Authors: Midnight Hour
“If you need help, Detective Ayres said, clearly offering. Again she smiled at Marino. Grace felt a quick stab of antipathy toward the other woman, and appalled by the mi-1plications, immediately strove to banish it. Marino shook his head no to the offer of help, and Gelinsky and Ayres left, the latter with obvious (to Grace at least) reluctance.
“You have any toothpicks?” Marino asked when Grace handed him the trash bag.
“I think so.” She returned to the pantry, located the box of toothpicks she had used to spear olives and cheese for her last dinner party, and returned with them to the table. Marino extracted perhaps a dozen from the box and inserted them into the top and sides of the cake.
“What are you doing?” Grace asked, mystified. “These’ll keep the plastic off the icing,” he explamied, giving her a quick smile loaded with self-deprecating humor.
“Good thinking.” Grace was impressed-both with the toothpicks and the smile, which dazzled her. “My mother used to bake cakes all the time. Won
prizes for them at the state fair. Believe me, I know
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
205
about transporting cakes. Now hold the bag open for me, please.”
Grace complied. Marino deftly slid the cake inside, and sure enough the toothpicks held the black plastic away from the icing. That done, Marino picked up the pictures, which Ayres had left on the table, glanced at them a final time, and put them into his pocket.
“I’ve got to go.” He picked up the cake, holding the plastic-wrapped bundle carefully with both hands beneath it. “I’m due at my newest niece’s christening”he glanced at the clock on the wall-“in thirty minutes.”
“Wait a minute,” Grace said, her bedazzlement instantly torpedoed. Her hands curled around the top back rung of the nearest chair as she stared at him in disbelief “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to do? Look around, take a few pictures, ask some questions, and then just leave? What about this person who is breaking into my house and terrorizing my daughter and me?”
For a moment he just looked at her without speaking.
“Grace,” he said finally. “I’ll make sure this cake thing–and the other things-are thoroughly investigated, I promise. But I have to tell you that we don’t have much to work with here. Gift cakes and messages on a mirror and stolen teddy bears are not enough to justiffy mobilizing the entire police department.”
“They’re threats.” Anger was building in her voice again. Her lAands tightened on the chair back. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally, turning toward
the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he added, “I’ll do
206
KAREN ROBARDS
what I can. In the meantime, keep the doors locked, whether you’re home or not.”
“That doesn’t seem to do much good, does it?” There was a slight shrillness to her voice. “Just like calling the police doesn’t seem to do much good.”
“We came, didn’t we?” He headed toward the door with Grace at his heels.
,,And you left.” Her tone was definitely shrill now. “Without doing anything to resolve the problem. Like I said before, you’re not taking this seriously.”
“I’m keeping an open mind,” he said, pausing in front of the door and nodding at it. “Could you get this?”
“Great.” Grace opened the door for him ungraciously. A rush of cool air, the soft roaring sound of what was now a downpour, and the smell of dampness, of soaked earth and greenery and pavement, greeted her. “I’ll keep reminding myself of that. Knowing you’re keeping an open mind certainly makes me feel better, let me tell you, when my daughter is being stalked and threatened because of your drug investigation.”
He stepped onto the porch, then turned to look at her, a slight smile tilting up a corner of his mouth in silent acknowledgment of her sarcasm. With the ephemeral grayness of a sheet of falling rain for backdrop, his broadshouldered frame seemed suddenly very solid and substantial, and she realized how much she did not want him to leave. “All right, you made your point. As of this moment I am now, officially, taking this seriously, I promise. But I really don’t think you or your daughter are in any physical danger.
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
207
Whether these are threats or pranks or just a bizarre series of coincidences, nobody’s confronted you orJessica directly. I don’t think anyone’s going to.”
“I certainly hope you’re right.” Her voice positively dripped sarcasm this time.
His smile broadened into a grin. “Call me if you need me.”
He turned away.
Helplessly, angrily, Grace watched him cross the porch and then take off running down the steps with a left turn at the bottom toward the driveway, at which point the dripping snowball bush largely blocked him from her view. Mouth tightening, she shut the door and locked it.
As she turned to walk back into the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee, it suddenly struck herjust how vulnerable she was, alone in her large, echoing, empty house.
Which someone with evil intent could apparently enter at will.
