Rock-a-Bye Bones (16 page)

I easily imagined her mulish expression. People said I was hardheaded. And it was true. But when Tinkie planted her feet, she made me look wishy-washy. “Tinkie, I'm counting on you.”

“Sarah Booth, you are impossible.”

“I've heard that before. Too bad.” I pushed ahead. “Good thing Oscar bought a car seat. I'll be in the band hall. When you go in, could you stop at the office and check for any student who drives a BMW?”

“A high schooler at Cotton Gin High drives a Beamer?”

“Times have changed.”

“So it seems.”

I hung up and pressed the gas harder.

*   *   *

Driving around the student parking lot, I found the Beamer with no problem. It was a beautiful car, carelessly parked so that it angled in the path of a compact. The conclusions I drew about the driver were not pretty.

Tinkie would find the owner, and I had some questions for Tally McNair. Skirting the office, I went directly to the band hall. I could hear the students practicing “Here Comes Santa Claus.” I'd almost forgotten the importance of marching in the Christmas parade for the local high school band. For a split second, I time traveled to my high school years. I'd played the flute, briefly. Only once did I march, when I was in seventh grade, but it had been such a big moment. Aunt Loulane had walked the entire parade route—at a discreet distance. She wasn't worried that anything bad would happen, but she knew it would be a moment when I felt very alone.

“Ms. Delaney, what are you doing here?” While I'd been wool-gathering, Tally had seen me. She didn't add “standing outside the band hall door like a stalker.” She didn't have to. Her expression said it all.

“Do you have any of Pleasant's songs?” I hadn't meant to be so blunt, but I'd been caught off guard. “Her mother said you would have them.” Why not throw in a half-truth?

“Her mother said I had her songs?”

Her gaze slid away from mine. Red alert! “Yes. Pleasant told her mother she'd entrusted her music to you for safekeeping. I need to see it.”

“Of course.” She motioned me into the band hall. Ignoring the drums and squawking of woodwinds and tinny brass, she led me to her office. When she closed the door, I sighed in relief at the quiet.

She went to a filing cabinet bursting at the seams with papers. “Pleasant showed me a couple of songs, but I thought I gave them back to her.” She pulled out several files, flipped through them, and at last turned to face me, nodding. “I was mistaken. Here they are.”

I took the sheet music, which had been written by hand. “Pleasant knows musical notation? She's only seventeen.” I could barely write English at seventeen.

“She's a serious musician. I told her if she intended to pursue a career, then she'd have to be able to put her songs on the page, get copyrights, learn how to arrange and produce. That scholarship to Delta State would have put her in a position to step into a career.”

I snapped photos of the sheet music and gave them back to Tally. “This is all you have?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to text a composite drawing of a young man to you later this afternoon. Would you show it around to your students, ask if anyone saw this man hanging around Pleasant?”

“Sure.”

“Who drives the silver BMW in the parking lot?”

She hesitated.

“You've lied to me once. Maybe you'd better rethink your position here.” I knew when to press an advantage.

“I want to help, really. I'll tell you what I know. The Beamer belongs to Amber Tallaniche.”

“From the furniture store?”

“Yes.” She tidied the files. “Amber's part of the clique of girls who were mean to Pleasant.”

“I know all about them,” I told her. “They're next on my list for some hard questions. Do you think those girls are capable of hurting a pregnant teenager?”

“Maybe.”

That wasn't the answer I'd anticipated. “You think they could kidnap or otherwise harm Pleasant?”

“Those girls are used to getting what they want. They believe it's their due. Lucinda lives in Sunflower County, but her mother pulled strings to get her into Cotton Gin High because her odds at getting scholarships were higher. This is a very poor school. Lucinda, Amber, Brook, those girls have had many privileges, and they're going to school here to scoop up every good thing offered. They expected to walk away with all the offered scholarships and awards. Pleasant upset their plans. She's a top contender for the Delta State scholarship. Or she was.”

“A girl who drives a BMW to high school doesn't need scholarships.”

