Payback (5 page)

Just then Steven shows up. As usual, he’s dressed like he just stepped off a photo shoot for
GQ
, and when he smiles, his teeth glow in what seems an almost unnatural white against his tanned face. But Mom is glad to see him, and now they both direct their attention at me. Of course, he has to make a bunch of flattering comments, which sound a little forced to me, and even more embarrassing than Mom’s. I almost admit that this is only a rental dress and no big deal, but I can’t blow my cover. So I just smile and endure their compliments until a black limo finally pulls up in our driveway.

“Wow,” Steven says as he looks at the car, “you’re really going in style tonight, Sam.”

“See ya,” I call as I head for the front door.

“Hey, don’t you want Conrad to come in?” he asks with a confused expression. Fortunately, Mom takes over now, leading him to the kitchen while I make a quick exit without having to explain why I’m not going with Conrad tonight.

“Hey,” says Eric, who is hallway up the walk, “what’s the big rush? I was going to knock on the door and do this thing right.”

“My mom’s boyfriend is here,” I say. “I don’t want to have to explain this to him. He thinks I’m going out with Conrad.”

“Right.”

So we hurry back to the limo, and Eric opens the back door. Feeling like Cinderella rushing to beat the clock (although that was
after
the big party), I practically leap into the car, and he gets in behind me. To my surprise Ebony and several other plain-clothes cops are in there as well.

“I got your message,” she says, “and I decided to bring in the forces.”

Suddenly I feel uncertain. “There’s still a chance this might not be the right prom,” I remind her.

“Like I said, Samantha, there’s a chance that it is. And we’re not taking any chances.”

Ebony goes over details as we’re driven toward the city. “Eric has on a wire,” she says, “so we’ll hear all your conversation. But if by chance you get separated from him, which we don’t plan on, and you see anything suspicious, just call me on your cell.” Then she goes over the rest of the details, explaining where she and the others will be posted. “And the police forces
in North Shore and Portland, as well as the FBI, are nearby as well. All are on high alert. And just so you know, they really appreciate our cooperation in this.”

By the time the limo pulls up in front of the Marriott, I’m a bundle of nerves. I take several deep breaths, shoot up a silent prayer, then steady myself as Eric helps me out of the limo.

“By the way,” he says as we walk to the entrance of the hotel, “you look lovely tonight, Betsy.”

I grin. “And you look pretty hot yourself, David.”

“We’ll be the mystery couple tonight.”

“Where do you go to college again?” I say, just in case we have a conversation and someone asks.

“Portland State.”

“Right.” I
can do this
, I tell myself as we go inside.
With God’s help, I can do this.

E
ric (a.k.a. David) handles the tickets, and then we even pose for a photo beneath the starry arches before we go into the ballroom where the prom is being held. There are only a few couples, and I suspect some of them are on the committee and are there to make sure all goes well. Apparently the theme tonight is Hollywood and the red carpet. I’m not sure how Eric and I fit into this, but at least I don’t think we stick out too badly. I suppose we should’ve checked on this sort of thing before selecting our “costumes.” Like what if the theme had been tropical paradise and everyone had come attired in hula skirts, sarongs, and Hawaiian shirts?

Eric and I pretend to admire the glitzy decorations, then eventually get some punch. Fortunately the girl at the refreshment table doesn’t seem to realize that we don’t belong here. I’m guessing North Shore High is big enough that she doesn’t know everyone. Hopefully no one else does either. After what seems a long time, more couples begin to trickle in. Eric and I stay near the entrance, taking turns watching for the girl in the celadon green gown. And surprisingly, or not, no one even speaks to us. We get some curious glances, as if they’re
trying to place us, but for the most part we are ignored. Maybe prom crashing isn’t that unusual after all.

“Here comes a possibility,” Eric says as he takes me by the elbow and, almost as if we’re dancing, gracefully switches positions so I can see a blond girl in a light green dress.

“Close,” I tell him, “but that’s not her.”

The night seems to drag by, and more and more I feel that this is the wrong prom. To pass time, I call Ebony and tell her as much, but she assures me that none of us is going home until the prom ends at midnight and everyone else is gone.

