by Gina LaManna
This couldn’t be possible. Was I witnessing Meg’s first walk of shame? It wasn’t that Meg hadn’t snuck out of a boy’s house before, but when she did, she was all-confident. There was no “walk of shame” involved. Instead, Meg had invented the “stride of pride.”
But now, she walked hunched over with Clay’s hoodie sweatshirt pulled over her head. This was a walk of shame if I’d ever seen one; I should know. I’d been there. We all had.
But in my gawking at Meg, I forgot about one little thing. A sort of important little thing that I liked to call controlling the gas pedal. The Lumina lurched forward five inches instead of one, taking the van right along with it. There was a screech of metal, a clatter that might’ve been my head bouncing against the steering wheel, and then a deafening silence.
Pulling my head out of the dashboard, I peeked out the window, guilt painted across my face. Meg was waiting for me, her stare just as guilty. We stayed like that for a moment, she standing above the artwork on my front steps like a deer frozen in headlights, me sitting in a car currently wedged up the tail end of her boyfriend’s van. Or slumber-buddy. Or whatever label they’d chosen to go with for the day.
Finally, Meg tossed back the hood of her sweatshirt and marched down the steps. She stuck that confident chin of hers high in the air and began whistling a tune that sounded like Barney’s I love you, you love me. Then again, Meg’s whistling game was hardly on point, and the tune was more like a shaky bicycle wheel that sometimes squeaked and sometimes squealed.
She continued marching right on down the sidewalk while my hands grew a little sweaty over the wheel. Meg pulled my car door open, and I could see the sheepish blush of color behind her confident expression.
She nodded towards the front of the van. “Can you get us out of there and escape?”
I glanced forward, then backward, then gave a nod. “Pretty sure.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Meg raised an eyebrow.
“Hop on in, partner.”
Meg climbed onto the seat as I screeched the car out of Clay’s van. He loved to fix things anyway.
She cracked her knuckles. “So, where to?”
CHAPTER 30
After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I got up the guts to talk again. I’d been a little busy imagining Clay’s anger at the dent in his ‘baby.’ “So are you two a thing, now?”
“Why do we have to define anything?” she asked. “If we’re talking about specifics here, I’d say you specifically crashed your cousin’s car.”
“Well, if you’re sleeping over, don’t you think it’s a good idea to talk about where the relationship is heading?” I glanced over at Meg as we cruised towards Nicky’s house. The sun was barely peeking out from the horizon, and normally, neither of us would be up at this hour. But extenuating circumstances called for desperate measures.
“First of all, that’s exactly it. We were just sleeping.”
I flicked on a blinker and turned around the block. “What do you mean?”
“I mean sleeping. How many definitions does that word have?”
I shrugged. “A lot. Were you taking a nap on the couch? Curled up in bed? Using the advice you tried to pawn off on me?”
“Now, if I meant any of those things, I would’ve just said them,” Meg said, rolling her eyes. “I meant exactly what I said. The night got late, and me and Clay were working on something. I ended up falling asleep. Not napping, not…doing the hanky-pank, just…sleeping. Like I said the first time.”
“I’m concerned.” I pulled onto Nicky’s street. “What were you and Clay working on together?”
Meg whisked a hand through her Hagrid-esque hair. “You’re more worried about the fact that I’m working on something with your cousin than the fact that I slept over?”
I shrugged. “As long as you and Clay keep your private stuff private, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think you guys are great together; you didn’t have to be all slinking out of the apartment this morning. You two are adults.”
“I wasn’t slinking.”
“You were slinking.”
Meg flipped her hair back. “That was a stride of pride.”
“Walk of shame.”
“Stride of pride.”
“I didn’t think you had anything to be striding with pride about.” I raised my eyebrows at her as I parked the car outside Nicky’s home. “I thought you were just sleeping.”
“Stop grilling me, girlfriend.” Meg opened the car door, moving quicker than I’d ever seen her move out of a vehicle. “Anyway, it’s your boyfriend who made me sleep over last night, so I don’t know why you’re razzin’ me so much.”
