"Piper, this is Vicki Cole."
"Hi, Vicki," Piper said with little enthusiasm.
"Hello."
"Piper is from—"
"I know all about your friend, Ben," Vicki said. She raised a brow. "She's the girl who stuffs five-dollar bills into the jars of our competitors."
Piper smiled.
"I think Chip and Bunny make a great team."
"Ben and I make a great team too. In fact, we made a great team for several months," Vicki said. She smiled at her former beau. "Isn't that right?"
Ben squirmed.
"Let's talk about something else."
Vicki smirked.
"Let's do. Let's talk about your friend," Vicki said. She looked at Piper. "I hear that you live in a motel with your sister. Is that true?"
Piper felt her anger rise.
"It is."
"That's awfully convenient."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Of course you do," Vicki said. "Unlike every other girl in this school, you can do what you please, when you please, and with whom you please."
Each person present reacted to the comment differently. Ben glared at Vicki. The other boys looked away. Sally turned white and stepped back. She clearly wanted no part of this.
"You're right, Vicki. I can do all of those things and more," Piper said. She took Ben's arm and smiled. "I can – and I do."
Vicki fumed.
"Let's go, Bill. I need some air."
Vicki seized Bill's hand and led him away from Ben, Wayne, Sally, and the promiscuous girl from Germany. The two marched toward an exit and disappeared though a door.
"I'm sorry about that," Ben said. "She's still sore about our breakup."
Piper sighed.
"I never would have guessed."
Sally stepped forward and put a hand on Piper's arm.
"I didn't tell her a thing. I mean it."
"I know," Piper said. "You're not the kind to gossip."
"Just ignore her," Ben said.
"I will. I won't give her a second thought."
Piper knew that was not true. She would think about Vicki Cole the rest of the weekend. She had needlessly provoked a powerful enemy and would have to live with the fallout.
"Are you all right?" Ben asked.
"I'm all right," Piper said.
She looked at Ben thoughtfully, turned away, and once again surveyed her surroundings. She glanced at the stage just as the band, dressed in white blazers, started a new set by playing "At the Hop." Within seconds, dozens of couples put down their punch cups, returned to the front of the gym, and started moving and swinging to a song made popular by Danny and the Juniors.
"What do you want to do now?" Ben asked.
The new girl smiled.
"I want to do what we came here to do," Piper said. She took Ben's hand. "I want to dance."
CHAPTER 21: MARK
Los Angeles, California – Sunday, March 29, 1959
Mark filled two ceramic mugs with steaming coffee from the percolator, stared out the kitchen window, and returned to the small dining table a few feet away. He offered Ben a mug.
"Here you go," Mark said.
Ben accepted the offering.
"Thanks."
Mark pulled out a chair, took a seat, and pushed the morning paper aside. He took a sip of the strong brew, sighed, and looked across the table.
"You got in late last night."
Ben returned his brother's gaze.
"My date didn't have a curfew."
"Does that mean you had a good time?" Mark asked.
"I had a good time," Ben said. "I'm not sure Piper did."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean when I kissed her good night, she just sat there. She just sat in the front seat of the car and didn't move. It was awkward, to say the least."
"Maybe she's old-fashioned. Maybe she doesn't like to kiss on the first date. Maybe she just wants to be friends," Mark said. He smiled. "Not everyone succumbs to your charms."
Ben laughed.
"I guess not."
"Did she even talk to you?" Mark asked.
"Oh, she did. She did a lot. That's the thing," Ben said. "She sent me positive signals all night – or at least until I took her back to the motel. I don't know what to make of her."
Mark took a breath and sipped his coffee. He could relate to dating mysterious women. He had dated one for a week and didn't really know her any better than the day they had met.
"It doesn't matter," Mark said.
"Why do you say that?" Ben asked.
"I say it because Piper's a short-timer here. So is Mary Beth. None of this is real, Ben. In a few weeks, maybe sooner, the girls will go back to their time, we'll stay in ours, and we'll go back to doing the things we've always done."
"I suppose you're right."
"I know I'm right," Mark said. "I've thought of little else for days. The fun can't last."
Ben sipped his brew.
"You sound depressed."
Mark smiled sadly.
"I am. I really like Mary Beth. I've never met anyone like her."
"I feel the same about Piper," Ben said. "I'm smitten."
Mark laughed softly.
"I've never heard you say that about anyone."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
"I guess."
Ben looked at his brother.
"Mom is coming home today."
"I know," Mark said.
"What are you going to tell her?"
"What do you think I'm going to tell her?"
Ben laughed.
"I guess honesty is not always the best policy."
"It's not in this case," Mark said. "I don't know what I'm going to tell her. I just know I can't tell her the truth. She would have us both committed."
Ben smiled.
"She wouldn't do that. She would miss us too much."
Mark didn't doubt that. Donna Ryan lived for her sons. She would walk through a river of lava before committing them to an institution or sending them away.
Mark sipped more coffee and gazed at Ben. He noted his brother's quiet demeanor and wondered what was going through his mind.
"What do you plan to do today?"
"I'll probably wash the car and sleep," Ben said. "What about you?"
