Samantha Sanderson at the Movies

by Robin Caroll

  “They’re really gonna be all right?” Lana asked, tears rolling down her face.

  Sam hugged Lana harder.

  “The officer said that’s what the doctor told him. Their phones were turned off once they got in the emergency room, so that’s why they didn’t answer your calls. Your mom bugged the nurse to call the theater to get a message to you, but I guess it never made it.” He smiled and nodded at Sam. “Y’all buckle up and we’ll head to the hospital.”

  Sam gave Lana a final hug, then sat back and put her seatbelt on. One question burned in her mind: How were both of Lana’s parents in the same car accident?

  CHAPTER 17

  THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE DARK

  I’m just glad her parents were okay. I bet Lana was relieved to see them for herself,” Makayla said as they waited in line at the Playtime Pizza buffet. The rich smell of freshly baked pizza pulled them through the line. They’d been looking forward to this Saturday treat all week long. Playtime Pizza was one of the funnest places in Little Rock.

  Sam tapped her fork against the deep orange plastic plate. “She was. But get this: guess why her parents were in the car wreck together in the first place.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think about that.” Makayla slid a piece of cheese pizza onto her plate. “Give me a second to think.”

  Sam put two pieces of pepperoni pizza on her plate and followed Makayla down the buffet. She added some mac ‘n cheese. “Give up?”

  “No.” Makayla laid out a neat little salad beside her piece of pizza. “They’re going in together to buy Lana a really cool birthday present?”

  “Nope.” Sam headed to the drink station and drew herself a root beer. She waited for Makayla to get her water, then led the way to one of the tables in the front. But not too close to the center stage. She didn’t want to get roped into doing one of the group dances with the guy dressed up in the pizza dude “Pete Za” costume. It was kind of a creepy outfit. Sam had never liked it. Gave her the willies.

  “Then I don’t know. Wait, don’t tell me that Lana’s going to move?” Makayla asked. She sat down and prayed over their food, then took a bite of salad.

  “Nope. Give up yet?” Sam bit into the pizza and sighed as the warm cheese and tangy sauce blended into a moment of pure happiness for her.

  “Fine. Tell me.”

  Sam wiped her mouth and grinned. “They were going to a marriage counselor.”

  Makayla’s eyes widened as she hurried to swallow. “Her parents are getting back together?” She took a drink of her water.

  “From what they said, they’re going to try.” Sam took another big bite of pizza.

  “Wow. I bet Lana’s happy.”

  Sam nodded. “She is, but trying not to get her hopes up too high. She said that they’ve broken up and gotten back together before, only for it not to work out.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to pray that it works out for them this time.” Makayla, the eternal optimist.

  “Yep.” Sam finished off her pizza and mac ‘n cheese. She glanced over the tables and caught sight of Dad in the corner, his cell phone pressed to his ear. She turned back to Makayla. “Are you done yet?”

  “Almost.” She took another bite of pizza, chewed fast, then swallowed. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “Just ready to play some laser tag is all.” And she didn’t want Dad to get called in to work. If he did, he’d either make them leave or have Mrs. Ansley come stay with them, which was okay, but she’d bring Makayla’s little sister and tell Mac she had to take her sister around with them.

  “Fine.” Makayla took a last drink of her water before wiping her mouth and then standing. “Let’s go.”

  Sam waved at her dad. Then she and Makayla headed up the stairs to check in for laser tag. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to wait long for a game.

  They were in luck: the attendant told them he had three spots left open for the next game, which started in five minutes. They handed their cards to be scanned, then took their slip of paper printout with their player name and which laser pack number they were assigned. Sure enough, in about three minutes, the attendant called them into the entry room.

  Everyone took in how they looked in the black light, some giggling nervously at the eerie designs of some of the shirts they wore. Sam’s shoelaces glowed. That’s one thing she loved about this laser tag game — that it was played in black light. You could kind of see people, but not really clearly, which made the game more fun. Sam considered herself on the expert level.

