Prom Date (18 page)

Adrienne hesitated. "Isn't Mitch picking you up at the house? I told you to tell him I wasn't leaving you here alone tonight, that he should go there instead of here."

"I'll call him and tell him there's been a change in plans."

"Fine. But I'm calling the hospital first to make sure Beth is still under police guard." Which she did. She nodded as she hung up. "She is. I guess that means the poHce still think she's the one. She must be very, very ill. Well, all right then, honey, I guess you can lock up. If you're sure ..."

"Really, Mom, it'll be fine. Now, I've got to go iron this blouse. I'll pay for it on payday, okay? Here are the tags." If her mother noticed Margaret's trembling hands as she placed the tags on the counter, she said nothing.

"All right," Adrienne said with some reluctance. "But m just be across the alley at the restaurant if you need anything, anything at all. Margaret?"

But Margaret was already on her way upstairs.

Her mother came to the foot of the stairs just once, to call a good-bye, "You be sure and call Mitch, okay, and tell him you're here?"

"Right. Have fun!" But Margaret had no | intention of calling Mitch. Not yet. She began ironing the pink blouse.

As soon as she heard the door slam after her mother, she placed the iron on its heel on the ironing board and went to the telephone.

She sank into a leather chair beside the open || window and, with trembling hands, dialed Caroline LaSalle's number. ,,

f

all have been a waste of time. Meeting her at the mall to pick up the prom candles, offering to take the boxes out to her car, borrowing her car keys, then moving the dresses and all that other stuff from my trunk to hers, planning it so carefully. All of it for nothing.

It's hilarious, when you stop and think about it. I made that anonymous call to the police, telling them to search Beth's car, and then bang! the accident happens and the trunk pops open and that officer comes along just in time to see a trunk full of incriminating evidence. Perfect! A sign that all of this was meant to be.

Anyway, when this is over and Fm dancing in Mitch's arms, someone else has to take the rap, and Beth is perfect. At this point, I think she's not even sure she didn't kill Stephanie. Beth is so easily rattled.

I haven't felt this good since the night I sneaked up that fire escape and did a number on those stupid prom dresses. Driving over them felt so satisfying. I think that's when I made up my mind that I would go, no matter what. But it wasn't until Stephanie died that I figured out how.

Stealing the replacement dresses was a piece of cake. Nice of Adrienne to leave a key ring right there by the cash register. No one even noticed they were gone when I slipped them into

my jacket pocket and ran down the street to have copies made. Put them right back, easy as pie, a few minutes later. Then I could go in and out of the store any time I wanted. Still can.

We took an oath, the four of us. We were supposed to stick together, thafs what we promised each other. We always spent prom night together. But that wasn't going to happen this year, was it? Margaret was going to ruin the whole thing. Every other year it happened the way it was supposed to. But not this year.

I know it can never be the same again. I've accepted that. Even with Margaret out of the picture, ifs too late now. It won't be the same.

But at least I'll have what I want. And wasn't that the goal all along?

I will have to take Beth with me when I deal with Margaret. No choice there.

How am I going to get rid of the cop guarding her?

I'll think of something.

Nothing's going to stop me now.

that I need them. I hit Beth's car because you shrieked at me and I panicked and misjudged the distance between her car and mine. I didn't have them in. Why would I lie about that?'*

"But Mom said --"

"Your mother's right," Caroline interrupted. "When she saw me in the rest room, I was putting them in. But they started driving me crazy again, so I took them right back out. In fact, they're on the sink in the store's rest room because I forgot to stick them in my purse. They should still be sitting there. If I'd had them with me, Margaret, I'd have stuck them in before that police officer got there." Caroline's voice cooled. "If you're at the store, go look in the rest room."

Margaret didn't need to. She knew Caroline was telling the truth. The accident had been just that, nothing more. And Caroline LaSalle wasn't any more insane than Margaret Dunne was.

^What I want to know," Caroline continued, "is what's going on here? Why the third degree? You didn't find my car trunk full of souvenirs, did you?" When Margaret remained mute, squirming uncomfortably in her chair, Caroline said softly, "Oh, Margaret. This doesn't mean what I think it means, does it? You thought that I ... "

"No, no," Margaret said hastily, feeling her cheeks burning. "Not really. I know you'd never hurt me, Caroline. It was just. . . well, Mom said you knew about the salon, and she said you had your contacts in, and none of it made sense, so I just thought Fd call and find out, that's all.''