"I'm going to study," Mark said. "I skipped three classes last week and have some work to make up. Believe it or not, I still want to graduate."
Ben laughed.
"Imagine that."
Mark started to speak but stopped when he heard the front door open. He turned to his right and saw Donna step into the house, lower a small suitcase to the floor of the entry, and proceed down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Mark got out of his chair, a second ahead of Ben, and met his mother as she reached the doorway that connected the hallway to the kitchen. He gave her a hug.
"You're early," Mark said.
"That's because I left early," Donna said.
Ben hugged his mother.
"Hi, Mom."
"Good morning," Donna said. She stepped back and looked at her sons. "Have you had breakfast yet? I can make some if you haven't."
"I had some cereal an hour ago," Mark said.
Donna turned to Ben.
"How about you?"
"I'm not hungry," Ben said.
"Suit yourself," Donna said matter-of-factly. She looked around the spotless room. "Which one of you boys cleaned the kitchen?"
"Ben did," Mark said.
Mark laughed to himself. He had cleaned the kitchen on Saturday, shortly before taking Mary Beth to a movie, but he thought his slightly spurned brother needed a break.
"Well, I appreciate it," Donna said to Ben. "It's nice to come home to a clean house."
"Did you leave any bags in the car?" Mark asked.
Donna shook her head.
"I traveled light this time."
"OK."
Donna studied Mark for a
moment and then put a hand on his cheek.
"You look kind of sad. Are you all right?"
"I'm OK, Mom," Mark said.
"I hope so," Donna said. "I worry about you two when I leave you alone."
"You didn't have to worry. We managed just fine."
Donna smiled.
"That's good. Did you do anything interesting while I was gone?"
Mark looked at Ben and returned a knowing smile.
"No," Mark said. "We just studied and fended for ourselves in the kitchen. This was one of the most uneventful weeks of our lives."
CHAPTER 22: BEN
South Pasadena, California – Monday, March 30, 1959
Ben Ryan smiled as he approached the girl at the reference desk of the Midway High School library. He had not seen the striking blonde since Saturday night and wanted talk to her before moving on to the girl who did not care for good-night kisses.
"Hi, Sally," Ben said.
Sally Warner looked up from a stack of papers she was sorting.
"Hi, Ben."
"Can you talk?"
Sally, a student assistant, did not answer right away. She instead glanced at Delores Grant, the school librarian, and watched her for a moment as she checked in books at the other end of the long desk. She returned to Ben when a freshman girl approached the desk and asked Mrs. Grant for help.
"I can talk if we keep our voices down," Sally said.
"OK," Ben said.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"I think you know."
"Is this about Piper?" Sally asked.
"Yes, it's about Piper. I want to know if she said anything when you went to the girls' room Saturday night. I think she might be mad at me."
"She's not mad at you."
Ben glanced at Mrs. Grant and saw that she had finished helping the freshman. He returned to Sally when the librarian went back to her books.
"How do you know she's not mad?" Ben asked.
"I just know. Girls don't say nice things about boys when they are mad at them."
"She said nice things about me?"
Sally nodded.
"She said several nice things. She said she misjudged you."
Ben took a moment to process the information. If nothing else, he was happy to learn that Piper McIntire, the girl who kept him awake at night, didn't think he was a bore or a jerk.
"That's good to hear," Ben said.
Sally returned to her papers.
"Why are you worried? I thought you two had a nice time."
"I thought so too," Ben said. "It's just that our date ended on a sour note."
"Oh?" Sally asked. "How so?"
"I don't know. She just—"
Ben stopped when a tall person entered his field of vision. He turned his head and watched with interest as the person, a well-dressed middle-aged man with a deformed ear, carried a short stack of yearbooks to the reference desk and handed them to the librarian.
"Did you find what you're looking for?" Mrs. Grant asked.
The man shook his head.
"I didn't. Do you have more yearbooks?"
"No. That's it," Mrs. Grant said. "This school is just four years old."
"I see."
"Are you looking for a person, Agent Richards?"
Agent Richards?
The man nodded.
"I'm looking for a young woman."
"What's her name?" Mrs. Grant asked. "Perhaps I can help."
The man hesitated.
"I believe her name is Colleen Finley, but I don't know for sure. I know only that she visited Las Vegas two weekends ago with a male of similar age and left town in an Edsel bearing California plates and a MAULERS BOOSTER bumper sticker."
Ben gave the man his full attention. He had no doubt that the woman he sought was the woman he knew as Mary Beth McIntire.
"What does she look like?" Mrs. Grant asked.
The agent paused again before answering.
"The man she victimized described her as a slim, pretty brunette of medium height. He guessed her age to be twenty to twenty-two. That's why I wanted to see your yearbooks. We believe she or her male companion graduated from this school a few years ago."
The librarian rubbed her chin.
"I don't know what to tell you. Dozens of former students fit that description. Can you offer more details?"
Agent Richards nodded.
"There is one more thing."
"What's that?"
"Miss Finley spoke with a southern accent and may have come to this area from Huntsville, Alabama. Can you think of a girl who came here from the South?"
Mrs. Grant shook her head.