  Sam glanced around the room as the laser tag worker gave instructions on how to put on the pack and fire the gun. Lots of parents with their kids were in this group. She grinned to herself in the dark . . . lots of easy targets. The little girl in pigtails with her mom would be first. Sam could tell they’d never played before. They’d be toast.

  The two boys with their mom would be next. Their mom couldn’t even keep up with them in the entry room, so there was no way she would manage in the laser tag room that was designed with corners, turns, ramps, fences, and all sorts of obstacles to hide or set up ambushes behind.

  Sam nodded to four guys she recognized as regulars. They’d be tracking both her and Makayla, ready to take them both out. They were really good at setting up ambushes. She’d walked into many of them.

  Finally the attendant let them into the pack room. She rushed to her pack station, twenty-eight, and put the harness on over her head. She settled the heavy piece in place and grabbed the attached gun. She pressed both triggers and activated herself into the game.

  She grinned at Makayla. Their strategy was always the same: split up, then hunt each other, taking out as many other players and racking up as many points as possible on the way. Their ongoing score stood with Sam in the lead by twenty-two points. Makayla held up one finger, indicating it was her turn to enter first. Sam nodded. She would have to wait at least ten seconds before entering the room to track Mac.

  The attendant opened the door, and Makayla slipped through with the first group of players. Sam held back, letting the parents and their little kids get inside. All the better to rack up her points.

  A man brushed by her, holding his son’s hand. “Excuse me,” he said.

  “It’s okay.” She smiled at the little boy of about six, then glanced at the man’s face to record it for points purposes.

  She froze as she made eye contact with none other than Bobby Milner, leader of the Arkansas Society of Freethinkers and the first bombing suspect she’d featured in her articles.

  He smiled and nodded, and she let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. He didn’t know who she was. Whew. She’d seen his picture on the radio station website, but none of the school reporters’ pictures were up on the blog. Mrs. Trees had said it was for their protection. Sam and the other kids had argued to get their pictures up, but Mrs. Trees had held firm.

  Sam was glad for that right about now.

  Bobby and his son crossed into the room. Sam was the last one through the door. She needed to find Makayla.

  The room was nearly pitch black, but the little colored lights on the vests glowed. So did the chalk designs drawn on the walls and ramps. And the special camouflage material draped over separators and fences and barrels. And some of the cutouts in the separators.

  Bobby and his son were just to the right behind the first separator. Sam knew because she could hear him, and she recognized his voice from the radio interview. Good place for them to hide because nobody came past this area.

  “Let me show you how we did it in real life,” he said to his son.

  “Did you do this kind of stuff in the Marines?” his son asked.

  Sam pressed against the opposite separator where they couldn’t see her, but she could hear them.

  “All the time,” Bobby answered his son. “Stay close to me and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  Bobby was in the Marines? Sam flattened herself against the makeshift wall, waitin
g until they passed. She waited until they turned to the right and headed down the ramp toward the fence and barrel area.

  One of the little kids she’d seen earlier ran out in front of her. Instinctively, she shot his vest. His lights flashed. Hit!

  He stared down at his chest, then looked at her. He started crying.

  Sheesh. She turned and took out his mom as she ran toward him. Sam kept going, lasering the other kid before squatting to move under the separator to the left.

  Bobby shot his laser beam on one of the older girls who’d entered at the same time as Makayla. The girl laughed, but Bobby took out her boyfriend as soon as he rounded the corner. The boyfriend wasn’t amused. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and led her around the ramp.

  Sam waited until Bobby moved on, then she took out the other girl.

  “Three minutes,” the voice warned over the speakers.

  She turned and followed around the corner where Bobby and his son had gone, then moved down the ramp. She could make out the lights on Bobby’s son’s vest. Sam smiled as she recognized where they were. Bobby was about to get taken out because he was heading to one of the regular’s favorite ambush setups.

