by Linda Palund
And, I thought to myself, no one wrote down any license plate numbers to stick onto their refrigerator doors. I was disappointed, but hopeful too, and somehow I made it through another couple of days.
Seth called me Tuesday night to say the video team report was in, and he was going to download it off his dad’s computer and bring it to me the next day.
Wednesday morning, Seth met me in the school parking lot with the CCTV report, and we decided to attack it in the privacy of the seniors’ lounge after lunch, when we both had a free period.
We’d started using the seniors’ lounge pretty regularly as a rendezvous point to go over our notes for what we told everyone else was our special “extra credit” project. Hardly anyone ever used the lounge, so it made a perfect school-day retreat. On the first day we met, when I had brought Seth there, we had agreed to never let any of the kids at the school know his dad was the new captain of the LAPD Homicide Division. We didn’t have any particular reason for this secrecy; it just seemed the wise thing to do, and anyway, being the son of a cop was only one step up from being the son of a plumber in our high school pecking order.
We had made up a cover story about his dad being a surgeon like mine, and that was why we knew each other. I couldn’t even tell Wendy. We were careful not to let anyone, teacher or student, in on what we were doing. Although, I had to say that since Seth arrived at the school, my mood had greatly improved, so my teachers couldn’t help thinking something was up. Happily, they just thought I finally had a boyfriend. It was a good cover for both of us.
We sat at the table in the very back of the lounge now. We’d claimed it as ours for the last several weeks, as it was next to a window, which gave a view out to the student parking lot where our cars were parked, and there were no public areas where students might congregate between our window and our cars.
I brewed a couple of cups of our usual caustic blend, and then Seth opened the report file.
The file was pretty dense, so I let Seth read me the highlights.
“Well, this first part is just the info about the logistics of the footage. There’s a description of the camera placement, which was attached to the northeast corner of the roof of the mini-mart,” he said, scanning the documents. “It says that the camera provided a twenty-second scan that covered about 180 degrees of the lot, and showed vehicles pulling in and people pumping gas and going inside the mini-mart to pay. Oh, but it also included a view of the road in front of the station. That’s Heathercliff Drive.” Then he brightened up a bit. “It says that the camera caught an angle to allow visuals of the license plates of vehicles driving to and from the beach.”
“That sounds promising,” I said, putting our coffee mugs down on the table.
Seth took a long sip of his bitter brew and scanned the next few pages. “The next part of the report is just a list of every license plate of every SUV that could be read, in the lot or on the road. That’s it.”
“How many numbers is it?” I asked.
“Looks like about fifty.”
“That seems like a lot, but I remember it being a particularly balmy day, so a lot of folks were probably driving to the beach that day, or heading home.”
“Yeah,” agreed Seth, “and being a beach town, a lot of folks around there probably drive SUVs. It says in the round-up notes at the bottom that the video team hadn’t seen anything in the tapes that looked suspicious, but they had noted all the license plates anyway, just in case.”
“Well, that’s a start,” I said, feeling a mixture of disappointment and hope. I set to tidying up the lists and putting the report back in its folder. “Do you think it will lead anywhere?”
“Well, I guess it gives them some kind of list to run against any suspects they come up with later,” Seth ventured.
“That’s true. That’s good,” I said, but my little shred of hope was beginning to fade inside me again.
“They’re still trying to get ahold of the private security CCTV tapes from some of the houses up on your street. That will give them more plates to compare to these—and if any of the same plates turn up in both places, they might have a possible suspect.”
“That sounds promising,” I said, allowing my shred of hope to revive a bit.
Someone came into the lounge then, so we put the files away and headed for the lunchroom. I was feeling pretty optimistic for the rest of the day.
And then something happened that night that changed everything.
That very night, another girl disappeared. Seth phoned me as soon as he heard his father take the call.
“Lucy,” he said, breaking me out of my reverie. I had been lying on my bed listening to a Kristin Hersh album at a crushingly loud volume, which I found strangely comforting. I turned down my stereo.
“Hey,” I said, “what’s up?”
“Another girl has gone missing. They’re not waiting twenty-four hours to pursue the case either. They’ve already called my dad.”
“Oh God,” I answered, sitting up. “That’s awful. Do we know her?”
“She goes to Uni. Her name is Stephanie Nordstrom. She’s a sophomore. Do you know her?”
“I do know her. We’re not friends or anything, but she’s got some of my same teachers. She’s supposed to be really intelligent and focused. She’s not like the usual entertainment biz brats that go to our school. Her dad is some sort of Swedish diplomat.”
“That might account for them taking the case so seriously so quickly. What’s she actually like?”
“For one thing, she’s gorgeous. You must have seen her walking around campus. She’s that sleek and elegant blonde who looks like a supermodel. She’s tall enough to be a supermodel, anyway, but she has a really high IQ, and she’s totally focused on her music. She plays the violin. She transferred from Pacific Palisades this year because Uni has a better orchestra. She couldn’t care less about the boys in our school, because she still has a boyfriend at Palisades High.”
“I’ve definitely seen her. She’s that icy blonde who’s always carrying a violin case.”
