Panic (4 page)

It only took half a second. “Wait,” Diamond called out. “Let me text my friend.” She tapped the message in quickly, hoping her phone had enough juice to send it.

m,

ill call u ltr. i hve a chance 2 try out 4 the lead in a ptr pan dance movie w/ diva dawson and california clover. awe-sum, huh? my mom nos all abt it. (or she will soon.) sry 2 leave u out, but this was 2 good 2 pass up. tell miss g im sry 2 miss the sho, and not 2 b mad @ me. cyl

d

She sent the text, grabbed her hot pink dance bag, and left the mall with Thane English.

The rain continued. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“. . . a nameless fear clutched at her heart and made her cry.”

—from
Peter Pan

“She did
what
?” Zizi Cho cried out in disbelief, bugging her eyes out. Zizi was the studio comedy and drama queen. She could make herself hyperventilate over a lost peanut butter sandwich and distract an entire class into giggles as she mimicked Miss Ginger's moves behind her back.

But this was no time for humor. A half dozen dancers were huddled around Mercedes in the small rehearsal room behind the auditorium, which smelled of old sweat
and fresh baby powder. Justin, hearing Zizi, hurried over and joined them.

Layla was staring at Mercedes, her hand over her mouth. “What's going on?” Justin asked.

“Diamond left the mall with somebody who told her she could be in a movie,” Mercedes explained. “The
lead role
, she wrote in her text.”

“How dumb is
that
?” Jillian Aylor said with a sniff, continuing her deep knee bends, exhaling breaths of superiority with each dip.

“She said in her text that California Clover and Diva Dawson are going to be in it,” Mercedes added. “And it's gonna be based on
Peter Pan
, like our show.”

“Shut
up
!” Zizi crossed her arms across her chest. “I'd
kill
to meet those two! And to be in a movie with them . . . man! It'll make our little performance look like a kindergarten show.”

Jillian stood up straight and frowned. “If they've already cast two big stars for the movie, what do they need with Diamond? There's no way she'd get the lead part if they already have roles.”

Mercedes cocked her head. “You know, you're right! I never looked at it that way. I guess Diamond didn't either.”

“Did you tell Miss Ginger yet?” Zizi asked. Though she was shorter than the others, Zizi's prowess at unbelievably high leaps with seemingly little effort more than made up for her lack of height.

“Yeah, as soon as I got here. She was freakin' out, tryin' to locate Diamond's parents,” Mercedes explained.

“Miss Ginger isn't canceling the show, is she?” Jillian asked as she held a stretch.

Mercedes and the others exchanged glances. That was just like Jillian—more interested in her own agenda than in anyone else.

“I don't think so,” Mercedes said, “but I'm not sure if I can perform tonight. She took off with someone she didn't even
know
! I feel all messed up and kinda scared.” Several other dancers nodded in agreement.

Layla told the group, “I heard Miss Ginger say the show will probably go on without Diamond, but I can't believe Diamond would dump us like this.”

“Hang on a minute. If all this is on the level,” Justin said, holding up his hands, “it's an amazing opportunity. Even if all she gets is a small role, that would be awesome.”

“You really think she'll get a part?” Layla asked. She picked up a carrot stick from the fruit and veggie platter Miss Ginger always put out on performance nights—Layla worried about every pound she carried—and nibbled on it nervously. What she'd give to be as thin as Jillian!

Justin looked at Layla. “I bet if
you
took that carrot out of your mouth and auditioned, they'd give
you
the lead.”

“Oooh, I heard that!” Zizi said. “You better not let Donovan hear you talkin' like that.”

“I ain't sweatin' Donovan. I just gave my opinion,” Justin said with a shrug.

Layla blushed and quickly turned to Mercedes. “So, do you think this is on the level?”

“I have no idea. All I know is what she texted me.”
Mercedes fisted her hands to keep them from shaking. Then she admitted, “It seems pretty shady to me.”

“Have you tried to call her?” Zizi asked.