  Holding back, Sam heard footsteps. She turned, laser on, locked in on the little girl with pigtails, and fired. The girl’s lights flashed. Sam shifted the laser beam on the girl’s mom and took her out, too. The mom smiled and directed her daughter down the opposite ramp.

  Not wanting to miss Bobby being ambushed, Sam hurried. She crouched and moved slowly . . . quietly. She made out Bobby’s stealthy motions. He held a finger to his lips as he looked at his son. His son nodded. Bobby leaned over and whispered something to his son. Sam was too far away to hear what.

  “Two minutes to go,” boomed from the speakers.

  Bobby jumped up, gun at the ready, and shot over the top of the separator. A reflection of vest lights flashed on the wall.

  He crouched again, peeked around the corner with his gun. The red laser beam split the darkness. Another reflection of vest lights flashed.

  One of the regulars charged down the ramp. Bobby’s son turned, the gun loose in his hands. The guy raised his gun and Bobby’s son’s vest lit up.

  “One minute until game over,” blasted through the darkness.

  Bobby slid to the ground, laying on his back, and shot the guy charging them, then rolled right and took out the last guy in the group.

  “Dude, you’re good,” one of the regulars commented.

  Bobby clapped the guy on his shoulder. “I have real-life experience in this, kid. I had to be good or I’d be dead.”

  “Really? That’s cool,” the guy said.

  “Not a whole lot is cool about shooting or bombing people, kid,” Bobby said.

  Sam gasped, then her vest vibrated and her lights flashed. She spun to see Makayla grinning at her. “Gotcha this time, sucker.”

  “Game over,” sounded. “Please return your packs to their stations.” The low lights came on.

  Vests vibrated. Sam checked her gun’s screen. Ranked eighteenth. Seriously? She hadn’t slipped lower than fifth in a long, long time. She couldn’t be bothered with that right now. She grabbed Makayla’s hand and pulled her back, letting the others go before them into the pack room.

  “Why are you acting crazy?” Makayla asked.

  “Shh,” Sam whispered. “See that guy right there? The one with the kid?” She pointed at Bobby.

  Makayla looked where she’d pointed. “Yeah?”

  “That’s Bobby Milner.”

  “From your article Bobby Milner?”

  Sam nodded. “It gets better.”

  The laser tag attendant waved at them.

  Sam hurried and removed the vest. She put it back on the rack, than grabbed Makayla’s hand and left. She saw Bobby lead his son down the hallway by the black light golf course. Sam all but pulled her best friend toward the corner on the opposite walkway where she could see Bobby’s every step.

  “Are you sure that’s him?” Makayla asked.

  “Positive. The radio station put his picture up on the site by the link for his interview. I remember thinking he was younger than I’d imagined.”

  Makayla’s gaze followed Bobby as he led his son down the stairs on the opposite side of the building.

  “I overheard him talking to his son, then some other guys,” Sam said. “He was in the Marines.”

  Makayla frowned. “So . . . he’s a hero?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. That isn’t important.” Sam pulled Makayla around the post so she could keep Bobby in her line of vision.

  “Then what is?”

  “I overheard him talking to the guys and he said he used to shoot and bomb people.” Sam’s heart raced just as it had when she’d heard him say it.

  “He said that?” Makayla looked down at Bobby, who was pulling his son onstage to do one of those silly group dances with the costumed Pete Za.

  Sam nodded as she watched Bobby make a horrible attempt at the chicken dance. Hard to believe that man down there who couldn’t move to the beat was a Marine who shot and bombed people. “He said that. Those were his exact words . . . bombing people.”

  Makayla didn’t say anything.

  “If he’s trained to make a bomb, that makes him a top suspect.”

  “I wonder if your dad knows,” Makayla said.

  “I’m sure he does.” But Sam wouldn’t say anything about this to Dad. He’d made it perfectly clear she needed to ask all the right questions and get the leads all by herself.