“Anthony?”
Meg nodded. “Unless you’re dating someone else on the side that you didn’t bother to tell me about.”
“Anthony made you sleep over at mine and Clay’s apartment?”
“Yeah, because the thing we were working on is his birthday present. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have had something to build.”
“What is it?” I grasped Meg’s shoulders and gave her a light shake. “I’m trustworthy. You can tell me.”
“You can’t keep a secret.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Not from Anthony,” Meg said. “And I want his present to be a surprise.”
“What is it?”
Meg shook her finger at me. “I know what you’re trying to do...you’re trying to get me to tell you the secret present.”
I blinked. “Yes. That’s exactly what I just asked.”
“Well, I’m not falling for that trick. Oldest one in the book.” Meg gave a confident shake of her head. “No way, no how. That’s a secret. Now, let’s get started. You promised me I could raid Nicky’s fridge if I helped you look around.”
“You can, just one last question.” I didn’t bother to tell Meg that if she raided Nicky’s fridge, the only thing she’d find was a stomachache waiting to happen.
“Fine, but hurry up. I hope he has some smoked salmon in the fridge. I can feel it. I want some smoked salmon.”
“Have you and Clay…” I trailed off. This whole situation was a bit weird; normally, I’d want Meg to give me the details of her relationship – the funny ones, the sexy ones, the serious ones – within reason. But now that Clay was the other party and not some stranger, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know all those details. So I settled somewhere in between. “Tell me honestly. Are you and Clay together?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Meg said. “You’re asking if we’ve consulated our relationship.”
“Um…”
“Well, we haven’t. We’re consulate free.”
“I hate to tell you, but it’s consummate,” I said. “Consulate is a government term.”
“I know what it means,” Meg said. “To look after the welfare of one’s citizens, and all that crap.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Exactly.”
“See? I am right, since I’m looking after Clay’s welfare.”
I scrunched up my face. “Don’t need more details.”
“Hey, you asked. I’m just defining words over here. Call me Webster.”
“Let’s just get going.”
“Let’s get going, Webster,” Meg said. “Call me Webster.”
“No.”
“Then I’m not coming.”
“Fine.” I stepped out of the car, ready to comb through Nicky’s place for any signs of the girls we might have missed yesterday. “C’mon, Webster, we’ve got work to do.”
CHAPTER 31
“I don’t know where else to look,” I said. “We’ve scoured every nook and cranny of this place.”
“Well, I didn’t scour the bathroom,” Meg said, coming into Nicky’s living room and plopping onto the couch next to me. “But then again I don’t even scour my own bathroom, so that’s not all too surprising.”
“Let me think.” I stood up, pacing back and forth in Nicky’s abandoned house. He was stil
l with Nora and Carlos, the former doing her best to keep him fed and bathed, the latter grilling him for more details at every opportunity.
By now, Meg and I had put in a full morning of investigating, thinking, and wondering, but neither of us had turned up a clue. Not us, not the police, not even Anthony’s team, who’d been working around the clock.
“How’s that thinking going?” Meg lay back on the couch. “I have dodged and ducked and I am pooped. I need a nap. Or food. What happened to that food you promised me?”
“I gave it to you.” I glanced over to make sure I wasn’t going crazy, but the wrappers to three bagel sandwiches sat clear as day in the garbage bin. Thank goodness I remembered there was a deli two blocks over, or else we’d be searching while hangry. Hangry and work did not go well together.
“That was today?” Meg shook her head. “Dang, I’m ravenous. Guess that’s what I get for working all night with Clay.”
“What were you working on?”
“The t—” Meg stopped, her eyes narrowing just before she spilled the beans. “Don’t you tempt me like that, you temptress, you. I’m gonna tell Anthony you’re a temptress.”
“If you just told me your secret, I wouldn’t have to tempt you.”