“She’d be pretty hard to miss,” I said. “What’s happened to her?”
“According to the report I’ve already copied,” Seth said, “she disappeared on her way to her Wednesday-evening violin lesson. Her violin tutor only lives two houses up the road from Stephanie in Laurel Canyon. It takes less than five minutes to walk there, and evidently she’s made that five-minute walk every Wednesday for the last two years, ever since her family moved to LA. When she didn’t show up, the tutor called her parents. She’s never missed a lesson in her life, and her parents were frantic.”
“I bet,” I said. “So what are they doing about it?”
“Her parents called missing persons as soon as they checked with Stephanie’s boyfriend to make sure she wasn’t with him,” Seth said. “Missing persons contacted my dad immediately, because of Carmen’s case. I guess because both girls went to the same high school. But there’s another similarity, Lucy,” Seth added. “The team noticed that today is Wednesday, the same day of the week that Carmen had been taken.”
“So even though it started out as a missing persons’ case, the police are expecting the worst,” I finished for him.
“Yeah, sorry,” Seth said.
“You know,” I said, “there are a lot of other similarities between those girls. Even though I don’t know Stephanie very well, I do know that she is gorgeous, just like Carmen was. Looking the way she did, the same guys were always hitting on her, but she turned everyone down, of course, just like Carmen. She had this amazing confidence bordering on arrogance, which I thought was totally cool, especially when I saw her in action. She wasn’t concerned about what the jocks at Uni High thought about her. She was completely focused on her future as a concert violinist. God, she was beautiful, brilliant, and talented. I thought she had everything going for her.”
“Sadly, none of those wonderful attributes are going to save her, unless the police find her first
.” Seth said.
“That’s awful,” I said. “I hope they find her before it’s too late.”
“Look, I’ll keep you posted with anything I hear tonight, okay?”
“That would be great, because I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight anyway. Feel free to call me whenever you hear anything. Anything at all. And Seth, thank you for letting me know.”
Seth kept his word and called me throughout the night with up-to-the-minute reports of how Stephanie hadn’t been found yet, so I didn’t get much sleep. Then, just as I was forcing myself out of bed at 7:30 a.m. to get ready for school, Seth called me one last time.
“Lucy,” he said, pausing strangely. I could tell from the way he said my name that he had bad news to report. So I sat back down on my bed.
“Yeah,” I answered, and waited for him to break the news.
“She’s dead.”
“Oh no,” I said, and for some reason I burst out crying. “What happened?”
“They found her body this morning. She’d been dumped off the Ventura Freeway sometime during the night. A dog walker spotted her body near the Studio City exit early this morning.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “Did you hear anything more?”
“Not yet, but my dad is definitely on the case. It’s officially a homicide. Will you be okay?”
“Yes, I don’t know why I’m crying. I hardly knew her.”
“It’s okay. Will you make it to school all right?”
“Yeah. I’ll be all right. I’ll see you in the usual place. Thanks.”
I hung up and went into my bathroom and washed my face. I thought about waking my mom and talking to her about Stephanie, but decided I could handle it. I didn’t even need a Valium. I’d be better once I saw Seth.
I met Seth in the parking lot as usual. The story had broken on the news by the time I got there, so most everyone knew about Stephanie’s murder already. Seth had been handed a leaflet advising us that everyone was to come to the school auditorium for a special assembly. So we headed over there. The student body filed in, all teary-eyed and anxious, but Seth and I hung back so we could make our escape as soon as the assembly was over.
The principal greeted the student body but left it to the vice principal to inform us of what had officially happened to Stephanie and to remind us to be cautious and to never go anywhere alone—to always have a buddy. My buddy was Seth. We were already sitting together at the back. Then the school counselor informed us that she had set up some kind of counseling center in the nurse’s office, in case anyone felt traumatized by the brutal murder of a fellow classmate. I was still traumatized by the brutal murder of my best friend, but I didn’t want any counseling. I only wanted revenge.
CHAPTER 17
SHAKESPEARE’S
CLASSES WERE cancelled for the rest of the day, so Seth and I had nothing else to do while we waited for whatever news he could glean from his father’s computer. Neither of us wanted to go home, so I suggested he come with me to Shakespeare’s.
I hadn’t been to Shakespeare’s since the day Carmen disappeared. I simply hadn’t been able to face it. I knew everyone there would have heard about her murder, and they would have been kind and sympathetic to me, but I didn’t think I could handle their kindness and sympathy at the time. After a while, I felt embarrassed to return after I’d stayed away for so long. But ever since Seth and I became friends, I’d wanted to take him there. I knew he would like it, and I knew Cedric and Sebastian would like Seth.
Shakespeare’s was always open, even at ten o’clock in the morning, so I had Seth follow me in his Honda through the downtown Santa Monica traffic, all the way to the edge of Venice, where Shakespeare’s was. The parking lot was pretty empty that early in the morning, so we were able to park up against the guitar store, and I led Seth to the secret door at the back. Well, it really wasn’t so secret because there was a brightly colored sign above the door with the name Shakespeare’s in psychedelic lettering, but you would never know the club was there unless someone told you about it.