"I remember some students from Nevada, Arizona, and even two from New York, but I don't recall any from the South. The only new student this year is a girl from Germany."
The man frowned.
"I see."
Ben felt his stomach twist when Mrs. Grant looked around the mostly empty room. He felt it drop when the librarian turned to her right and zeroed in on the students at the end of the desk.
"Perhaps one of you can help," Mrs. Grant said. "Ben and Sally, this is Special Agent Trent Richards of the FBI. He's trying to find a slim brunette who committed a crime in Las Vegas this month. He believes the woman attended Midway a few years ago and may have come here from Huntsville, Alabama. Can either of you think of a person who fits that description."
Sally looked at Ben, sighed, and then returned to her supervisor.
"I can't think of anyone in particular, but then I'm probably not the best person to ask. I didn't know many juniors and seniors as an underclassman."
"How about you, Ben?"
"I'm the same way, Mrs. Grant. I'm drawing a blank."
The librarian frowned.
"Well, thank you, anyway."
Ben nodded. He relaxed when Mrs. Grant turned away and grimaced when Agent Richards studied him closely. He did not care for the intense scrutiny.
The librarian resumed her conversation with the visitor.
"Have you met with Principal Raines?"
"I have," Agent Richards said. "He sent me here."
"Then I'm afraid I can't help you more," Mrs. Grant said. "I'm sorry."
The lawman smiled.
"That's all right, ma'am. You've been very helpful. I'll show myself out."
Ben watched the FBI agent walk across the room and disappear through a door. He did not know what to make of the odd exchange, but he did know one thing. The authorities wanted Mary Beth and maybe Mark for reasons that were as clear as a desert sky.
Ben wanted to speak to Sally and clarify a few things, but he knew he couldn't say a word with others around. So he waited for a break. He got that break a few minutes later when the librarian stamped the last of her books, put them on a cart, and turned to her student assistant.
"I have to leave for a minute," Mrs. Grant said. "Can you watch the desk?"
Sally nodded.
"I can handle things."
"Thank you."
Ben watched Mrs. Grant closely as she turned around, pushed her cart against the wall, and headed for the door. He waited until she exited the room and then returned his attention to Sally. When he did, he saw a classmate with a pale face and troubled eyes.
"I know what you're thinking," Ben said. "You're thinking that Piper lived in Huntsville and has an older sister who looks just like her. You're thinking that one or both of them might be criminals. Well, I can tell you, unequivocally, they are not. Mark and I spent that entire weekend with them. They even have a different last name. The Alabama connection is nothing more than a crazy coincidence."
Sally sighed.
"That's a relief. That's a big relief."
"Don't tell anyone about this," Ben said. "I don't want Piper to hear a rumor that the FBI is looking for someone from the South. She'll just worry over nothing."
"I won't say a thing," Sally said.
"Thanks."
Ben took a deep breath
and relaxed. He finally had time to digest the past ten minutes. He had time to think about what he would say to Mark, Mary Beth, and Piper.
The peaceful moment did not last long. Five minutes after Mrs. Grant put away her books, asked Sally to watch the desk, and left the room, she returned. She reentered the library with Principal Warren Raines, Vice Principal Dale Thompson, and a look of panic on her face.
"He stood right there," Mrs. Grant said. "We spoke for several minutes. Ben and Sally saw him too. They can probably give you an accurate description."
The principal stepped toward Ben and Sally.
"Is that true?" Raines asked. "Did you see the man who spoke to Mrs. Grant?"
Sally nodded nervously.
"Ben?"
"I saw him," Ben said. "What's going on, Mr. Raines? The FBI agent said he met with you. He said you sent him to the library to talk to Mrs. Grant."
The principal sighed.
"I didn't meet anyone, Ben. I didn't send anyone to the library," Raines said. He fixed his gaze. "The man you saw was not an agent. The man you saw was an imposter."
CHAPTER 23: MARY BETH
Pasadena, California – Tuesday, March 31, 1959
Mary Beth stared at Ben and repeated the question.
"Are you sure? Are you sure about his ear?"
"I'm positive," Ben said. "It looked like a stub."
Mary Beth closed her eyes and slumped in her bright red booth seat. She could no longer deny the obvious. Someone in Southern California wanted to find her and perhaps harm her.
"I feel sick."
Mark reached across the table for four, one of a dozen in Dino's Diner, and took Mary Beth's hands. He held them until she finally met his gaze.
"What do you want to do?" Mark asked.
"I don't know," Mary Beth said. "I need time to think."
"Why would he look for you?" Piper asked. "Even if he found you, he couldn't prove you did anything but make a legal bet. You didn't bribe a player to miss a shot. You put money on a game two thousand miles away. He can't prove you cheated."
Mark tapped his fingers on the table.
"Maybe that's not what he wants to do."
"What do you mean?" Ben asked.
"I mean the 'FBI agent' is not the man we cheated," Mark said. "He's not the man who paid us two thousand dollars. He was a bystander."
"What are you getting at?"
"I think he wants the book. That's the only thing that makes sense. He's not after two thousand. He's after two million. He wants a sports guide that's potentially priceless."
Class of '59 (American Journey Book 4) Page 10