“The title of valedictorian helps with college acceptance. Amber will go east to school. Both of her parents are Princeton graduates, and while that's a plus, it isn't a guarantee.”

“So it's Brook and Lucinda.”

“Be careful. Those girls are treacherous.” Tally was oblivious to the students throwing erasers at each other. One boy jumped a row of chairs, tripped, and hit his chin on the floor. I rose, horrified that he might have snapped his neck. Instead, he jumped up, blood streaming, and began chasing a girl, who danced out of his reach. The chaos in the band hall finally dawned on her.

“Every year the school board tries to cut the band program. They view it as unnecessary. Any little incident can push the board over the top. But these are high-spirited kids and they have so little. They need band and music. Right now, I'd better call them to order or someone will be injured.”

We stepped back into the din. “What does Lucinda play?” I yelled.

“Clarinet. She's very good.”

“And Brook?”

“Clarinet also.”

“Thanks.” I escaped before my eardrums were permanently damaged.

 

13

Tinkie, with Libby resting comfortably in a designer black-and-white sling, was sitting in the principal's office beside a pretty young girl, who obviously smelled something obnoxious, judging from her expression.

“Sarah Booth, this is Amber. She drives the nice car.”

“Since when is it a crime to have nice things?” Amber asked. She looked me up and down. “My mom is taking a load of clothes to the Goodwill. Maybe you should take them.”

Tinkie stood up, sending Amber into screeches of pain. She writhed about in her chair with great drama. I didn't understand what had happened until I noticed Tinkie's stiletto squarely on Amber's big toe. Tinkie stood with her full weight on it.

“Oh, dear,” Tinkie said, looking down and not moving an inch. “I am so sorry. Could you please shut up, you're disturbing the baby.”

“Get off my foot.” Amber gripped the edge of her seat. “Get off me now.”

“Oh, dear.” Tinkie started to move and then stepped back with force.

Amber threw herself over in the chair Tinkie had vacated. “You're going to break my foot.”

Tinkie leaned down close to her ear. “Yes, I am, you simpering little brat. Now straighten up or I'll pierce your toe.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Tinkie stepped away and Amber pulled her foot into her lap. Tears streamed down her face. Her lip curled and she started to say something, but when she looked at Tinkie's grim expression, her mouth shut with an audible snap.

“You have some questions for Amber?” Tinkie asked me.

“The Riverview Motel. You were there four weeks ago.”

“So what?”

“So I think you and your buddies are involved in Pleasant Smith's disappearance. When I prove it, you can kiss Princeton and all the rest of the goodies life holds for you good-bye.”

“I didn't do anything to Pleasant. Why should I care about her? In seven months, I'll leave this dust pit behind. It was my mother's brilliant idea for me to come here because I could excel. No competition.” She flipped her hair. “Pleasant Smith is nothing to do with me. She's my past.”

The big-fish-in-a-little-pond syndrome. “What about Brook and Lucinda?”

“Maybe you should ask them.”

“Oh, I intend to. You're involved in this, Amber. I advise you to cooperate and help us, or I promise you, the future you think you deserve won't bear any resemblance to life in juvy hall and a future with a criminal record. By the way, you're old enough to be tried as an adult.”

So maybe I was stretching the truth, but it had the desired effect. Amber glanced out the window and then back at us. I realized she was taking cues from Brook, who'd ducked in behind some lockers. I opened the door and started toward her, but she shot down the hall. I turned back to Amber. “Your friends can't help you now.”

“You can't hurt me.”

“Right, you're the Gingerbread girl.” Tinkie edged her heel closer to Amber's toes. “Are you so sure about that? Recall what happened to the Gingerbread boy?” She got in Amber's face. “He was eaten.”

Libby woke up with a giant squall and then upchucked all over Amber's dress. The clotted and pungent formula spewed across the black silk blouse and several chunks flew in Amber's glossy hair.

“Oh. My. God,” Amber squalled. “Look what you did. My mother bought this blouse in Paris. It's ruined.”

“Oh, I believe it is. Libby has excellent aim.” I was unable to hold back the laughter any longer. Tinkie, too, was giggling.