“Don’t worry,” Eric says as we go to the dance floor again. We stay along the perimeter of the smooth, wood floor, close to the entrance so we can take turns watching for the girl in the green gown. “No one’s going to blame you if nothing happens tonight, Sam. Just consider this good practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah. I’m assuming we’ll be attending more proms…until we hit the right one and prevent the shooting.”

I let out a groan.

“Hey, most girls would think this is fun,” he says, “getting dressed up and riding in a limo to a prom.” He frowns. “Or is it me? Am I a bad dancer?”

I laugh. “No, not at all. You’re a great date, Eric. It’s just that it’s kind of stressful, you know?”

“That’s what being a cop is about, Sam. You should know that.”

“I know…I do…but this is different. When it’s my vision or dream, I feel like if nothing happens, people will think I’m some wacko who was stringing everyone along.”

Eric laughs now. “We know you’re not a wacko, Sam. We all have great faith in your gift. We’ve seen it before. So far you haven’t been wrong.”

I nod and glance uneasily toward the entrance. I just wish that girl would get here and we could get this over with. Then I think of something. “You know, Eric, in my dream, the shooting occurs on marble floors.”

“The dance floor is hardwood,” he says, “and it’s carpeted over there.”

“I know. The marble is in the lobby.” I stop dancing now. “Maybe that’s where we should be. Maybe the girl never makes it into the actual prom.”

He’s already guiding me to the entrance. “Let’s get some fresh air, Betsy,” he says to tip off Ebony. Of course, this reminds me that they’ve been listening to our conversation all along. I hope I haven’t said anything too stupid.

We go out in the lobby now and sit on a bench that encircles a fountain so we can watch couples coming and going. After a while I notice that more of them seem to be going than coming. “I don’t think this is the right night,” I say again.

“But is it the right place?” asks Eric.

I look around the lobby now. “The floor is right,” I admit. “But I remember strings of lights in the background.”

He glances around. “I don’t see any.”

“I know…”

He looks at his watch. “Well, there’s less than an hour left now anyway. We can tough it out, can’t we?”

“Sure…So since we’re stuck here, tell me, Eric, are you dating anyone?”

“Besides you?” he teases.

“Yeah, and don’t tell my boyfriend, okay?”

“Actually, I have a girlfriend.”

“Really? What’s she like?”

He considers this. “She’s pretty and smart. Her name is Shelby, and she’ll graduate from college in June with a teaching degree.”

“She’s going to be a teacher?”

“Yeah. She actually wants to teach middle school.”

“Wow, she must be a brave woman.”

“She is.”

“Well, that’s good. I think you need to be brave to date a cop.” I think about my parents…how my mom used to worry…how her fears were finally realized. I hope and pray that never happens with Eric and Shelby.

Finally it’s midnight, and almost everyone is gone. We wait until we’re certain this is not the scene of the crime in my dream. Back in the limo, everyone assures me it’s not my fault, saying it’s better to be safe than sorry. And then Ebony tells me that another prom is scheduled for next Friday.

“We’ve already checked out the hotel for it, and there’s not a scrap of marble floor anywhere. But I think it’d be wise for you to go by next week and have a look at it just in case.”

“So I don’t have to dress up and go to that prom?”

“Not unless you see something that convinces you the location is right.”

“The hotel tonight really seemed like the one in my dream,” I say sadly. “Well, except for no strings of lights and the fact that the girl in the green dress never showed and I was basically wrong.”

“So far the only thing we know was wrong was tonight’s date,” Eric points out.

“And,” says Ebony, “there happens to be another prom right here one week from tonight.”

“Which school?” I ask.

“McKinley.”

I consider this. “Isn’t McKinley in sort of a, well, not a very affluent neighborhood?”

“It’s a somewhat blue-collar community.”

“The kids in my dream seemed like rich kids,” I admit. “And Olivia and I found what could’ve been the girl’s green dress in a magazine. It was pretty spendy.”

“Maybe that will make it easier to spot her at the prom,” suggests Ebony

“Maybe… but it seems unusual that a girl from McKinley would have an expensive dress.”