Cbapter
25
//ESSICA, LOOK, it’s Rusty Curran! Over there, with Todd Williams and Andrew Sykes and Jason Olshaker!” Emily jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow. Her excited whisper was, Jessica feared, loud enough to be heard clear down to the opposite end of the crowded mall, where Emily’s mother, Ann, was shopping in Lazarus Department Store.
“Shh! ” Jessica warned, shifting away from the sharpedged elbow as she shot a covert glance in the direction Emily indicated. Sure enough, there was Rusty, in
y khakis and an untucked flannel shirt, laughing bagg
and talking in the middle of a pack of his similarly dressed friends. It looked as if they had just come out of the movies, which were the centerpiece of that section of the mall. Streams of people moved in front of and behind them.
“Quick, let’s duck in here.” Panicked, Jessica steered Emily and the others-Tiffany Driver and Polly Wells-into the nearest store, which happened to be an earring boutique. It was a mistake. Allison and Maddie
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
209
were in there-basically all the high school kids who weren’t nerds hung out at the malls on the weekendtrying on earrings in front of the mirrored walls. Spotting them, Jessica almost backed out again. But it was too late. They’d seen her, too, through the mirrors.
“Why, if it isn’tjessica!” Allison said, too sweetly, as she turned away from the mirror. Like a lot of the kids in the cool crowd, Allison blamed Jessica for bringing the cops down on their heads. IfJessica were normaltranslation, nondiabetic-their reasoning went, she wouldn’t have passed out that night in Brandeis Park and they could have bought their pot and gotten out of there without the cops having any idea who they were. Thanks to Jessica, the heat was on now at Hebron, and it wasn’t safe to bring so much as a Midol to school.
“Hi, Allison, Maddie,” Jessica offered weakly, knowing herself scorned. The bright blue earring that Allison wore in one ear-she held the other in her hand-almost exactly matched the eyeshadow that swept from her lid to her brow. Unwillingly, Jessica admired the effect. From her chunky sandals to her tight black mini to the pumpkin-orange streaks that adorned her hair today, Allison was so stylin. Jessica knew she couldn’t look that good in a million years.
To handle the stress of the moment and stay cool, what she really needed was a cigarette. Not ‘ust for the nicotine, but because it would look so right. i She didn’t have any with her, though. She’d left her Winstons under the swing cushion on the porch.
“Are you hangin’ with the girl jocks now?” Maddie’s tone was patronizing. Unlike Allison, she was a blonde, with waist-length hair held back from her face
210
KAREN ROBARDS
by a leopard-print headband that exactly matched the scarf she had used to belt her tight blackjeans. She was pretty, probably the prettiest girl in school, although she was not considered to be as cool as Allison, and she was totally aware of her place in the scheme of things. The look she swept over Emily, Tiffany, and Polly was openly contemptuous. In the hierarchy that every student at Hebron lived by, girl jocks were in a class just slightly above the total dweebs. Definitely uncool.
“Hi, Allison,” Emily said in a small voice, while Tiffany and Polly didn’t speak at all, merely nodded. Emily was broadshouldered, with muscular arms and legs, a flat chest, and a bouncy, athletic walk. Tiffany was almost six feet tall, and broomstick-thin. Polly was shy, flat-chested, and wore both glasses and braces. All three of them were total zeroes with boys. To Allison and Maddie and their crowd, such social misfits just didn’t count. Like every other nonperson at Hebron, Enuily, Tiffany, and Polly knew their status and were intimidated by it, and by the two pretty, popular girls who confronted them.
Thanks to her damned diabetes, Jessica knew she was now reduced to the ranks of a nonperson, too. “Jessica plays basketball. Didn’t you know?” Allison
said to Maddie. She completely ignored Emily’s greeting, and, indeed, her presence, and Tiffany’s and Polly’s, too. Her focus was all on Jessica, the recently fallen.
“Eww, no, I didn’t,” Maddie said, in exactly the tone she would have used if Allison had asked her if she didn’t know that Jessica had lice in her hair.
,’Jessica’s really good,” Tiffany said loyally, making
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
211
Jessica want to sink through the ground. “I bet she makes the team.”
“Well, isn’t that special?” Allison cooed. “I just bet she does, too.”
“Hey, look, it’s Rusty Curran and his crowd,” Maddie said, spotting the boys through the glass window as they passed by.
