The Space Beyond (The Space Between Heartbeats #1.5) Read online

  He came and apologized while I was in the hospital. I let him off easy. I haven't pressed charges or anything, but some days, I'm tempted.

  I still can't figure out what's stopping me. Maybe it's that we used to be friends back in middle school. I don't know. I guess the guy's not all evil. He’s just messed-up...like I was.

  Adam's face is kind of flushed as he's chatting with... oh, I can't remember his name. Another senior who's geeked-out smart and will no doubt be going to an elite college that costs a bagillion dollars to attend.

  I tune back in to Adam's voice. "Dad can be tough sometimes, but he just wants what's best for me."

  Yeah, right. Adam's dad is Sheriff Hutton. The man I most despise in this world. It was his idea to bury me and cover up the story, because he was afraid it would ruin Adam's life. Because forcing Adam to commit murder wouldn't? What a jackass!

  Thankfully, Dale found me first and Sheriff Hutton didn't get there in time, so he was forced to go along with the story in order to save his own hide. I have zero respect for the man, and I can't believe he's our town sheriff.

  I could blow the whistle on this whole thing. I saw everything while I was trapped between life and death. But the only person who knows this is Dale, because he was the only one who could hear me. It's our little secret, and we're both happy to keep it that way. The only thing that irks me about our choice is that Adam and Sheriff Hutton got away with intent to kill, and I'm so not cool with that.

  If I hadn't been gifted this second chance at life, I would so be haunting their butts until they ended up in psych wards for the rest of their lives.

  But anyway… Adam's applying for Columbia. What's the bet he'll get in. My blood simmers. This is so unfair.

  "It helps when your uncle has sway," Adam admits with a coy smile.

  I glance over at Adam's comment.

  "What? With Columbia?" The other guy’s eyebrows pop up.

  Adam nods.

  His friend turns with keen eyes. "Are you talking about your rich uncle?"

  "Uh-huh." Adam raises his chin, looking smug.

  "He has sway at Columbia?"

  "Yeah, he's a big-time businessman and supports a few colleges on the East Coast. If I play my cards right and work my ass off, I'll be able to get in wherever I want, full scholarship included."

  My ears are on fire right now.

  Sway at a bunch of East Coast schools?

  "So, where do you want to go?" Adam's friend taps his pen on the desk, trying not to look jealous.

  Adam shrugs. "Not sure yet."

  Typical. The guy has a silver spoon in his hand, and he doesn't know if he wants to eat off it. I hate that. I hate that he has everything, and Dale might get nothing.

  Unless...

  I stand tall—well, up, anyway—I'll never be tall. My chin only just reaches over the study cubicle.

  "Hey, Adam," I say brightly.

  Adam's blue eyes round before he drops his gaze back to the computer screen in front of him. I clear my throat, calmly walking around the desks so I can sit next to him.

  Much to his discomfort, I pull a spare chair as close to him as I can and plop into it.

  "How's it going?" I'm forcing a friendly charm. I know this is taking him off-guard. The guy has barely looked at me since I returned to school. He's actually been a very different person since hitting me with his car. He was already a quiet type, but he's got, like, no confidence now. I sometimes wonder if this cloud of shame he lives under is suffocating him. I bet some days he wants to let the truth out just so he can breathe normally again.

  "So, Adam. I couldn't help overhearing that your uncle has sway at Columbia."

  "Yeah, so?" Adam's mumble is terse and surly.

  Don't push my buttons, man. I may be small, but I can still damage you.

  Not physically, but I could pulverize him with some pretty nasty curses. I've been working on them ever since the accident. Dale sometimes lets me tell him, rant it all out...get it off my chest, but then he makes me swear to never let fly in public with what I have to say. Believe me, some days it's an effort.

  "Your dad's brother, right?" I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and force a smile.

  "Yeah." Adam finally turns to me, his eyes narrowing into fine slits. “Why do you want to know?”

