Catch (2 page)

“Thief!” she screamed at the top of her
lungs, pointing at the guy. “Someone stop him! He stole my
purse!”

People stared at her and then down the
sidewalk at the guy. Nobody made a move to stop him. Her feet
pounded the sidewalk and she dodged people left and right. She
could still see him. Ahead of him was a little red brick partition
separating the sidewalk from a very busy intersection. He would
have to turn the corner and she might lose him. She ran harder …
then almost stopped in shock as he leapt over the fence right into
the busy street. It was an intersection with no crosswalk, and as
he darted between cars, horns honking left and right, Miranda
wondered if she should follow him. She was nearing the partition.
It was now or never. She came to a complete stop, looking across
the road as traffic paused at a red light. She scrambled up and
over the partition, careful not to catch her clothes. The light was
still red, and she ran past the stopped cars to the other side
where there was a short stone fence. She leaped over that one and
caught sight of the guy still running at a dead sprint. She felt
like her lungs might explode as she tried to catch up to him.

As she ran, her mind skipped over the
contents of her purse and the things she was in danger of losing.
Her mother’s expensive SLR camera. That was replaceable, although
the pictures of her and Julia would be a pain to replace. Her
wallet with a debit card, her driver’s license, her and Julia’s
five-day monorail passes to get back to the hotel, and about two
hundred dollars in cash. All of that was frightening to lose, but
replaceable too. Her iPod. That was replaceable. Her key to the
hotel. Was that a big deal? Her cell phone. That was replaceable,
but a pain in the butt to lose. It wasn’t password protected, but
she had safeguarded it when she’d bought it so she could lock it
from online if it was ever lost or stolen.

But there were the pictures, and those
weren’t replaceable. She imagined the disappointed look on her
mother’s face. She had to get them back. She ran even harder. Up
ahead, she caught sight of the Eiffel Tower replica looming over
Paris Las Vegas, its tall spire backed by a sea of blue sky. When
she looked back down, the guy was gone.

Gone
.

She swore under her breath and stopped
running. She was in front Bally’s—a tall, skinny building
stretching up, up, up. A long row of white columns were set in a
half-circle along the concourse where she stood. Up ahead was
another stairway with escalators leading to a pedestrian bridge
across the road. Had he gone up there?

Running forward, she peered up at the
escalators. No men in suits. Then, along the bridge, she caught
sight of a head of brown hair moving quickly. It was difficult to
see much of anything with the white railings in the way. She had to
take the chance. She leaped onto the escalator, running up two
stairs at a time until she was at the top and could look out across
the bridge. She couldn’t see him, but the bridge led into a covered
area inside the Bellagio, probably filled with shops and
restaurants. He could hide anywhere in there.

With a heavy sigh, she felt her shoulders
droop. She hadn’t been fast enough. Everything was gone. She was
going to have to call the bank and cancel her card, lock her phone,
explain to her mother what had happened. Buy a new purse. She’d
spent over a hundred dollars on that thing just a few months
ago.

Then she remembered that she’d left Julia all
alone down at The Flamingo. Julia wasn’t helpless, but that didn’t
make it right. She rushed down the escalator again and rounded the
corner to head back to The Flamingo. Well, she had just been
thinking about how she wanted more excitement in her life. She
supposed it had finally happened—for a moment, anyway.

“Miranda!”

Miranda let out a sigh of relief as Julia ran
toward her. “Sorry I ran off,” she apologized as Julia stopped in
front of her and put her hands on her hips, irritated.

“I thought I was going to find you shot on
the sidewalk,” Julia growled. “What were you thinking?”

Miranda shrugged and wiped her palm across
her forehead. She was sweating so much it felt like she’d just
walked under a waterfall. “I didn’t want to lose Mom’s pictures,”
she answered. “I figured he couldn’t hurt me in public if I caught
up with him, but he was too damn fast. I think he went inside the
Bellagio.”

Julia looked across the congested street
split down the middle with a median of palm trees. The tall, curved
hotel stood majestically behind an expansive turquoise pool. “Yeah,
that place is like a small town,” Julia moaned. “There’s no
way.”