“Maybe she has a rich uncle…or maybe she rented it.”

I sort of laugh. “I didn’t see any dresses that nice at the rental place.”

“Even so, why don’t you get me the information on the dress, and I’ll see if I can find anyone in the Portland area who carries that particular dress and try to track down someone who’s purchased it.”

“So, Sam, do you want to do this again?” asks Eric.

“Sure,” I say feeling unexpectedly hopeful. “I definitely want to prevent the shooting.”

“And that gives us a whole week to do some more snooping,” says Eric.

“Hey maybe I could head over to McKinley,” I offer. “Just look around and see if I can spot that girl or even the guy.”

“That’d be great,” says Ebony “I wouldn’t want you to miss much school, but maybe you could get excused for a day.”

“Sounds good,” I tell her.

“How about Friday?” she suggests. “That way it will be fresh in your mind before the prom.”

“Except that every other Friday is test day in chem class,” I point out. “Not that I would mind missing that.”

“How about Thursday then? If you do it later in the week, it will give us more time to gather information.”

“I just hope I’m not wrong…”

Ebony smiles at me. “I know you’re disappointed about tonight, Samantha, but you do know that we’re all taking this very seriously. We take
you
seriously.”

“I know…”

“By the way, I asked at the hotel if there was a theme for the prom, and their events coordinator said it was going to be casino night. Sounds like it’s going to be pretty colorful.”

“High rollers,” says Eric with a nod. “That should be interesting.”

By the time they drop me off, it’s settled. Same time, same place next week, hopefully with a different ending—and not a tragic one either. As soon as I get inside, I call Olivia. She sounds sleepy but curious, so I give her a quick update.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says finally. “But I wish this was all over and done with.”

“Me too,” I admit. “Still, I need to see it through.”

“Absolutely.”

“I just wonder what I can use as an excuse for Conrad next weekend.”

“Hey, which prom is this anyway?”

“McKinley.”

“McKinley?” she shrieks in my ear. She suddenly sounds totally awake. “No way!”

“Why? What?”

“Because our band was just asked to play for McKinley. Cameron told us today. Apparently the band they’d booked totally bailed on them. They actually left the state and took the school’s deposit money with them.”

“Seriously? The Stewed Oysters are playing
that
prom?”

“Unless their prom committee finds another group they think is better. But Cameron sounded pretty sure. He has a cousin who goes there and told them about us.”

“That’s so weird.” I realize this complicates things for me. What if a band member says something to blow my cover? I’ll have to run it by Ebony.

“But cool.” Olivia sounds happy now.

“Hey do you guys do any Pretty Ricky songs?”

“Oh yeah, sure.”

Goose bumps creep up the back of my neck as I recall the song in my dream. “It’s pretty late,” I say to Olivia. And it is definitely late, but the fact is, I don’t really want to think about this anymore tonight.

“Yeah, I was half-asleep when you called. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and hope we can get everything into place by next weekend. With God’s help I believe we will prevent this.

———

The next morning I find my mom sitting at the dining room table surrounded by papers and punching numbers into a small calculator. “What’s up?” I ask.

She looks at me with a tired expression, then removes her reading glasses and just shakes her head. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, something isn’t right with our finances, Samantha.”

“What kind of not right?”

“I mean, there should be more money in my account.” She gives me a slightly suspicious look. “You don’t know anything about this, do you?”

“Huh?” I stare at her, feeling indignant. “What are you saying? You don’t actually think I’ve helped myself to your bank account, do you?”

“No, no…of course not.” She runs a hand through her messy bed-head hair, then frowns. “But what about Zach? Do you think he could’ve possibly done something?”

“I don’t see how, Mom. He was in jail for two weeks, and he’s been in rehab since then.”

She nods. “Yes, you’re probably right. It’s just that I can’t figure out where it went. My checking account was a little low, but I shouldn’t have been overdrawn. What worries me most is that my checking is connected to our savings.”

“So do you think your savings has been affected too?”

“It’s possible.”

“Do you have much in there?” I ask.