“A million times—no answer. But her phone was almost out of juice when we were at the mall.”

Layla pulled Mercedes into a hug and whispered miserably, “She's got no phone! How's she gonna get in touch with us?”

At that moment, Miss Ginger hurried into the rehearsal area. Her face was etched with worry. Diamond's parents were right behind her. Mrs. Landers looked stricken; her husband looked furious. He was clutching Shasta's hand tightly. Shasta looked like she was about to burst into tears.

“Mercedes, we need you a moment,” Miss Ginger said, beckoning her over. Her friends moved closer so they could hear the conversation.

“Yes, Miss Ginger?”

Layla gasped as Miss Ginger said, “We've contacted the police, and they'll want to speak to you as soon as they get here.”

“The police? Why? Diamond didn't do anything bad! Just stupid,” Mercedes said, confusion on her face.

“Mercedes, she left the mall with a
stranger
—it's a potentially dangerous situation,” Miss Ginger said, loud enough for them all to hear. “So we can't be too careful.”

“Well, yeah, but . . . ”

Diamond's mother reached out and touched Mercedes' hand. “Are you sure you didn't see who she left with? Do you know if it was a man or a woman?” she asked, desperation in her voice. “Why would she do something so foolish?”

Layla watched as Mercedes bit her lip and struggled with that impossible question. “No, I didn't see anybody. For real,” Mercedes told them. “When I got to the food court, she was already gone. Like I told Miss Ginger, all I got was the text—the one I showed her.”

“Diamond is pretty solid, Mrs. Landers,” Justin added. “She wouldn't have gone with someone unless she felt pretty confident he was on the level.”

“She'll call you in a minute, and you'll see—it's all a big freak-out over nothing,” Layla chimed in.

“So why has no one heard from her?” Miss Ginger asked.

“They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday,

till every detail of it was stamped on their brains.”

—from
Peter Pan

Mercedes sat in an empty classroom, bouncing her leg nervously. Steve sat with her, holding her hand.

“Hey, this is Mr. Baxson's classroom, right?”

Mercedes nodded and glanced around. Drawings of the internal organs of frogs. Photos of endangered reptiles and mammals. Animal cages. An acrid pet-shop odor, almost masked by fresh cedar shavings. One small
hamster scampered feverishly in a wheel, the squeaky rhythm matching her heartbeat.

“I'm supposed to be getting ready for our show!” she said. “Why are they making me do this now?”

“At least they're not making you go down to the police station,” Steve said, his voice calm.

“Yeah.” Mercedes looked at him. “This is totally insane. I'm glad you're here—I'm scared.”

Steve massaged her hand. “Everything is gonna be okay, babe. You'll see. Diamond'll call, everyone will yell at her, cops will come to school and give a don't-talk-to-strangers lecture, like in middle school, and life will go on.”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so.”

“I just wish I had more to tell them, but I wasn't at the food court—I never saw anything,” Mercedes said helplessly.

Steve stood up and peeked into the hall. “Uh-oh, here come some cops.”

Moments later two police officers entered the room. Their clothes smelled damp, and their shoes left wet footprints on Mr. Baxson's floor.

Mercedes' parents followed behind them. She jumped up and ran to her mother, suddenly feeling like she might burst into tears. Her father touched her hair, patting it over and over.

“Please have a seat, folks,” the taller of the two officers said.

Mercedes' dad just barely squeezed behind the classroom desk. She glanced over at him, and he patted his
bulging belly and tried to make her smile. It didn't work. Her mother, still dressed in the suit she'd worn to work that morning, looked pale and worried.

“This won't take long. I'm Officer Lori Burrington, and this is my partner, Officer Jimmy Valido.”

Valido was short and round, shaped like a jelly doughnut. Mercedes found herself wondering what would happen if he'd ever had to chase criminals like officers do on TV. Burrington was tall, muscular, and tough-looking, as if she'd been beating up on bad guys for a long time. Both of them wore black bulletproof vests that had
POLICE
in big white letters on the front and back.