“I know, so just forget it. My purse is gone
and we have to tell Mom and Dad. You brought your phone, I
hope.”

Julia slipped it out of her back pocket.
“Right here. I guess I was smart not to bring a purse.”

“Do you have any money?”

“Not very much.” She pulled out a five-dollar
bill, three ones, and some change. Miranda stared at the bills,
disappointed. It was probably enough to get a cab back to the
hotel, but if they could make sure their mother would come and get
them, they could buy something to eat while they waited. If they
had to, they could walk the few miles back to their hotel after
that.

“Let’s get some food and call Mom.”

“Where?”

Miranda looked up at the bridge. “I was about
to say we should go into the Bellagio to eat, but I’ll bet all
those restaurants cost a fortune.”

“You probably need reservations.”

Miranda nodded. “We’ll go in
after
lunch, though … just to look around.”

“I thought you said forget about it!” Julia
said, rolling her eyes.

Miranda grabbed her hand and pulled her up
the street toward the Eiffel Tower replica. “There should be
somewhere to eat up here.”

Once they were seated outside with the
Bellagio right across the street, they talked the waiter into
letting them order from the kids menu. They shared a cheeseburger
and fries, or, as the French menu called it,
Cheeseburger and
Frites
. Miranda picked at her fries and kept staring at the
hotel.

“Forget it already!” Julia said as she took a
huge bite of her half of the cheeseburger.

“I know, I know.” Miranda turned back to her
food and tried to enjoy it. She had already called her bank. She’d
also called her mother, who was on her way to pick them up. The
plan was to stop by the Las Vegas Police Department down the road
to report the theft. That left a small chance that the guy might be
caught.

“I feel like such an idiot,” Miranda muttered
as she sipped her water. “You know, they always tell you to be
careful with your purse, especially when you’re a tourist. I
probably shouldn’t have even brought it.”

Julia sighed. She shoved a fry into her mouth
and looked at her phone, typing something before setting it back
down with a desperate, sad look on her face. She was probably
texting her boyfriend.

Miranda wadded up the straw wrapper by her
plate and threw it at Julia’s forehead. It hit her right between
the eyes. “Do you even want to be here on this trip?” she
asked.

Julia threw her a genuine glare and rolled
her eyes. “Dad didn’t have to bring all of us. It’s totally your
fault we’re all here.”

“Don’t blame me if you’d rather be home
making out with Gavin Hall whenever Mom and Dad aren’t looking.
I’ve told you before, Jules. If you’re not careful, you’re going to
get yourself in trouble, and I won’t be around to help you.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Miranda huffed and held out a finger. “One:
if you go too far, you could end up pregnant. If that happened, I’m
not sure Mom would ever get over it.” She held up a second finger.
“Two: all any guy wants is one thing. Take a big, fat, wild guess
what
that
is. Once you give it to him and he gets tired of
you, he’ll split and leave you with a broken heart, even if you do
end up pregnant. All men are the same.”

“Oh, what
ever
. Just because you’ve had
bad experiences doesn’t mean Gavin will turn out the same.”

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut and took a
deep breath. Julia was wrong. Every guy Miranda had ever dated had
turned out to be a sex-crazed, self-centered jerk. Luke had left
her when she’d refused to go past second base with him. Ryder stuck
around for a while, but then she’d found out it was only because he
was cheating behind her back with Amber Mitchell. “I had to get
some action somewhere!” had been his excuse.
Please
. She had
made out with him constantly. It wasn’t like she was a complete
prude. Then there was Christian. She didn’t even want to think
about Christian.

“That’s not how Dad is,” Julia said.

“Of course not, but he’s … well, Mom was
lucky.”

“Well, maybe I’m lucky too. Gavin is not like
the losers you date. You just watch and see.”