  The thought of what I'm about to do scares me senseless, but I don't care. I want Dale to get into Columbia, and if it means chatting to Sheriff Toad Face and convincing him to help me, then I'll do it.

  I jerk out of my seat and flick my hair over my shoulder.

  "I gotta go."

  "Nicole," Adam calls after me, sounding worried. "Nicole, where are you going?"

  *****

  I ditch school. Yes, yes, I know I'm not supposed to do it, but this is far more important than Algebra. Believe me.

  Town is five miles from school. I can hardly walk it, but I manage to score a ride with Gretchen something-or-other. Man, I'm useless with names. I know she's a senior, and she used to have braces. Her teeth look great now. I can't help noticing as I sit in the passenger seat, studying her out the corner of my eye.

  She’s a heavyset girl with a mouse-brown bob. Her thick, frizzy hair frames her square face, and I’d love to tell her to sweep it back in a ponytail or something. It’d make her look so much better, but I don’t dare. It’s a miracle I’m even in her car.

  She looked at me really weird when I walked into the parking lot and called out to her. Seniors are allowed to head off school property during free period and when she hesitantly told me she was going into town, I asked for a ride. She looked at me like I was about to sprout two horns, but my persuasive smile won her over and she mumbled, “Sure.”

  We don't talk the whole trip. I think she's a little scared of me. I have no idea why. Okay, yes, I used to be a bitch, and yes, I may have referred to her as a pink Michelin Man at last year's prom.

  I press my lips together, suddenly struck by how it must have made her feel. I was a punk sophomore kid, one of the few invited to the Junior Prom, and I totally embarrassed her in front of her date. I'd never do that now. Maybe she knows that. Maybe that's why she's giving me a ride.

  She parks the car along Main Street and I give her a smile.

  "Thanks so much for the ride, Gretchen."

  Her nod is small. She won't look me in the eye, and I can't help myself.

  "Why'd you give it to me?"

  She looks surprised by my question, but then shrugs. "You needed one."

  "Yeah, but I…I've never been…I mean, I was…" I look down at my lap.

  "Horrible to me?" Her voice has a slightly hard edge.

  All I can do is nod and mumble a soft, "Sorry."

  Her lips twitch with a little smile. "I thought about ignoring you, but I don't know." She shrugs again. "I would have felt bad about it, and you don't hang out with the mean crowd anymore. I guess I took a chance that you wouldn't say anything horrible to me on the ride into town. Plus, Dale's a really good guy, and I'd hate for him to find out that I cold-shouldered his girlfriend."

  I grin and give her forearm a little squeeze. "Thanks for being cool." She nods, and I turn to leave the car. "Oh yeah, and could you maybe not mention to Dale that I came into town today? I'm planning a surprise for him, and I really don't want him to find out."

  Gretchen's eyes sparkle. "Your secret's safe with me." She's obviously a romantic. Not that there's anything romantic about what I'm doing, but she doesn't need to know that. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." She wiggles her eyebrows.

  I thank her and leave the car before she sees my strained expression. If she only knew what I was about to do, she wouldn't be offering to help me. Raising my chin, I clear my throat and attempt a confident stride as I make my way down the street to the Big Bear Police Department.

  Chapter Five

  The police department is practically empty. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Every set of eyes lands on me as I walk up to the
front desk. The round-faced receptionist greets me with a sweet smile.

  "Good morning." I check my watch. Yes, still morning. I don't sound like a total dork.

  The receptionist looks slightly suspicious of my nervous twitching. I force another grin.

  "How can I help you today?” she asks.

  I clear my throat, trying to sound mature. "I'm completing a paper for a school project, and I need to interview the sheriff. I'd like some personal quotes from a respected town member to add some weight to my argument."

  Ah, the lies. They come so easy.

  "I have a free period at the moment, and I thought the sheriff might be more available now than he would be after school. Is that okay, or do I need to make an appointment?"

  I've learned from Dale that putting on a sweet, innocent expression and suddenly asking if it's okay to do something really softens people. My approach is usually, tell them what I want and if they don't give it to me, tell them a little louder. Much to my angst, Dale's way works better.

