Prom Date (17 page)

"This was never fun," Margaret retorted-^We're not looking for Beth to invite her to a slumber party, Caroline. We're looking for her to give her bad news. How could that possibly be fun?"

"Well, you know what I mean. It's kind of fun for the two of us to be doing something together. Like we used to. Graduation is scaring me a little, Margaret. I mean, I know we're both going to State together, but I have this

awful feeling that things will be really different at college," Caroline turned a comer. "Anyway, I know Mitch is going there, too, so you'll probably be spending tons of time with him and will forget about all your old friends. We said that would never happen, but all kids say that. Then they grow up and it happens." There was no cheerfulness left in her voice as she added, "I just have this awful feeling about everything changing."

"It could change in a good way," Margaret said, and at the same moment, spotted Beth, with a new haircut, walking to her car, parked at the curb directly in front of them. "There she is!" she shrieked. "There's Beth!"

Then everything happened at once. And even though Margaret knew it had to have happened quickly, in a matter of seconds, it seemed to her to have taken place in slow motion.

Beth climbed into her car.

Caroline slammed on the brake.

Her car squealed to a halt.

But not in time.

It crashed with a resounding clang of metal on metal into the back of Beth's shiny new graduation present, a bright yellow Acura.

The impact popped Beth's trunk lid.

People coming out of the shopping center

came to a standstill. People driving by on the tree-lined side street slowed. Some cars came to a halt. A woman coming out of the salon whirled and ran back inside to phone for help.

"Oh, no, oh, no," Caroline moaned as her own car shuddered to a halt, "I don't have my contacts in. They were driving me nuts so I took them out at the store and it says on my license. Must wear corrective lenses. Oh, no, I am going to be in such trouble for this!'' Un-bloodied and unbruised thanks to her safety belt, Caroline turned to Margaret, desperation in her eyes. "Margaret, please, if you've ever been my friend for even one second, be my friend now! Do not, please, do not mention to the police officer who will surely be here any second now, that I am not wearing my contacts, okay? Please, Margaret! I'm in enough trouble as it is. My dad is going to have seven fits!"

Shaken but uninjured, Margaret asked, "Won't a police officer be able to tell that you don't have your lenses in?"

"No, of course not. Just don't say anything, okay?" Caroline's hands were shaking visibly. "We'd better go face the music." She uttered a short, bitter laugh. "And you thought we were already bringing her bad news, right?"

Eddie McGill pulled up in a cruiser. He was

alone. His window down, he glanced at the driver of the damaged car and called as the two girls slowly emerged from their own car, "Driver's okay. Bumped her head is all, looks like. Be right with you," and he pulled the car over to the curb across the street.

"I am a dead person," Caroline muttered as Beth pushed open the driver's door and slowly, carefully climbed out, one hand to her forehead. "I won't be allowed to drive again until Vm seventy-five years old."

Beth, still holding her head, walked dazedly around to the rear of her car, staring at the damage in horrified dismay.

"Beth," Caroline stammered, "Fm sorry, Fm so sorry, the sun was in my eyes and I didn't realize how close we were. Our insurance will pay for the damage. I am really sorry."

Beth moved then, took a step, then another toward the rear of her car, just as Oflficer McGill arrived. "I see you found her for me," he said to Margaret and Caroline. "Got a call to keep an eye out for this car. Didn't quite expect to fiind it in this shape, though."

"I should close that trunk," Beth said, her voice emotionless. "I should go do that."

Margaret was standing directly to the right of the popped lid. "It probably won't close,"

she said, "but FU give it a shot." She put a hand on the trunk lid and would have tried to shove it closed if she hadn't seen the contents. What she saw inside the trunk brought a gasp of disbelief.

Hearing the gasp, McGill moved to join Margaret behind the car. "What?"

Margaret said nothing. But her eyes never left the interior of the trunk.

"Well, well, well," Mitch's brother said slowly. "What have we here?" He reached into the trunk to lift out and display in front of Beth and Caroline a beautiful red dress with spaghetti straps and a short, full skirt. He handed the dress to Margaret, who took it, and then his hands went into the depths of the trunk again. A pale blue dress, slender and delicate as a flower.