“So this is it?” Seth said, looking up at the sign as I opened the door.
We made our way down the stairs carefully, because it took our eyes a while to adjust to the dim light after the bright morning outside. As my eyes adjusted, I began to recognize an old song playing dreamily on the house stereo. I couldn’t remember the title, but it was by a band called Country Joe and the Fish. I think my dad owned the same album.
Sebastian was doing the morning shift, and he spotted us as soon as we reached the last step. I think he had been dancing to the music as he cleaned the tables because he waved his washcloth at us now as if it were Diana Ross’s ermine stole.
“My, my,” he said, beaming over at me, “the prodigal daughter returns.”
Then he came right up and gave me a big, embarrassing hug. “We missed you, Lucy,” he whispered. Then he let me go and looked over at Seth. “And who, may I ask, is this?”
“Sebastian, this is Seth. Seth, Sebastian. He owns the place,” I announced.
“Cedric and I own this wonderful club together. It’s nice to meet you, Seth.” And he shook Seth’s hand and smiled from ear to ear. Sebastian was quite tall and lean, and he still wore his red hair very long, although it was usually tied back in a ponytail or a braid like it was today. He also sported a full beard. He still dressed like a hippie too, wearing bell-bottom pants, flowing shirts, and a lot of jewelry and scarves. He was always wonderfully jolly, kind of like a redheaded hippie Santa Claus.
Seth looked around the place, taking it all in, the little café tables, the bookshelves, the small stage, and the sleeping young people on the back benches. Even though it was pretty early, there were several couples sitting at the tables, sipping coffee and talking to each other in low voices. As usual, they were mostly boys, and a lot of them were holding hands and looking at each other with love-filled eyes.
“Want some coffee?” Sebastian asked. “A brownie?”
“Actually, yes,” Seth said, blinking his eyes against the vision of the array of brownies set out on little round trays on the counter. “A brownie would be nice.”
“Seth’s always hungry,” I said. “Just coffee for me, though. Can I light my candle?” I asked, sitting down at one of the tables he had just cleaned and digging for a lighter in my handbag. I liked having the candles lit. I liked the atmosphere of the place, with its candles and sweet smell of patchouli oil, and of course, I liked the coffee.
“How do you take your coffee, Seth?”
“Can I get a latte?” he asked, spying the espresso machine. Carmen and Seth both took cream and sugar in their coffee, but if they could get a latte, that was their preferred beverage.
“Sure,” said Sebastian. “No problem.”
Seth sat down across from me but kept looking around the room. I think the presence of the gay boys was sinking in, because when he faced me, he had kind of a confused expression on his bony face. Fortunately, Sebastian walked over just then with a tray for our drinks and a plate of brownies for Seth.
“Thanks,” I said, sipping the wonderful coffee. It was French roast, my favorite, so much better than that chemical brew I made for us at school. Seth sipped his latte and raised his eyebrows.
“This is good,” he said appreciatively. He picked up a brownie, but he just stared at it for a moment like he was afraid it might be filled with marijuana or something. Then he sniffed it. I had to admit they smelled great, and I could see Seth figured it was safe to take a bite because he stuffed a huge piece into his mouth and munched. “This is good too,” he said after he swallowed. Then he looked at me with that confused expression again. “So,” he said finally. “This is the famous Shakespeare’s.”
“Well, it’s not exactly famous,” I answered. “Just the opposite. I think that’s why I like it.”
“So that’s the reason you like it? Not because it’s a gay hangout?”
There it was, then. The cat coming o
ut of the bag. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything at all and just took another sip of my coffee, but I met his gaze, which was kind of hard to do, because his eyes were suddenly a lot darker than I was used to.
“So do you think I’m gay?” he asked. He took another bite of his brownie and continued to look at me darkly.
“Well, you know, I’m gay,” I told him, because I actually didn’t know if he knew that about me. I mean, we’d talked about how much I loved Carmen, but I never said anything about how I loved Carmen or how she loved me.
“You are?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t guess?” I said.
“I never thought about it. But you haven’t answered my question. Do you think I’m gay?”
“I don’t know, are you?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping you were. Are you?”
Seth put down the last bit of his brownie and sat back in his chair, thrusting his long legs into the aisle at the side of the table. He chewed on his lower lip as if he were actually thinking about it. I began to wonder if I had guessed wrong. I don’t know why I thought he might be gay. Oh yes, I did. He was too nice and too sensitive to be anything else. And he’d never tried to make a move on me either. Plus, I’d never heard him talk about any girls in his past, and he never remarked on the looks of any member of our female student body, no matter how scantily clad they were. He was different from any boy I’d ever known. Besides, it was true: I wanted him to be gay.
“Actually, Lucy, I don’t know.”
“That’s exactly what Carmen and I said the first time we came here. We didn’t know either.”
“But you do now?”
“Yes, that’s right. I know I’m gay now. Don’t tell me you never suspected it or anything?”
“No, not really. You don’t look gay.”