  The lady in front of me relaxes slightly and flashes me a smile.

  "Well, if it's for school." She stands and smooths down her skirt, the fat heels on her clunky shoes knocking against the linoleum. "I'll just ask the sheriff if he can squeeze you in."

  I see through the sheriff's glass door that he's alone. I can't help quirking my eyebrow at the receptionist, who gives me a bashful smile and heads across the station.

  After a knock and a mumbled conversation, I'm walking towards the sheriff. He's standing in the door waiting to greet me. When he notices who I am, his expression falters a little, but there's nothing much he can do about it because the receptionist is still watching us.

  The sheriff reluctantly extends his hand and greets me with a cheesy smile. Overdoing it much?

  As soon as the office door closes, his smile flees.

  "Take a seat." He points to the chair on the other side of his desk.

  My heart is hammering, bashing against my rib cage and making me ill.

  I perch on the hard, leather chair. I am feeling so many emotions right now I barely know what to do with them—disgust and loathing are right up there, but they are diluted by fear. This man tried to kill me. He's, like, twice my size, and if he really wanted to, could demolish me. And he'd no doubt get away with it.

  As I watch him settle at his desk, I try to feed off my anger, but that just makes me more emotional.

  Dale.

  The word whispers through my brain, calming me.

  Dale.

  I repeat it about five more times before I open my mouth. "Thanks for seeing me, Sheriff Hutton."

  "What do you want, Miss Tepper? Something about a school project?"

  "Yeah, well." I flick a non-existent speck off my jeans. "That was just so I could get into your office."

  The sheriff's sharp gaze hardens to cold steel. I try not to let this deter me, although it takes some effort. That look could cut through granite.

  I sit up as tall as I can and straighten my shoulders.

  "Sheriff, I need your help."

  His pale left eyebrow rises into a sharp peak, making his forehead crinkle.

  I lick my bottom lip and press on. "You see, Dale is applying to all these colleges, but he really wants to get into Columbia University."

  The sheriff picks up his pen and twirls it in his fingers. "So, he should apply for Columbia then."

  He did, you dickhead.

  I breathe in, forcing my voice to remain soft and calm. "He didn't get in."

  "Then I hope he applied for other colleges, as well." The sheriff looks ready to start ushering me out the door. I hold up my hand to stop him.

  "He wants Columbia, sir." Ugh. Sir. I can't believe I just called him that.

  The sheriff gives me a long, steady look as he rests his arms against his desk. "Nicole, I can't control your boyfriend's fate, and frankly, it's not really my concern."

  I let out a short huff and resist the urge to scowl at him. It’s an effort; my face muscles are practically spasming trying to keep my sweet smile in place. "I know your brother has sway at the college. If he could just put in a good word for Dale. A reference from you would probably help, too. Maybe between the two of you, you can get him in."

  Sheriff Hutton sits back in his seat, looking incredulous. His snigger makes me want to punch him. "And why would I do that?"

  "Because you owe him one." I say the words slowly, like I’m a mother telling off her toddler.

  "I owe him one?" The sheriff drops his pen. That hard look is coming back into his eyes. I glance away from it, but that only makes me look weak, so I force my eyes back to him.

  "Look, we both know Dale and I could have spilled the truth months ago. But we kept our mouths shut, and I think it's time you show a little gratitude."

  "Gratitude?" He threads his fingers together and rests them lightly on his desk, looking anything but relaxed.

  "Come on, Sheriff.” I tip my head. “A couple of phone calls, one little reference. It'll take less than thirty minutes of your time."

  "And why do you think I'd want to spend thirty minutes of my time helping some juvenile delinquent?"

  I scoff. "He's not a delinquent. He's one of the best kids in this town, and you know it."

  "He has a police record, and he broke into my place." The sheriff’s large pointer finger taps his desk with each accusation.

  Anger spits inside of me. "He broke into your place because he suspected your son of a hit and run. And he was right. Remember?"