Beth's gown.

She stole it herself? Margaret thought, her eyes on Officer McGill's hands. Why would she do that? And what is she doing with Stephanie's dress?

The hands dipped into the trunk again. This time when they came out, the dress was black. Liza's. Adrienne must not have noticed yet that it, too, was missing, or she would have said something.

Margaret was now holding all three dresses.

When the officer reached into the trunk again, the item he brought forth was much smaller. A headband in a vivid yellow print. "That's Stephanie's!" Margaret cried. ''Stephanie Markham's. She was wearing it the day of the picnic. We all thought it came off and blew out to sea when she fell, but there it is! And," waving the clothing in her arms, "this red dress is the prom dress my mother told you about. It was stolen from the store, remember? All three of these dresses are from the store and here they are, in . . ." Margaret looked up at Beth standing beside the trunk, her face bone-white "... in Beth's trunk," she finished lamely.

"What else is in there?" Caroline asked, coming up behind Margaret.

"Well, there's this," the officer said, holding up a large plastic bottle with a red label. "Insecticide." He turned to Beth. "Now why would someone be carrying a bottle of insecticide around in their car trunk, unless they're in the gardening business. Which I don't think you are, miss, am I right?"

"I . . . I . . ." Beth looked very iU.

"And here," Eddie McGill said, replacing the insecticide bottle and reaching into the trunk again, "we have what I suspect might be the money missing from Toomey High School."

This time, he held up a gray metal box, clearly labeled on the top Prom.

But he dropped it back into the trunk in time to catch Beth as her eyes closed and her knees folded like paper money, and she collapsed.

The officer caught her before she hit the ground.

of-factly, "by the time Adrienne works her magic on you, you'll be the prettiest girl at that dance."

"Where on earth have you been?" Adrienne greeted Margaret worriedly as she entered the shop. Caroline had the rest of the afternoon off. She had dropped off Margaret, promising to call later, and driven away. "Fve been frantic. I didn't expect you to be gone so long. The police just called. They've found Beth. It's all over, Margaret." Relief coated Adrienne's words, and her normal color had returned. "That poor child is responsible for the horrible things that have been going on in town. Her mother must just be distraught."

Margaret explained, to Adrienne's horror, her involvement in Beth's being taken away for questioning. "I thought it was Lucas," she admitted. "It's hard to believe Beth is strong enough to toss me into that Dumpster."

Adrienne looked unhappy. Of all the silent partners, she liked Beth's mother best. "Strength of a madman, I guess. Isn't that what they say? On the other hand, Margaret, we don't have any real proof that Beth did those things. Maybe she didn't. We should wait and see."

"Mo-om! I saw the stuff in her trunk! It was

all there. Car trunks lock automatically. You need a key to open them. Beth had a key. End of story."

"They didn't take her to the police station," Adrienne said, locking the front door and turned the sign to read closed. "She's in the hospital right now, under police guard. She'll stay there until they know she's okay." She moved to the rear of the store, to the cash register. "Is that why you were gone so long? Because of the accident?"

Margaret confessed then, that they hadn't gone to run errands. That they'd left the store to look for Beth. "It took us forever to find the right salon."

Adrienne looked up from the register, a puzzled crease furrowing her brow. "I don't understand. Caroline knew where Beth was. I told her."

Margaret leaned against the counter, facing her mother. "No, you didn't. Remember, you didn't know. You said you called the house -- "

Adrienne interrupted her. "That was the first time I called. The housekeeper answered. But after you went upstairs, I called again, and this time Beth's mother answered. I didn't tell her why I was calling, because I didn't want to alarm her. I simply said that you needed to

see Beth about something, and she told me where Beth was. Then I went to the rest room and told Caroline. I wanted you to know that Beth had been located. I thought it would set your mind at rest. The door was halfway open, so I called out the name of the salon. I know she heard me, because she said, 'Okay, thanks.' She was putting her contacts in. Then I called the police again and gave them the name of the salon."