Meg stared at the ceiling. “I’m sensing something’s wrong with your logic, but I can’t put my finger on what. Give me a second.”
I paced a bit more, expanding my steps to the kitchen, the hallway, the bedroom, and then back to the living room where Meg was still deep in thought.
“So, are you going to tell me?” I asked. “There’s no reason not to.”
Meg flew into a sitting position. “It’s a secret, dammit. I can’t just tell you secrets all willy-nilly.”
“We’re best friends.” I shrugged. “Of course you can. Otherwise, what are best friends for?”
“There you go with all that logic again.” Meg sighed. “Forget it. I’m not saying anything until Clay’s here. He’ll be able to help me.”
I kept my smile hidden. “I’m sure.”
“Now, since my stomach has decided to dine on itself, I think I need to get some food and take a nap. Are you coming with me?”
“I drove here.” I crossed my arms. “How are you going to get anywhere?”
Meg tapped a little ditty on the coffee table with her knuckles. Then she looked up, a gleam in her eyes. “Didn’t Nora say she was gonna schedule a cooking class this week? Isn’t that today?”
I stopped short. “Oh, shoot. That’s in a few hours. I completely forgot about it with everything going on, and I bet Nora did, too. We’ll have to cancel it.”
“Maybe you should go,” Meg said. “You’re driving me nuts, here.”
“I’m…” I pointed to myself. “Driving you…” I pointed to her. “Nuts?”
“Bonkers,” Meg said. “You’ve checked everything here fifteen times. Whatever you’re looking for is not here. Plus, you’ve got everyone and their mom and their dad and their brother and their—”
“I get the picture.”
“You’ve got everyone in the Cities on the case, looking for those girls. You’re going crazy, and it’s driving me crazy, and frankly I think you could use the distraction.”
“Meg, no. That’s not an option.”
“Okay, let me put it like this. If the girls were kidnapped, don’t you think we’ll be hearing from their kidnapper soon enough? I mean, if the ‘napper is after money, we’ll know about it. They’ll find a way to get in touch, and ask for money.”
“I suppose,” I said. “But what if it’s not about a ransom?”
“Unless it’s completely random – which is highly unlikely – the kidnappers want something. And sooner or later, we’ll find out what it is.” Meg stared in my direction, a cool, calculating stare that made me wonder if she’d actually put her thinking cap on straight. “If the girls ran away themselves, then all that means is they’re good at hide and seek. They couldn’t have gone far; there’re alerts on every method of transportation in this state. If they’re on a train, plane, or automobile, we’ll find them. Speaking of, that should be a movie.”
“Well, either way, you’re right about being done here. We’ve checked everything, and I don’t know what else to do. You double check the phone to make sure there’re still no messages, and I’ll grab the mail like Nicky asked. We can regroup at Nora’s. Everyone’s there, anyway.”
“Except Clay,” Meg said. “I’m gonna invite Clay. Is that cool?”
“You’re inviting Clay to his family’s house?”
“I think I’m technically more like family to Carlos than Clay.” Meg stretched tall, her voice filled with pride. “After all, we’re basically BFFs.”
“Yeah, okay.” I headed towards the door. “That’s a good idea though, make sure he comes. I want to know if someone could’ve texted the girls’ phone from a computer.”
Meg headed into the kitchen while I jogged towards the end of the driveway. Nicky’s mailbox stood at a cockeyed angle, as if a fat squirrel had taken a flying leap and landed hard on top, tilting the whole thing sideways.
I reached for the box, wondering if Meg was right. Maybe I should take Nora to the class; she could probably use the distraction more than me. After all, she loved the girls even when they acted like devil-spawn. I could tolerate the girls, and that’s about as generous as I could go.
Flipping down the mailbox, I pulled out a stack of old bills. I ignored the first two, which contained alarming advertisements for enhancements that worked on body parts I didn’t possess. I put six overdue bills back into the mailbox and focused on the pressing fliers, which included a coupon for a free Frosty at the convenience store down the street. Other than the free beverage and a coupon for Victoria’s Secret that I slipped into my pocket, there was nothing here.