"Are you at the store?" Caroline asked sharply.

"Yes."

"Fm coming over there. Do not go anywhere!" Click.

Oh, man, Margaret thought despondently, how am I ever going to make this up to her? She knows I suspected her. She's never going to forgive me.

Caroline lived on the other side of town. It would take her a while to get to the store. Maybe I'll think of something, Margaret told herself anxiously, turning on her stereo. Something to make my best friend forgive me for thinking the unthinkable about her.

The blouse she had just ironed slid to the floor.

Margaret was bending to pick it up when a pair of feet in blue flats appeared in front of her eyes. Her head shot up.

Beth was standing over her, her face pale and strained, her eyes wide. She was wearing

a long, tan trenchcoat, and Margaret could see that her hands were trembling.

Margaret stood up. "How did you get in here?"

"A key," Beth whispered, standing perfectly still. "She has a key."

"Hello, Margaret," Liza Buffet said then, moving out of the shadowed staircase to stand beside Beth, smiling. "What are you up to, all alone in this hot little room? Ironing your prom dress?" Still smiling, she shook her head. "Not necessary, Margaret. You won't be going."

Margaret stared at Beth. "Beth?"

Beth burst into tears. There was an ugly, quarter-sized bruise on her forehead from the accident. "She made me come, Margaret! She got rid of the police officer, I don't know how, made me put this raincoat on over my hospital gown, and dragged me over here. She's . . . she's crazy, Margaret! She killed Stephanie and attacked you and Kiki and now ..."

"Shut up!" Liza said coldly.

"I don't get it ... " Margaret began, but in the next second, Liza had her arm in a tight grip, Beth's arm in another grip, and was dragging both of them to the long, narrow, open window leading to the fire escape.

"Beth is going to push you, Margaret," Liza said matter-of-factly, "and then she's going to

jump because she is overwhelmed with guilt." She shook her head again, mournfully this time. "Such a tragedy. So sad, too bad, but . . . can't be helped."

Margaret was strong and, except for her stiff knee, healthy. But Liza, just as Adrienne had said, had the strength of madness and her fingers held on like giant pliers. She pushed both girls through the window at the same time, and then joined them on the fire escape, never letting go for an instant.

Below them, a car door slammed, then another. Two people got out of one car, a lone driver from the second car. The driver called out to the pair. Margaret recognized the voice. It was Mitch's. Her knees caved with relief. Adrienne must have told him to pick her up here. Thank God!

She would have called out to him then, if Liza hadn't sucked in her breath, muttered, "Damn!" and said through her teeth, "Make one sound and you die this very second, do you understand?"

Margaret clamped her lips together. But at least he was down there. She felt a little less alone. Even ii he did happen to look up, would he be able to see what was going on?

"Hey, Brandon," Mitch called, "didn't know you were back in town."

Brandon? Liza's brother! Right down there in the courtyard, unaware that above him stood his sister, preparing to kill two people. "Got in last night. Took my last final on Wednesday. Great to have that over with. So, what are you doing out here in the dark?"

Their voices lowered, and Margaret had to strain to hear. But she picked up bits and pieces. The boy with Brandon was from his school, someone named ''Greg."

Margaret heard Mitch say, "So, you're here in Toomey to take Liza to the prom, right?"

Brandon's friend laughed. "Me? Are you kidding? Tm here to visit a girl I met through Brandon, and trust me, it's not his sister. I was her prom date last year. Never again! And believe me, no one else from our school will be taking her, either. I spread the word. That girl is a loose cannon. Something seriously out of whack there, take my word for it."

Liza's own brother agreed. "Not her fault though. She's always had every single thing she ever wanted. Never learned how to deal with life not going exactly the way she wants it to. She has no concept of that at all."

Mitch said to Brandon, "I guess I got it wrong. Thought she was going with you. She asked me, just a few days ago." He uttered a short laugh. "At a funeral, actually. I thought

that was pretty weird. Had to tell her no, I was going with someone else. When I talked to her the next day, she said she was going with a firiend of her brother's. I thought she said his name was Greg."

Margaret turned to stare at Liza. Liza had asked Mitch? At the funeral?