"You mean she was taking them out.'' Caroline had known all along where Beth was? Then why had they gone on that stupid wild goose chase all over East Toomey?

"No. She was putting them in. I have contacts myself, Margaret. I know the difference between putting them in and taking them out. Caroline was definitely putting hers in. I know she has trouble with them. I just assumed she'd taken them out to rinse them, maybe to make sure they'd be okay while she was driving."

"But she said ..."

"Margaret, what's the matter? You have a very strange look on your face."

"Nothing." Margaret's mind reeled dizzily. She had to think, hnpossible to think now. Too bewildered. Why would Caroline lie? "Is Scott working today?"

"No. I didn^t need him. Why?"

"I have to talk to him. FU go up to the Sweatbox and call him. Are you leaving now?"

"No, you and I are leaving together tonight. Maybe Beth did those things and maybe she didn't, but Fm not taking any chances. Fll take you home and then meet Sam at the restaurant. As soon as youVe called Scott, we'll go."

Good thinking, Margaret thought heavily as she hurried up the narrow staircase. Better to be safe than sorry. Especially since, after what her mother had told her, there was a chance that Beth was as innocent as a newborn baby.

Caroline had lied. She had known the name of the salon all along, and she was wearing her contacts. Had she hit Beth's car on purpose? Did she already know what was in the trunk? Had she guessed correctly that slamming into the Acura would pop the lid? She had to know the accident would bring the police. And they would see the evidence in the trunk. Then Beth would be taken away.

There was only one way Caroline could possibly have known what was inside Beth Andrews' trunk. She could only have known if she had put the things there herself.

Margaret had no idea how Caroline could have done that. Stolen Beth's keys, maybe,

made copies, and then returned them.

The depressing truth was, it made far more sense that the attacker be someone like Caroline, who had never been invited to a prom, including this one, than someone like Beth, who only wanted to be queen.

Mai*garet dialed Scott's number. How could your best friend be completely insane without you knowing it? But Caroline herself had explained that, hadn't she? "The people you would least suspect," she had said.

Scott answered. "The night the dresses were stolen and destroyed,'' she said bluntly. "What time did Caroline get to the library?"

The answer he gave was not the one she wanted to hear. "We were supposed to study together. But Caroline didn't get there until ten or fifteen minutes before the library closed. Then you showed up. Luckily, I'd done enough studying before she got there."

"She didn't get there until right before the library closed?"

"Nope. Said she had to go home and take her contacts out. Couldn't study with them in. Had to get her glasses."

The contacts again. So convenient. "Was she wearing her glasses when she got there?"

"Yeah, I think so. If she hadn't been, I would have said something about it. I was ticked that

she was so late. So I think she was. Why?"

Margaret couldn't teU him. He'd find out soon enough anyway, and he'd be crushed. The girl he adored. Who might be very ill. If nothing else, she'd been lying like crazy lately. Crazy . . . was Caroline really insane? Was that why she'd been doing so much reading about mental illness, because she was afraid she had it? "People you would least suspect." Well, that certainly included Caroline.

Caroline had been moved around a lot as a child. For the first nine years, she had never stayed in one place more than a year. Had never made any fiiends, had no roots, no stability in her life until she'd moved to Toomey and met Jeannine and Lacey and Margaret. Could all that instability make someone mentally ill? And could they really hide it all that time?

So disturbed by her thoughts that her hands and knees were shaking, Margaret went back downstairs. "Why don't you go ahead and meet Sam?" she said to her mother. "I'll close. Like you said, Beth's safely in the hospital, under police guard. Nothing can happen tonight. And" -- grabbing at the first garment she saw, which happened to be pink, a color she loathed -- "I want this blouse to wear, but I'll need to press the wrinkles out of it. I'll do

it upstairs, so I can change before Mitch gets here. Go on. Fll be fine, I promise.'' She needed to be alone, to think.

'Tou hate pink." Her mother peered over the cash register at her. "Margaret, has something else happened? Something I don't know about? You would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would. I think it's all catching up with me, that's all. I need to get out with Mitch and have some fun, and I need this blouse, too. So, can I close?"