“Jessica likes Rusty, don’t you, Jessica?” Allison gave Jessica a malicious smile. “Does he know you’re here, Jessica? I bet he came to the mall just hoping to run into you.”
Of course former friends Allison and Maddie knew how she felt about Rusty, Jessica thought, willing her face not to turn red.
“Let’s tell Rusty Jessica’s here,” Maddie said, giggling, and Allison nodded. Before Jessica could stop her-she would have thrown herself on top of a live grenade to stop her-Maddle darted out of the store.
“I’ve got to go,” Jessica said abruptly, not caring what Allison thought if she could only get away before they humiliated her in front of Rusty. With Emily, Tiffany, and Polly trailing, Jessica practically ran from the store.
“Jessica, wait, here’s Rusty!” Maddie called. A quick, involuntary glance back showed Jessica that Maddie, indeed, had Rusty in tow. Giggling, she had one hand hooked around his arm, pulling him onward. His friends were farther back, mere faces in the mifling crowd. Rusty was frowning as he looked after Jessica. She wasn’t surprised, Jessica thought, her body burning with humiliation. It wasn’t every day that a guy like Rusty had a girl positively flee fi-om him.
212
KAREN ROBARDS
Witi-iout warning, her toe caught on something. She tmblcd, flailed her arms, and fell. just like that.
For what seemed like an eternity she lay facedown the cold terrazzo floor. Her life passed before her es, scene by scene. Mortification was the mildest
e . in for what she endured. It was so all-encompassing tc ;It it overrode any physical pain.
011 e you okay, young lady?” A man with cordovan V/ Ing tips and gray polyester trousers knelt beside her, j,; hand touching her back.
“Jessica! Jessica, are you all right?” Emily, Tiffany, Od Polly came running up. Into her line of vision a, , rne J cans with frayed edges, sneakers, Polly’s embarC, sing lime-green laces.
Pr “Should I call security?” A woman’s voice. Tan Wyse, sensible black pumps.
Jessica scrambled up. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice io-pitched as her trembling knees threatened to ,,IMP her back on the floor. “Really. I’m not hurt.”
The man, silver-haired with glasses; the woman, a ,unp boutique clerk; and other passersby nodded and ,,,,,led away-
“Are you sure?” Emily asked. Jessica barely heard ,,r. Rusty was walking toward her, long hair thrown ,,,,ck from his face, grinning from ear to ear. Maddie
1,ing giggling to one of his arms and Allison, also gigling, clutched the other. Neither of the girls reached
0.gher than his shoulder. Large and in charge was how he ),I, described at, school. just looking at him made JesV1/;ts
SiL a feel dizzy.
“That was so funny,” Allison said between giggles. ,,,i,’ou must have been practicing.”
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
213
“It takes somebody really clumsy to trip over a bench in the middle of the mall,” Maddie said, her eyes snapping maliciously at Jessica.
“Shut up, you bimbos, Jessica might really be hurt,” Rusty said in a voice that was only serinjocular. Despite his wide grin, Jessica was stunned to see what appeared to be real interest as he looked at her.
“I’m okay,” she said again in a tiny voice. Unbelievable that Rusty Curran was really looking at her like that. Rusty Curran, the hero of her daydreams-and fantasies. He was so cute, and he had the bluest eyes.
“I can give you a ride home, if you want,” he offered. “That is, if you hurt yourself, and you don’t feel like shopping anymore.”
Maddie and Allison looked shocked. Rusty’s friends, who had joined them in a cluster, looked surprised. Emily, Tiffany, and Polly were slack-Jawed with amazement.
None of them was any more dumbfounded than Jessica herself
Rusty Curran, one of the most popular guys at Hebron and certainly, in her opinion at least, the cutest, was offering to give her a ride home?
Unbelievable. Such a thing was the stuff of her wildest dreams.
Her life flashed before her a second time. That is, the most recent weeks of her life. Brandeis Park. Her being grounded. The mirror. The cake.
She had promised her mom that she would not, for any reason, leave the other girls.
“I can’t,” she said, feeling her heart break. “Whatever.” He shrugged, accepting the news with
214
KAREN ROBARDS
unimpaired good humor. All the girls, from Aflison to Pohy, looked even more shocked at Jessica’s refusal. Jessica barely noticed them. Her eyes were all for Rusty as he turned away.