Playing with Fire (9 page)

Because it's Sunday and tomorrow's a school day, we call it a night. When I get home, I'm not surprised to see that Zach is still out. But I'm thankful Mom is back now.

“How was the coast?” I give my damp jacket a shake and then hang it on a hook by the door.

She frowns. “Even wetter than here.”

Too bad.”

“But we had a nice lunch.”

“How's Steven doing?” I sit down across the breakfast bar from Mom, watching as she dips a tea bag up and down in her mug.

She squeezes her tea bag, then sets it on a napkin. “He's okay.” She nods toward the tea kettle on the stove. “That water's still hot if you want some tea or cocoa or something.”

So I get out a tea bag and pour a mug full of water and come back to join her, hoping this might be my chance to raise my concerns about Zach.

“How was the movie?”

I shrug. “Not so great. We think we saw Zach and Tate afterward.”

She brightens a little. “Were they at the movie too?”

So I explain how they were over by the apartment complex. “But they might've parked there for the movie,” I tell her, although I know it's a no-parking zone.

“Steven is convinced that Zach doesn't like him.”

“Really?” I study her expression and wonder if this is why she looks kind of bummed. “Why's that?”

“Well, remember when they met on Wednesday?
Steven said that Zach said some things that sounded like a hint.”

“A hint?”

“You know, like ‘leave my mom alone.’“ She sort of laughs. “Although Steven is taking it pretty well. He said that he thinks it's a fairly normal response and that he'd probably act the same way under those circumstances.”

“Is that why he hasn't been around here much lately?”

She nods, then takes a sip of tea.

“I'm a little worried about Zach, Mom…”

She doesn't say anything, just keeps looking down at her tea, but I can see her frown lines deepening.

I consider telling her my suspicions about his alcohol use, but that feels like tattling. So I tell her about’Ebony's warning instead.

“Yes…” She looks up at me. “I've heard the same thing, Sam.”

“So, are you worried?”

She sighs. “Well, naturally, but I'm trying to stay positive.”

“I did talk to him,” I say. “I asked him why he wasn't going to NA meetings or talking to his sponsor.”

“And?”

“He said he's going to start next week. He told me not to worry.”

“Then maybe you shouldn't.”

“Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself. That I should pray instead of worry. And for the most part, I do. It's just that I feel a little guilty.”

“You
feel guilty?”

“Because I kind of helped to reconnect him with Tate. And now I'm not so sure about Tate.”

Tate's a nice kid, Sam. I'm glad they're doing things together. I think Tate's good for Zach.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Tate seems to have his head on straight. I even like the fact that he's taken time off from school just to be sure that he's picked the right major. He didn't want to waste his parents’ money. That shows real maturity. And there's nothing wrong with getting experience in the business world.”

“I guess so.” Maybe I'm all wrong about Tate. Maybe I am just getting paranoid.

Mom smiles now. “And you need to remember that you're the youngest one in this family, Samantha. It's not up to you to take care of the rest of us. Just relax and have fun…enjoy being a kid, okay?”

“I do.”

“Speaking of fun, Steven invited us to go skiing with him next Saturday. All this rain down here is translating into some good spring skiing up at Hood. You interested?”

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

“Great. Plan on it. Hopefully Zach will want to come too. I think it'd be a good way for him and Steven to get better acquainted.”

“I'd be surprised if he didn't want to come,” I tell her. “I don't think he has been snowboarding since high school.”

“Then maybe you could encourage him to join us.” She stands and puts her mug in the sink, looks at the clock, and tells me good night.

I consider this as she heads upstairs. On one hand,
Zach
should
be glad to go snowboarding. On the other hand, what will it be like for Zach and Steven to be stuck together for an entire day? What if they get into some kind of ugly squabble?

F
or the sake of the task force, I think you should keep your involvement quiet,” Ebony says as I meet with her on Monday afternoon.

“I sort of thought that was what you'd say, and I haven't told Olivia. I've also been thinking I'd like to do a little surveillance work.”

Ebony sort of smiles. “What kind of surveillance work?”

So I explain my idea about tracking some of the kids at school, ones like Jack, who are probably involved in drugs. “Not to catch them, but just to see who they might be connected to—maybe even the dealers, you know?”

“That could be dangerous, Samantha.”

“I know. But I think I could do it without drawing attention. Especially since I'm just a kid like them. We end up at the same kinds of places a lot of the time anyway. I doubt they'd even notice me. And I'd be careful.”

“We'd have to put you through some sort of surveillance training.”

“Great!”

“That is, if the powers that be would agree to such a crazy idea, which remains to be seen. Also, we'd have to get your mother's approval… Oh, I don't know, Sam.”

“Look, Ebony,” I plead with her. “I want to be a cop. I'm on the drug task force. And you said yourself that this is a problem that hurts kids my age. Plus I've already been in some pretty dangerous spots.”

Her brow creases as she considers this. “Those are good points. And if you're going to continue working with us, you really will need more training.” She goes to her bookshelf and retrieves a book called
Secrets of Surveillance.
“You might try studying this for starters, not that I can promise you anything, but I will talk to the chief and get back to you.”

“Tell him I'd be really careful, and remind him that I've already been in some tight spots and that some additional training would be good — “

“Yes, yes, I think I got that already.”

“But you're not taking it seriously?” I frown.

“I am taking it seriously, Sam. And I like the fact that you're taking it seriously too. And I would-like to see our town get a handle on this problem before it becomes an even worse crisis.”

“So maybe it's possible?”

“Maybe…” She picks up a pen and turns it around in her hand. “But you'd have to be able to keep your identity completely secret. Other than your mother, no one can know.”

“Not even Olivia?”

