through the living room curtain until the officers had driven away, then, feeling shaken, went to her room and got ready for bed. She felt sad, guilty, and on the verge of tears.
What I did was wrong, she told herself. Lying to the police is a crime.
But what else could I have done? she wondered. If she'd told about Max and Nick, they would have been prime suspects. And she was sure they hadn't set the fire. Even worse, the whole thing about the fire game would have come out, including the computer notes, and Andrea was already in enough trouble.
Thinking about Andrea made her feel even worse. Had her fall really been an accident? If not, what had happened, and who was responsible?
She punched in the hospital number and asked for patient information.
"Andrea Hubbard," she said. "She was admitted this morning. I just wondered how she was doing."
There was silence while the woman on the other end looked through her records. "There's no change," she reported at last.
Jill thanked her and hung up. No change. That meant that Andrea was still unconscious. She remembered how pale and broken Andrea had looked that morning. What if she never woke up?
Suddenly Jill realized that she couldn't go on lying. That none of them could. The police might not suspect her now, but they knew that she had been on Fear Street that night. Someone might have seen Nick's father's car as well.
There was only one answer. They--all of them--had to go to the police and tell what they knew. With a great feeling of relief, Jill punched in Diane's number.
Diane, sympathetic as ever, listened to Jill seriously. "You say the police didn't suspect you?" she asked.
"No," said Jill. "But it doesn't matter. I just realized this whole thing has gone too far. We have to tell what we know. I want you to help me convince the guys."
"That's not going to be easy," Diane said doubtfully. "I mean, Nick and Max were there when the fire started."
"But they said they didn't do it and I believe them," said Jill. "The one who's going to be hard to convince is Gabe. He told me I should just forget about the whole thing. That he doesn't think there'll be any more fires."
"When did he tell you that?" said Diane.
"After the meeting," said Jill. "He picked me up while I was walking home."
"That's a surprise," said Diane. "By the end of the meeting you two weren't even speaking."
"I know," said Jill. "No offense, since he's your friend, but Gabe is strange. First he was talking really seriously about the fire, and about five minutes later he completely cheered up and asked me out."
"Really?" said Diane. "You're not going, are you?"
"I said I would," said Jill. "But after the police came over, I don't know. I don't know if I want to go out with anyone until this whole thing is resolved."
"I think you're right," said Diane. "Gabe's always been terribly moody, and--"
"That's what I was thinking," Jill said.
"I have an idea," said Diane. "Why not just forget about Gabe and all the others? You and I can go to my parents' cabin this weekend. Just get away from everything."
"That sounds great," said Jill. "But what about the police?"
"I agree we should tell them what we know," said Diane. "But, Jill, you're too upset to think straight now. If we go to the cabin, we'll have time to figure out what to tell them. Besides, maybe by the time we get back, they'll have found the person responsible and we won't have to say
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