Closing the lid, disappointment sank in even though I hadn’t really expected to find anything. I started to trudge back up the driveway, but I stopped after a pace or two and turned around, looking back at a tiny piece of paper that’d caught my eye. It flapped in the wind, wedged between the top of the mailbox and the door. Even from a few paces away, I could see this page wasn’t like the other coupons. This one contained handwritten words.
Gently, I freed the loose-leaf sheet from mailbox jail. When I looked at the words on the page, the childish handwriting kick-started my heartbeat into high gear. I finally mustered my breath, calling for Meg to hurry over.
I’d like to say Meg ran outside. But running for Meg consisted of moving her feet at a very leisurely pace, all while trying to peel a banana. Where she’d found a banana was a question for a different time.
“What’d you find?” she asked, taking a bite. “This is a good banana, by the way.”
I held up the paper, my feet stuck in place on the snowy driveway.
Meg turned her pace from snail to turtle, and covered the remaining distance between us while I read the note one more time.
“It’s from the girls,” I said, handing her the sheet.
Her eyes moved back and forth, her lips moving along as she mouthed the words. “Lacey, this is good news.” She thrust the paper back towards me. “I think this is good news.”
“I’m not sure what sort of news it is,” I said. “But it’s news.”
Dear Dad.
Don’t worry about us. We are okay. We ran away with a friend. We love you. We will call you when we get there. Don’t worry about us.
Marissa and Clarissa
CHAPTER 32
“Where is there?” Meg asked, as I guided the Lumina through the gates of the estate. It took a good five minutes to get past the security guard, who had seen me at least nine hundred times in the past week alone.
“Does that look like little girl handwriting?” I peeked towards Meg’s lap where she had the note spread out across her legs. “It looks too neat. Doesn’t it look too neat?”
“I think it’s fine.” Meg bobbed her shoulders up and down. “Not everyo
ne writes in chicken scratch, like you.”
“Does it sound like something Marissa or Clarissa would say?” I pursed my lips. “It sounds too formal, doesn’t it?”
“You’re overthinking it. You’ve gotta take a step back, take a long, deep breath, and think. The girls are young, but they’re not stupid. They could’ve written this, and it could be their handwriting.”
“Could be…” I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel as I parked behind Carlos’s shiny black Bentley. “But what if it’s not?”
“Why don’t you just ask Nicky? He should know.”
“Fair.” I exhaled, gesturing for Meg to unlock the car door. “Let’s go.”
The biting cold snuck into the car the second I swung the door open. I zipped my jacket tighter, snatched the note from Meg’s lap, and tucked it into my pocket all in one motion. I didn’t wait for Meg to daintily slide out of the car and take her sweet time walking up the sidewalk; I was pounding for Harold to open the door before she’d taken two steps.
Harold greeted us with a smile, his hands clad in thick, fluffy yellow mittens. A gift from Nora, no doubt, since yellow wasn’t Harold’s color.
Meg huffed through a few minutes later. “Thanks for leaving me in the dust. Not.”
“No time to waste,” I said, hovering behind the butler to stay as far out of the wind as possible. “Harold, do you know where everyone is?”
Harold wrinkled his nose in warning. “Can your business wait?”
“It’s that bad?” I glanced past him down the hall, searching for signs of danger. But all looked quiet. Too quiet, maybe. “It’s urgent.”
“The living area, then,” Harold said. “Anthony’s with your grandparents.”
“He is? Why?” I swiveled my gaze towards Harold. “I thought he’d be out…doing something.”
“He’s a bit tied down,” Harold said, his words laced with caution. “Like I said, if your business isn’t urgent, I suggest you return later.”
“Oh, it’s urgent,” Meg said. “And it’s also urgent we swing by the kitchen on the way. If I don’t find some coffee or wine to warm myself up, I’m afraid my intestines might get frostbite.”