“Why are you wearing bulletproof stuff?” Mercedes found the nerve to ask.

“Standard procedure these days. We wear them to go get ice cream,” Valido told her.

“Please state your name and age.” Officer Burrington's voice was no-nonsense.

“Mercedes Ford. I'm sixteen.” Her voice sounded squeaky, and she cleared her throat.

“And you, sir?” Valido asked, turning to Steve.

“My name is Steven Wilkins. I'm seventeen; I'm her boyfriend.”

“Were you with Diamond and Mercedes at the mall?”

“No, sir, I just heard about everything when I got here to see the show. I'm here for moral support, if that's all right.”

Mercedes hoped they wouldn't make him leave, so she was relieved when they said nothing else to Steve. Burrington scribbled information in a notebook, while
Valido took notes on a small electronic tablet. He also snapped pictures of each of them, Mercedes blinking at the bright light from his camera.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened today at the mall, Mercedes?” asked Officer Burrington.

“There's really not much to tell,” Mercedes said, feeling helpless. “We went to buy tights for tonight's show and get some pizza from the food court.”

“The name of the store, please.”

“C'est La Danse. It's our favorite dance store. But we didn't have time to fool around because we had to get here for our show.”

“You and Diamond are both scheduled to be in tonight's performance?” Valido asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“At some point the two of you separated?”

Mercedes lowered her eyes. “I, uh, bought a new leotard, and Diamond went on to the food court by herself. She was getting us both a slice. I'm so sorry!” She could not hold back the tears.

“This is not your fault,” Burrington told her in a businesslike voice.

“You've gotta try not to blame yourself, sweetie,” her mother added.

Fat chance,
Mercedes thought.

“Do you have the receipt for the leotard?” Valido asked Mercedes.

“Uh—I guess so. Why?” Mercedes asked as she dug down into her dance bag and pulled out the purple one from the dance store. While searching for the receipt,
she touched the silky fabric of the leotard—it made her skin crawl. She handed the whole bag to Officer Valido.

“Thank you. The time you bought the article is stamped on the receipt, and that will help us when we review security tapes at the mall.”

“You haven't done that yet?” Mercedes asked. She looked from Steve to her parents in alarm.

“One thing at a time. We can do it much more quickly when we have an exact time to start from,” Officer Burrington explained.

Mercedes glanced at her parents—they looked tense and nervous in the small school desks.

“Let's continue,” Valido said, peering at the receipt. “So you separated shortly before 2:20 p.m. How much longer did you stay in the store?”

Mercedes tried to think. It was all such a blur.
Did I look at dance shoes? I think I glanced at Madame Jolie's new catalog while she was ringing me up. Did I go back and check out that new red warm-up? I think I did.
She felt nauseous.

She told the officers, “Maybe five minutes. No more than ten. Miss Ginger doesn't like for us to be late, so I hurried.”

Officer Valido nodded. “And when you got to the food court, what did you do?”

“The food court is pretty small. I glanced around, but it was easy to see she wasn't there.”

“So what did you do next?”

“I went to the ladies' bathroom to see if she'd had to make a pit stop. But all the stalls were open. I checked every single one.”

The officers were taking notes furiously.

“Can you tell me what you did then?” Officer Burrington asked.

“I went back to the food court, and she still wasn't there. I thought maybe she'd decided to stop in one of the shops, so I tried to call her.”

“And then?”

“When I opened my phone, I saw she had tried to call me. I think my phone must have been on vibrate, because I didn't hear it.” Mercedes' mouth dropped open. “If I had answered when she called, she'd still be here, right?” Now new tears began to stream down her cheeks.

“No, dear,” Officer Valido said. “You did everything right. Please go on.”

Mercedes' mom hurried over and kneeled next to her. “Sh-sh. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay.”

Officer Barrington handed Mercedes a tissue. Then she asked, “When did you discover the text message?”