She remembered, then, the look of stupified shock on Liza's face at the cemetery. That hadn't been because of Stephanie. It was because she couldn't believe that Mitch had refused to be her prom date.

Liza's mouth was grim, her eyes narrowed. She stared back at Margaret as if daring her to say what she was thinking.

Margaret took the dare. Looking Liza fiill in the face, she said slowly, her words tinged with awe, "You don't have a date for the prom, do you?"

I can't tell the players without a scorecard-The thing is, Mitch, the last I heard, she was going with you. Told me that herself. You're telling me that's not true? You're taking someone else?"

Margaret held her breath.

"I am definitely taking someone else. I'm here to pick her up, as a matter of fact. She works over there." Margaret saw Mitch point toward the store.

"I locked the door and turned off the downstairs lights," Liza whispered in her ear. "He can't get in. When he goes around to the front and Brandon goes into the restaurant, you two are history. In the meantime, back inside you girls go. I can't have them seeing you."

Liza dragged them both over the windowsill. Beth tumbled to the floor. Margaret staggered over to lean against the wall next to the ironing board, careful to keep it between her and Liza. Stall, she told herself, stall! Mitch won't give up when he finds the door locked. He won't!

But she wasn't that sure. Maybe he'd think they'd got their signals crossed and, after a while, would return to her house.

That couldn't happen. If it did, she and Beth were done for.

"You don't have a date?" Margaret repeated, keeping her eyes on Liza, dreading

any sudden moves on Liza's part.

Liza reached down to lift a pair of scissors off one of the shelves, slowly, as if she were in no hurry. "Of course I do. You heard Brandon. Fm going with Mitch."

"She's crazy!" Beth cried softly from where she lay on the floor below the window. "She killed Stephanie and attacked you and Kiki and tried to frame me for it, all because she didn't have a date. No one asked her!" Beth's upper lip curled with scorn. "No one wanted to take her."

Liza regarded her calmly. "That's not true. They all wanted to. But they all assumed I'd already been asked. Because I've always gone to the prom. Every prom since I was a freshman. Three seniors asked me when I was only in ninth grade," she added proudly. |[ "Yeah, but not this time," Beth said harshly. "When you realized what was happening, you freaked. And killed Stephanie so you could go with Michael."

"That is not what happened." Liza's voice remained calm. "She just fell, that's all. And what you don't know, Miss Smartypants, is that I thought I was going. Until it was too late. Almost too late. I thought Michael was taking me."

Beth's eyes widened. "Michael.^ Michael

Danz? But he ... " Enlightenment dawned. "You? That v^disyou, stabbing Stephanie in the back with Michael?" She sat up, accusing eyes on Liza. "But you were her best friend!"

Liza waved the scissors idly back and forth. "Best . .. west . . . nest . . . test . . . crest ..." she murmured lazily.

Beth and Margaret exchanged anxious glances.

"... pest!" Liza finished triumphantly. "I thought it was only fair that Michael keep his word to me. But Stephanie refused to let him take me. Then she fell." Her eyes took on a dreamy look, and she continued to wave the scissors back and forth m firont of her. "It wouldn't have been right for me to help her when she'd refused to help me by doing what was right. Michael promised me. " She looked at Margaret with innocent eyes. "Shouldn't Steph have seen to it that he kept his word?"

"Yes," Margaret said sympathetically, "he should have, Liza." Then, "Why did you leave the Quartet pins on the deck and under Kiki? What was that for? You didn't leave one at the Dumpster."

"Well, of course not, Margaret. You were never a part of our little group. Just Stephanie and Kiki, Beth and L We were our own solid little quartet. At least," Liza added bitterly, "I

thought we were. I left the pins there to remind them of a pact we made once, a long time ago. Leaving one at the Dumpster would have been silly, because you weren't one of us."

When neither girl said anything, Liza went on without emotion, "I never meant to hurt Stephanie, really. She was ignoring Michael, so busy with all of her activities, and he came to me one night to cry on my shoulder. One thing led to another and, well, no one else had asked me to the prom because they all thought Fd already been invited and Michael said he would break his date with Steph and take me, so I kept seeing him. "But," her voice hardened, "he didn't do it. He didn't tell her. So I had to." She stopped waving the scissors. "She didn't take it very weU."