Miranda held her breath as she realized that
once she was in college she wouldn’t be able to watch much of
anything that went on with Julia. Fifteen was such a tricky age,
and she wouldn’t be there to help her sister with any of it. She
would hear news about her from their parents, talk to her on the
phone or maybe video chat sometimes—if time allowed. That thought
made Miranda sad. She had chosen to attend a university clear
across the country in North Carolina. Her parents had a decent
income, but they probably wouldn’t be up to flying her home all the
time. She’d never thought about how much she might miss of her
family’s lives. She had been too worried about scholarships and
dorm life and class schedules.

After polishing off her share of the fries,
Miranda started on her half of the cheeseburger. She hated eating
things together. One thing at a time was the only way to go. Julia,
on the other hand, was the opposite. She would shove two fries into
her mouth and chew for a minute then take a bite of cheeseburger
before she had even swallowed. She wasn’t picky about a lot of
things, even her boyfriend, Gavin, who had greasy black hair and
big, clownish ears. But he was kind and thoughtful, so maybe since
Julia wasn’t so picky about looks, she was more likely to find
somebody worth finding. Maybe Miranda had stepped on too many
cracks, walked under too many ladders, and shattered too many
mirrors. Bad luck seemed to follow her like a plague, especially
when it came to men. Or was it because she was too picky? And if
so, was that something she should change?

“Since you’re not going to forget about your
purse,” Julia said as she picked up the last of the crumbs from the
fries, “what would happen if you called your phone?”

Miranda froze for a moment. The sweat on her
body had long since cooled beneath the shade of the table umbrella.
She was almost getting cold now that she had eaten and wasn’t
moving. “You think he’d answer?” she asked in a trembling
voice.

The suggestion seemed ridiculous, but at the
same time it was intriguing.

Julia nodded and picked up her phone. “Maybe
I’ll call it and see what happens. I can tell you’re going to stay
all sulky about this until we do something.”

Miranda jumped out of her chair and leaned
across the table. “Don’t you dare!”

Julia laughed and held up the phone. “Too
late!”

Taking a deep gulp of air, Miranda snatched
the phone from Julia’s hand and pressed it to her ear. It was
ringing. Julia had really called, but there was no way the guy
would answer …

“Hello?” His voice sounded deep, but young at
the same time.

Miranda stiffened. Across the table, Julia’s
eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

“U-um …,” Miranda stuttered, unable to finish
her sentence.

“Is this Miranda?”

Her heart had already been pounding, but now
it was banging so hard in her chest it felt like it was trying to
jump up her throat. She should say no, but her curiosity got the
best of her. “Yes,” she answered in a raspy voice.

“Thought so. Is there a reason you’re
calling?”

You stole my purse, asshole!

But she wasn’t about to say that. “Um …”

Was that all she could say? Sheesh.

“I can’t believe you ran after me,” the guy
said, confirming he was the purse thief. “Nobody’s ever done that
before.”

Miranda noticed he didn’t exactly have an
accent, but he sounded refined somehow, every consonant and vowel
carefully placed. Nothing about any of this felt quite right. Was
this how criminals acted?

“Nobody has ever called their own phone,
either—at least not before I could strip it and sell it,” he
continued before she could say anything. “I’ll give you points for
that.”

Miranda straightened in her chair, anger
surging through her body. She felt cold and hot at the same time.
With the anger came courage. “What do you mean
points
? Is
this a game to you?”

“Maybe.”

Miranda shot a
“what the hell?”
look
at Julia. “Who are you?” she said into the phone.

“You can call me Ollie.”

“You’re telling me your name?” she snorted,
trying not to laugh.

“Who said that was my name?”

“Okay,
Ollie
, I have some photos at
the bottom of the purse you stole right out of my hand, and I want
them back. They are important to my family. They’re the only
pictures we have of my grandmother. Are you enough of a
cold-hearted thief not to return them?”

Julia started laughing as she sipped at her
water.

“I don’t know,” he said in a methodical tone,
as if he was searching through the purse at that very moment. “It
might be tricky getting something to you.”

“Just leave them somewhere and tell me the
location. You can keep everything else in the purse. I won’t even
report you.”