  The sheriff's lips pull into a tight line. A stormy anger sweeps across his face, highlighting his deep chin dimple. Part of me wants to rise to it—maybe an all-out shouting match between us would clear the air—but I can’t give in. I need to stay calm and do this for Dale.

  Pulling in a slow breath, I keep my voice low and quiet. "Please, Sheriff, you've got to do this for him."

  "I don't have to do anything,” he grinds out between clenched teeth, his angry expression flashing with a quick look of fear. The edge of his mouth twitches.

  My eyes narrow into slits. He’s forcing me into a corner, and I really don't like that. "You know, I wouldn't be stubborn about this if I were you. I could ruin your career."

  The sheriff presses his fingers into his desk and slowly rises. "Is that a threat, Miss Tepper?"

  My gaze wants to falter so badly, but I hold it steady. "Think of it however you like, but I know the truth, and I have no qualms about telling anyone I need to."

  "No one will believe you. You've got nothing." He spits out the last word, almost looking triumphant.

  I slowly rise from my seat. "Adam hit me with your wife’s car and left me for dead. He also threatened Dale and me with a gun. I have every right to press charges, and it'll take me less than thirty minutes to do it." I really didn't want it to come down to this, but I'll do what I have to. I just need to convince the sheriff of that.

  "Don't be insane. You have no evidence." He looks smug, because the evidence we did have was driven out of town in the middle of the night and fixed in an LA garage. Mrs. Hutton dropped Adam to school in her pristine car the next week and none were the wiser.

  "Dale's a witness." I raise my chin and pull my shoulders back.

  "His word against mine?” The sheriff taps his chest. “You've got to be kidding me. I can just as easily press charges against Dale. He was trespassing on my property."

  "You think trespassing is a worse crime than intent to kill? Besides, there's no way Adam would be able to lie his way through a court case. We both know it. My dad's lawyer would pulverize him."

  The sheriff's right hand balls into a tight fist. I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows to let him know I'm all business.

  His lips remain tight and unyielding. He crosses his arms to match mine and raises his chin. "I will not be moved by your threats. Find another way to get your boyfriend into college."

  I want to stamp my foot and scream, but I won’t lower myself t
o it. Instead, I take the high road, hating that the sheriff is forcing me to do this, but confident I can.

  "That's fine, Sheriff." I collect my bag, going for nonchalant and breezy. "If you're not going to help me, I guess I'll just have to find another authority that will." I stop at the door and feign thoughtfulness. "You know, my mom helped the mayor buy his new house a couple of months ago. They became quite good friends throughout the process. I'm sure he'd be very open to chatting with me. There'd be so much we could talk about. Like the fact that the sheriff's son is guilty of attempted murder."

  I reach for the door, ready to swing it open.

  "All right, stop!" Sheriff Hutton slaps his desk and I let go of the doorknob. "I'll write him a damn reference."

  I turn with a pointed look. "And call your brother?"

  His nod is stiff. "Give me two days," he mumbles.

  "Excellent." I'm sure my grin is smug, but I don't care. "Thanks for your help, Sheriff. Give me a call when that letter's ready and I'll come by to collect it."

  I dodge his evil glare and waltz out the door, waving politely to the receptionist.

  I feel light and airy as I awkwardly skip down the stairs. That mayor thing was inspired. It came to me just in time, too, because I was starting to freak out that this was about to be an epic fail.

  I head back into town with a beaming smile and am lucky enough to spot Gretchen, who actually offers me a ride this time.

  You know, my mom's totally right. Putting the needs of others above your own rocks. I can't wait for this all to come through and for Dale to get that letter again. He's going to be so stoked.

  I ignore the long-term consequences for me and force myself to dwell upon the fact that I am making Dale's dream come true.

  That's enough for now.

  Chapter Six

  Sheriff Hutton still hasn’t contacted me and it’s pissing me off big time.

  Three days.

  Not two, but three, and the jackass still hasn't called me. He has access to every number in this town, so he can't use the bullshit excuse that he can’t reach me.