From where I was sitting I could hear but not see the neighbours. Over to my right the kids had been bribed into washing the family speedboat. They were using a hose with a spray nozzle on the end of it and the exercise soon degenerated into a shrieking water fight. Then it all went suddenly quiet and I heard the murmur of adult voices. Just when I thought the kids were getting a ticking off for the noise and the mess, hostilities resumed. By the sounds of the squealing laughter, the parents had now joined in.
I tried to picture my father, a consultant surgeon, or my mother, a Justice of the Peace, indulging in such juvenile behaviour but my imagination wasn’t up to it.
I wondered what their reaction would be when they heard it on the news that their daughter was wanted for murder and armed kidnapping. It would have been reassuring to have known, without the shadow of doubt, that they’d support and defend me regardless. Past experience, however, told me they would probably want overwhelming proof before they’d believe my side of the story about what had really happened.
I sat and wallowed in a little bitter remembering, the way you’d kick your heels in a muddy puddle, just for badness. It took a while before I’d got it out of my system and stopped feeling sorry for myself. It might be dirty water but it was all under the bridge now. My relationship with my parents had certainly improved lately, even if it hadn’t quite recovered completely.
Unlike Trey’s.
Trey had claimed that his father must have set him up at the Galleria – that he’d arranged in some way for Oakley man and his partner to catch him shoplifting. I wasn’t actually convinced that the boy hadn’t been stealing. By all accounts it wasn’t the first time he’d been brought home in disgrace for petty theft. The chances were, if he hadn’t been doing anything wrong on that particular day, then he was caught for something he’d got away with in the past.
But if Keith had paid Oakley man to snatch his son, why not do it then, when the boy was alone? Why wait until he had his own bodyguard, however inept they believed me to be?
It simply didn’t make sense.
I made a mental note to grill Trey for the details on his arrest when he surfaced, then I went into the kitchen and poured myself another coffee.
***
I had to wait another hour before Scott appeared, by which time I was back out on the deck, soaking up the shaded heat. He poked his head round the open sliding glass door with his hair sticking up more haphazardly than it did normally. How do teenagers do that?
“Hi,” he said, groggy and sounding slightly gurgling, like his throat was full of phlegm. “You wanna Coke?”
I indicated my coffee cup and shook my head. He withdrew back into the house. That was the last I saw of anyone until after nine, when Xander and Aimee rang the front door bell.
Scott let them in. He was wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. So was I, come to that, but he had a choice.
“So,” Xander said, rubbing his hands together. “What’s the plan for today, man?”
I shrugged. “We wait for either Henry to call, or Madeleine to e-mail,” I said. “Then we act on whatever happens first.”
Xander looked deflated. “You’re not gonna spend all day hanging around the house?” he said, making it a question. “It’s Spring Break, man!”
Scott shuffled, looking uncomfortable. “I guess she’s right – we oughta stay put,” he said miserably.
Xander and Aimee both cast reproachful eyes in my direction. When I couldn’t stand the guilt they were putting onto me any longer, I retreated back out onto the deck with yet another coffee. At the rate I was consuming caffeine, I wasn’t going to sleep for a week.
I hadn’t time to finish my cup when Trey slid the door open and came out. I could tell by the set of his face, and the fact that he shut the door behind him, that he was there for an argument.
“I wanna go out,” he announced, scowling. It was as much of a shock to see him with his startling white hair as it was to see myself. “I don’t see why we have to sit around on our butts all day. When Henry knows anything, he’ll call.”
I sat back in my chair and looked at him for a moment. He hadn’t mentioned the possibility of missing contact from Madeleine, and neither did I. “So, the fact that between us we’re wanted for murder by half the police in the state has no bearing on this?” I said mildly.
He glowered some more, his bottom lip starting to edge out.
I sighed. “Where do you want to go?
“Excellent!” He flashed me a fast grin, his expression changing in a second, like he’d flicked a switch.
“Don’t get all excited,” I said, scowling myself now. “It was only a question.” Then I noticed the other three standing up close to the inside of the sliding door, flattening their noses against the glass and crossing their eyes.
Trey saw them and his grin widened. “Looks like you’re kinda outnumbered,” he said.
I sighed again, heavier this time and got to my feet. “Story of my life,” I said.
***
In the end, we compromised. We spent the morning at the house, which included Aimee reapplying my make-up disguise, then climbed into Scott’s Dodge and headed for the main strip, and the action.
Scott checked his e-mail just before we left the house, but there was still nothing from England. I think I was halfway resigned to the fact that we weren’t going to hear anything until Monday morning. I just hoped that Henry hadn’t managed to get us into even more trouble by then.
We had brunch at a little diner on the corner where Earl Street met North Atlantic Avenue. The five of us sat at a table outside, shaded from the sun by a giant umbrella. All the kids with the flash cars were cruising past along North Atlantic, playing their music loud and fighting over who looked the coolest in the heat.
Some of the cars were fitted with hydraulic suspension. If they thought they had an audience, the drivers made them hop and bounce along the road, occasionally lifting one wheel off the ground completely like a giant mechanical dog in search of a very large tree. I marvelled at the ingenuity and wondered at the point.
There were bikes, too, big custom-painted Japanese stuff, mostly ridden by suntanned kids wearing little more than swimming costumes. I was wincing too hard at the prospect of gravel rash if they came off to be impressed by the rolling burn-outs they indulged in. When they stopped I could see they’d worn their back tyres almost completely flat in the centre, which would have made the bikes go round corners like a drunken tea trolley. I started to feel old and sensible.
The cops were a heavy presence but their eyes seemed to glide over the group of us as we sat there, drinking malted milk shakes like we hadn’t a care in the world. The white spiked hair made Scott and Trey look enough like brothers to avert suspicion and Aimee’s work on me was holding up under the strain. Besides, weird-coloured hair seemed to be the order of the day round here. I almost began to relax.
And then Trey’s phone rang.
“Yeah?” he said and mouthed, “It’s Henry,” at me. I hutched closer, putting my head next to his so I could listen in on the call.
“I’ve had a response from the people we were talking about,” I heard Henry say, “but they want proof I’ve got, um, access to you. They wanna e-mail you a coupla questions and you gotta be here to answer right off. You gotta get down here in half an hour, or the deal’s off. You understand?” He was talking fast, his voice breathless.
Trey glanced at me. I shrugged, then nodded.
“OK,” Trey said. “No problem.”
“Outstanding,” Henry squawked. “Remember – don’t be late or the deal is off. These people are kinda serious.”