She shakes her head. “And this is all assuming that we get approval, Sam.”

“But if I can't tell Olivia…,” I say, sort of thinking out loud. “I mean, she's my main mode of transportation. Other than my bike, that is.” Okay, it's embarrassing to
admit this. But it's the truth. I grin at Ebony. “I guess I'll just have to do my surveillance on foot.”

Ebony chuckles, then nods. “That would make it difficult.”

“I have been saving for a car, and getting paid from the police department will help too. But I can't really afford one yet.”

“Well, before you get all worried about a vehicle, you'd better let me do a little research around here and see if this is even viable.” She makes a note of something, and suddenly I'm worried that she might set me up in one of those “unmarked” police cars that are so obviously police cars. I almost say this, but that might sound insulting since she drives one. Besides, I really am jumping the gun here. It's possible this whole surveillance idea will be shot down by the end of the day.

We talk a little more. She asks about Zach, and I tell her that everything's fine. I do this for several reasons: one, I don't want to sound ungrateful for her intervention and her brother's rehab facility; two, I don't want to admit that Zach isn't doing that well; and, tinree, I'm hoping things will change, and I'm trying to give my brother the benefit of the doubt.

That's great, Samantha. I was really praying for him last week. I'm glad to hear it's going well.”

So we say good-bye, and I go back outside to where Olivia's waiting for me. She's talking on her phone but finishes up as I get in the car.

“That was Cameron,” she says as I fasten my seat belt.

“What's up?”

“I told him I'd come back to the band.” She starts the car. “But with the understanding that I am totally out of there if drugs or alcohol are being used.”

“And he's okay with that?”

“He said he was.”

“I didn't see Jack at school today. How about you?”

“Trust me, I was keeping a lookout for that dude. And I didn't see him at all until the end of the day. I noticed him standing out by the west exit, smoking a cigarette.”

“Maybe he's just keeping a low profile.”

“He was with that new girl, the one with the motorcycle jacket, the electric blue bangs, and attitude.”

“She's in my journalism class,” I tell her. “She transferred here from Madison last month. Her name is Felicity, and she acts like she has an attitude, but I think she's just shy.”

“Sorry,” says Olivia. “I didn't mean to sound like a snob.”

“I've been trying to be nice to her. She seems a little depressed, and it can't be easy switching schools. But I'm disappointed to hear she's hanging with Jack.”

“Well, they looked happy together.” Olivia sort of laughs.

I don't respond to this. It's just as wrong for me to judge Jack as it is for Olivia to judge Felicity. Sometimes I feel like a pathetic example of a Christian.

“Maybe Felicity will be a good distraction for Jack. I'm sure he's seriously ticked about being dropped from the band. I just hope he's not mad at me personally.”

“You might want to take Alex up on his bodyguard offer.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. But maybe Jack and Felicity will fall madly in love, and he'll forget all about his botched music career.”

“I still wonder if it was Jack who put that Ziploc bag in your car,” I say as she stops for a light.

“He seems the most obvious suspect.”

“Unless it was Garrett…” Okay, I feel sort of bad to say this out loud, but it's too late.

“Not
Garrett,” she says quickly. “I cannot imagine that sweet boy using something as hideous as meth. It's just so wrong.”

I try not to take offense on behalf of Zach now. But I do get quieter.

“So is Ebony putting you on a new case?” she asks after driving a few blocks.

“Not exactly. Mostly we were just catching up.”

“Oh…”

I don't go into any sort of explanation. And I do feel kind of bad for shutting her out, but I can't figure any other way to handle it. I'm so used to telling Olivia everything, and suddenly it feels like I can't tell her anything. I mean, I can't talk about the task force or my desire to do surveillance work. And I don't really want to talk about my concerns for Zach, since that might make it seem like he's a failure, confirming her prejudices regarding meth addicts.

So I just keep my mouth closed until we get to my house. Then I thank her for the ride and go inside to find Zach and Tate sitting in the family room watching a DVD that looks pretty violent and raunchy to me. They don't say anything to me, and I ignore them, going straight up to my room, where I flop onto my bed, close my eyes, and try to imagine what a “normal” family might be like.

And then I start to get that sensation, that buzzing feeling. It's like the room is turning, and that's when I see something blue. As though a camera lens is focusing,
the splotch of blue slowly grows clearer, and I see that it's actually Felicity's bangs hanging down over her forehead and obscuring her eyes. She's lying on an old red sofa with one hand limply draped over her mouth, and the other arm seems to be twisted behind her back in a way that looks pretty uncomfortable. Her face is very pale, and she's not moving. And then I see what looks like a hypodermic syringe off to one side, along with a spoon and a candle stub. I'm not exactly sure of the meaning of all these items, but I suspect they're drug related. Then just like that, the vision disappears, and I sit up and look around my room to see that all is normal.

I go online to do some research. I guess I just need to confirm that what I saw really was drug related. I assume it's meth. But then, after reading some pretty disgusting details, I know for certain. Now what am I supposed to do? Should I warn Felicity? And if I do warn her, how will she react? Will she think I'm a narc? Will she stop talking to me? The only way to figure this out will be to pray for help. If God gave me that vision about Felicity, He must plan on giving me the means to help her. So I get down on my knees, and I really pray for her.

“Dear heavenly Father, I believe You've shown me that Felicity is in serious danger, and I really do want to help her. I just don't know what to do…where to begin. But You know what to do, and You care about her—so much so that You gave me this vision. Please protect Felicity. Keep her safe until she can get some serious help. And help me to continue befriending her. Help me to win her trust. Show me what to do and how to do it. Please lead me and guide me. I really do want to serve You. I really do
want to love Felicity the way You love her. But I need Your help. Amen.”