Ok, the next chapter has a lot to do with law. I don't know much about criminal justice, but just go along with it, ok?
I tried to brace myself for the inevitably painful and possibly fatal tounge-lashing this monster was about to give me. But her stiff glare interrupted my attempts.
"I swear Sammy Keyes, one day you are going to die. If you think that all of this stuff you did is going to get me into trouble, then you're wrong. My mom's outside in the hospital waiting room and she's hired the best lawyer in all of California. You're going to be the one who's going to Juvie, not me. I bet you can't even afford a fucking ride to the courthouse, let alone a fucking lawyer. You're gonna pay for all of this-" she gestured to all of her injuires "-and then some. I guarantee that you're going to wish you never crossed paths with me."
"Acutally, I wished that quite a while ago. Just by looking at you for the first time I wished that."
She huffed and steam appeared to be coming out of her ears, and her face heated up like a hot chili pepper. She looked like a raging bull that was a bout to charge. "Sammy Keyes, don't push me! I have strength like you've never seen." She stared me down with her red eyes.
"Really, Heather? Is that from all of the marijuana you've been inhaling lately?"
She laughed evilly. "Everyone knows that marijuana doesn't strengthen you. It weakens you. And that's why you've got no proof." The look on her face was absolutely malicious.
"Yeah? Well I'd bet all of Santa Martina that I have got proof and your punishments will be settled without even having to go to court. And you will pay for everything you've done to me, starting with the first day of school."
She glared, breathing roughly. She glanced at the door, where Officer Borsch was talking to a nurse outside. I don't know how on Earth she did, but she managed to step out of the wheelchair, lift up her uninjured arm, and slap me across the face. "Who do you think you are?"
My cheek hurt, more than it had ever hurt when she slapped me. But I managed to croak out steadily. "I'm your worst nightmare."
First, I checked to make sure Officer Borsch wasn't looking anymore. Then, I wobbled out of the bed, grabbed her uninjured arm, and twisted it in an awkwardly painful way that Hudson had taught me as self-defense. I brought my face close to hers, close enough that I could feel a few of her earrings on my hurt cheek. "Leave," I hissed.
I thrust her back into her wheelchair, opened the door, and wheeled her out. When the door was closed, I slid down the side of it, sighing and panting with exhaustion. My head was spinning more than ever, and my cheek was stinging with fury. Quickly enough so that Officer Borsch wouldn't notice that I left my bed, I ineptly slid back in and threw the covers over myself.
Officer Borsch was coming back in, holding papers. Drug-test results.
"Samantha, Heather says that you twisted her arm." He exhaled deeply.
I shrugged. "She slapped me first. Was I supposed to just let it slide?"
"Yes, Samantha, stop making this more complicated that it has to be!"
I sighed. "Did you get the drug-test results?"
"Yes, they're right here. Now, the nurse explained to me that there is a sign of marijuana in their blood streams, but it's a different version and it's unidentifiable."
"Well, there are new types of marijuana coming out. I think this is one that intensifies your strength. Have there been any of those in Santa Martina?"
"Yes. It's a very new marijuana form, and charges can be very high for using it because it's so unknown."
"There you go."
"But I don't have enough proof to lay down on her. Because it's unknown, virtually no charges can be pressed if you don't have enough proof."
"Ok. Here's what you do. Learn about Derek Sheffield. Get a search warrant from the courthouse a few blocks away, and search his house. The evidence you need is the smell of his car and my witness. Persuade the court, do as much as you can, because I can absolutely guarantee that you'll find all the proof you need in their house."
"That's a lot to ask, Samantha."
"I know, but you have to trust me!"
Just then, Cricket barged through the door, gasping with exhaustion.
"I got here as fast as I could. Here's the screen. Let me hook it up for you." She pulled a little chip out of the hat and put it in a little slot of a mini-DVD player.
"What is all of this, girls?" Officer Borsch asked.
"Proof. To clear my name and show that Heather attacked first."
Watching the video was horrible. I was a little happy that all of her confession was recorded, but the punching was unbearable. It was like feeling the punching all over again.
"Wow, Samantha, you really do things professional around here."
I managed to smile. "I know."
"I'm going to drive down to the courthouse. In the meantime, someone else wants to talk to you. And don't worry, all charges will be removed. You did punch back, though. So I am going to have to sentence you to 30 hours of community service."
Relief swept throughout my body. 30 hours! That was nothing. I didn't have to go to Juvie, and I could help out around town. What a breeze.
Officer Borsch and Cricket left. Grams walked in. At first she was startled by my injuries, but her concern was quickly fogged over by her anger. She thoroughly bit into be with her words, yada, yada, yada and made me promise I wouldn't do anything like that ever again. After she asked this, I just stared at her.
"You're right, Samantha. I can't make you promise that. It's your nature. But please, stay as safe as possible and keep the injuries to a minimum. Now it would be better if you quit all of the snooping altogether…"
"Grams!"
"Ok, alright. The city needs someone like you, I know, I know. You just scare the wits of this old lady sometimes."
Finally, after a while of talking with Grams, Officer Borsch came back inside my room. Grams left silently.
"I got the warrant. Now, are you coming?"
"Me? Seriously?"
"Yes, you. The judge allowed me to take the prosecutor with me. You are prosecuting, right?"
"Yeah, sure, as long as I get to come along!"
My head felt much better now, and my shoulder wasn't really going to get in the way. I changed into a fresh pair of clothes Grams had brought with her. I walked right out of those hospital doors, past Marissa and Billy, who were making out in the lobby. Gross.
Then Casey. Oh, Casey.
"Sammy! You're feeling better! Where are you going?"
"Investiagating," I simply responded. Officer Borsch was talking to the same nurse again, so I could talk with Casey for a little bit.
"That's great! Could I come along?"
"Sure, why not?" I kissed him, grabbed his hand, and we walked out, followed by Officer Borsch.
"Who's this?" he asked.
"This is Casey. My boyfriend." Gosh, saying that felt so nice. "Do you mind if he came along?"
"Acutally, I'm not supposed to let anyone else come along…"
"Please? He'll be a big help, and he's really smart."
"Ok, but only because you're Sammy Keyes. Hop in the car, kids."
We got into the backseat and drove to a worn down, clapboard house in a shady neighborhood. The guy who answered the door, Mr. Sheffield, was really resistant to letting us in. But Officer Borsch had experience with this, and he managed to squeeze the three of us in. Mr. Sheffield kept on trying to steer us away from looking around, but Officer Borsch wouldn't tolerate any of it. We searched thoroughly, for quite a while. But nothing came up. I was starting to get worried.
I noticed that Mr. Sheffield was really only trying to protect one part of the house, and it was right under the kitchen floor. I got down on my knees and tapped on each of the boards, until I got to a few hollow-sounding boards in the center. Now, at this time, Mr. Sheffield was trying to grab me off the floor. Officer Borsch pulled him off, and held Mr. Sheffield's arm behind his back. Officer Borsch was looking at me in confusion.
But Casey seemed to see what I was getting at. He helped me remove the boards one by one.
It was dark and spooky below. A little staircase lead down to the secret chamber.
I have to admit it: I was a little creeped out. But I knew I was in the right place because coming from the chamber was a thick, nasty smell that I recognized almost instantly.
I held onto Casey's hand tightly and began my descent down the stairs.