“Amber, dear, vomit is so caustic. I hope it doesn't wreck your dye job. There are … clumps of clabber in your hair.”

Amber rose and started toward the door.

“Not so fast,” Tinkie said as she comforted Libby, who was none the worse for wear after the projectile vomit explosion. “We have questions for you.”

“I can't answer questions. I stink!” She clenched her teeth and shuddered.

“Too bad. Sit.” Tinkie pointed at the chair.

Amber hesitated, but she obeyed. Tinkie had won the war. Amber was a girl who didn't yield, but she was afraid of Tinkie. Or maybe it was Libby, our own little secret weapon.

“What have you done with Pleasant Smith?” Tinkie was so direct, I eased into the background. She had the floor and she knew what to do with it. It could have been my imagination, but Libby watched every move Tinkie made.

“I don't have that girl.” Amber touched her hair, found the upchuck, and dissolved into gagging sounds.

“You want to clean that vomit off, then you'd better tell the truth.”

“I don't know what happened to her!” Amber edged toward breaking.

“I don't believe you. And you'll sit here until that vomit molds and turns green.”

Tinkie's threat was bolstered by class change. Students passed by the window of the office and saw Amber. Laughter and finger-pointing ensued. Amber, probably for the first time in her life, was mocked and ridiculed by students outside her grasp. She'd been knocked from her pedestal by seven pounds of charm.

“Lucinda had a plan to torment Pleasant, but no one intended to hurt her,” Amber said. “I wasn't involved. I didn't participate at all. My mother would kill me if I got in trouble and lost my chance at Princeton.”

“But you knew about the plan and did nothing.” Tinkie handed Libby to me. She was ready to get tough. “If something has happened to that girl, you are as guilty as the others. Do you hear me? I'll personally see to it that you spend the best part of your youth in prison, and trust me, little girl, Oscar and I have donated far more money to judicial elections than you or your parents will ever think about.”

Later, I would ask if that were true. Now, though, I sat down, cuddled Libby in my arms, crossed my legs, and enjoyed.

“The others were going to play a joke on her the next time she sang at the Riverview Motel.”

“What kind of prank?”

“Lucinda had some friends in Nashville in the music business. She had one coming to pretend to be an agent. You know, make Pleasant think she was on the way to the big time, and then pull the rug out from under her.”

The cruelty of these girls was breathtaking.

“Why would you do that?” Free of the baby's weight, Tinkie paced in front of the girl. Any minute now, the principal or someone might enter the office and the spell would be broken. It was time for Tinkie to take it on home.

Amber was near tears. Tinkie had put the fear of justice into her. “Pleasant and Lucinda were competing for a full scholarship to DSU. In music. The top scholarship included room, board, some expense money. The second-place scholarship covered tuition, not room and board. Lucinda needed the top scholarship. We all knew Pleasant had the best chance, and there was only the interview portion of the application to go.”

“Embarrassing Pleasant wouldn't ruin her scholarship chance.” I didn't see the logic.

“It would if she missed her appointment to be interviewed.” Tinkie drove her point home. She'd figured out the girls' motive. “You were going to do something to make her miss that interview.” Amber had the good graces to drop her gaze to the floor.

“You would steal her chance? A girl with nothing to fall back on?” Tinkie's voice quavered with outrage. “You are a little monster.”

Libby gave a crow of approval. Well, it was more like a gurgle, but I knew she was proud of Tinkie for getting to the bottom of the issue.

Tinkie was far from done. “And you drove the girls over to the Riverview Motel to check it out so you could plot against Pleasant.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes, ma'am.” Amber had been humbled—or was possibly smarter than she looked.

“You're an accomplice. You'd better hope Pleasant is found safe and sound and that whatever mischief you girls intended didn't play a part in her disappearance.”

“No, ma'am. I swear it. There was nothing said, in front of me, about abducting Pleasant for any length of time. Just long enough so she missed her appointment.” She squirmed in her chair. “Don't tell the other girls I ratted them out. They'll kill me. I mean, they'll ostracize me and I'd just as soon be dead. Lucinda rules the school.”