  And that’s just what she intended to do.

  “Want to hear something interesting?” Makayla asked.

  Sam grinned into the iPhone as she plopped across her bed. “You finally beat me at laser tag?” She’d had so much fun today but was a bit tired now that she was back at home.

  “Ha ha.” Makayla chuckled. “But I did win.”

  Sam laughed.

  “Serious now. Remember you asked me to look more into Frank Hughes’ daughter and the rumor that she had drugs in her system at the time of the car accident that killed her?”

  Makayla had Sam’s full attention now. She sat upright. “Yeah?”

  “Well, her blood tests were inconclusive for drugs.”

  What? “I don’t understand. Drugs were either in her system or they weren’t.” Sam stood and began pacing.

  “Apparently it wasn’t that simple. Some of the medications she was on as part of her rehab treatment can and do cause false positives in some of the tests,” Makayla said. “No charges were filed with the state.”

  “Oh.” Interesting.

  “Anyway, that’s all I know. Want me to look up anything else?”

  “No. Thanks, Mac,” said Sam.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ve gotta run. Thanks again.” Sam’s mind went into overdrive. Something about guilt kept slamming in her head.

  What was it?

  Guilty. Blame.

  If Trish Hughes’s accident killed the other driver, and Trish also died, then who was to blame?

  Sam stopped pacing and went in search of Dad, finding him “watching” a football game on television. Watching with his eyes closed, a trick he said he’d mastered long ago. Sam just figured it was an excuse to nap. “Hey, Dad,” she said as she plopped down on the end of the couch.

  His eyes popped open and he sat up. “Yeah, pumpkin?”

  “What happens if somebody causes a wreck but they die?”

  Dad wiped his eyes and hid a yawn behind his hand. “What?”

  “If someone breaks the law—say, runs a stop sign or a red light—and they cause a really bad accident that kills someone else, but they die too, what happens? I mean, the person who is at fault is dead, so they can’t get a ticket or be punished, right?”

  “Right.” He yawned again. “Usually, in a case like that, if the family of the victim so desires, they file a claim against the person’s insurance company.”

  “Oh.” What
good did that do? “For why?”

  “Why?” Dad shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “For money.”

  “Money?” she asked.

  “Yeah. They file a wrongful death claim, or whatever they call it. And the insurance company usually pays the maximum of the policy.”

  “What good is the money if their family member is dead?” Sam asked. It really didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her.

  “Well, sometimes their family member didn’t die immediately. In that case, there are usually a lot of medical bills. And there are funeral expenses, which can be quite expensive.” Dad frowned. “Why are you asking, Sam?”

  She shook her head. “No reason, really. I was just curious.” She jumped up from the couch and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.” Sam rushed back to her room before he could ask her anything else.

  Did whoever Trish Hughes killed in the accident have any family? Could they be behind everything?

  CHAPTER 18

  THE TRUTH, THE WHOLE TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

  Don’t forget the youth rally next weekend. I expect every one of you to be there, ready to work,” Ms. Martha said.

  “Man, I’d forgotten all about the rally,” Sam whispered to Makayla.

  “That’s why she reminded you,” Makayla whispered back.

  The youth rally was next weekend, and Sam was so excited. A whole weekend out at the Arkansas 4-H Center. Fun times with the youth group. They would canoe, swim, and play badminton, and in the evenings, they’d share testimonies and faith. It was always a special event.

  Sam hung back a little after Ms. Martha released them to join their parents in the church’s sanctuary.

  “Come on. Mom will have my head if I’m not there to help her with Chloe before church starts,” Makayla said. Mrs. Ansley sang in the choir, and it was Makayla’s responsibility to watch her little sister during church.

  But Sam’s heart felt heavy. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there. I just need to ask Ms. Martha something right quick.”

  Makayla raised her eyebrows but went on ahead. Fear of her mother’s anger beat out curiosity.