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Red Page 8

by Richard P Rigoli


  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “I came up to check on her, but she’s not in her room.”

  “That’s because I was getting my face on in the bath,” came a sharp reply. Kendra stepped into the hallway and rounded on Emma with eyes wide and full of fury. “So, what is it with you constantly sniffing after my boyfriend, Emma? Now, you’re at my freaking party? In my own house!”

  “It does look pretty bad when you put it that way,” Emma said. “But I was only…”

  “I’m not your boyfriend,” Jordan said sternly, cutting Emma off.

  “What?” Kendra asked. “Wait, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’m not your boyfriend,” Jordan replied with a frown. “We’re only dating—were dating—and it was never more than that—at least not for me.”

  “How could you do this to me, especially tonight!? Kendra said. Her eyes started brimming. She wiped at them, smearing dark mascara into wide streaks.

  “I wasn’t going to do this tonight, I really wasn’t, Kendra. But since we started dating the ‘my, my, my’ possessiveness only got worse. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’ve had enough of it. I’m done.”

  “Get out!” Kendra hissed with closed eyes. “Both of you! Get out of my house!” She exhaled, and Emma swore she saw steam rising off the other girl.

  “Kendra, calm down,” Jordan warned.

  “You don’t get to tell me to calm down! Not now! Now, you get to go!” Kendra screamed as she brushed past them and marched downstairs. “Security!” Kendra shouted from below, and Emma heard the music stop seconds later.

  “You figured breaking it off with her now was the way to go, huh?” Emma said in a sarcastically.

  “That wasn’t the plan, I swear,” Jordan shot back.

  “Well, I’m going to get out of here before it gets uglier.” Emma said, making her way down the stairs. Jordan followed behind her.

  Kendra and two large men clad in security uniforms met them on the first floor. “Those two need to go!” Kendra said with a tone of heated authority that cashed paychecks granted. “Get them off my property!” The two moved forward at once.

  “Sir, ma’am, keep your hands where we can see them!” One ordered.

  “Hey, this isn’t necessary. We’re already going,” Jordan said.

  “I said, let’s see those hands!” the guard barked again, reaching out and grabbing Jordan by the wrist, moving to pull it behind his back.

  “Oh, come on!” Jordan shouted as the second guard came in and clamped a hand to the back of Emma’s neck.

  “Really?!” Emma yelled at Kendra. The redhead didn’t reply and stood with arms folded, looking furious and miserable. Jordan turned, breaking his guard’s hold, and shoved the man back. Suddenly, Ryan Dunn rushed in out of the crowd—the big jock—knocking Emma’s guard aside like he was breaking through a defensive line on the Cypress Field.

  “Back off, ‘rent-a-cop’!” Ryan warned as he moved to stand beside Jordan. Emma felt a moment of relief until two more security guards ran up.

  “This escalated quickly,” Jordan commented with a sigh.

  “I’ve been in worse,” Ryan muttered but Emma saw that he started favoring one arm.

  Additional guards moved to surround them, snapping out telescoping batons, and looking like they knew how to use them. Their expressions told Emma that they had every intention of using them.

  “It’s worse,” Jordan countered.

  Suddenly, one guard was in the air, flipping and yelling as he hurtled over their heads landing hard on at the foot of the stairs. Where the guard had been, a figure crouched with gloved hands extended. The attacker wore a bulky blue hoodie and full-face Mardi Gras mask. Emma couldn’t tell if it was a guy or a girl.

  “What the hell?” One of the security guards said. The strange blue character sprang into action, striking at the confused guards in a blur of motion that Emma could barely follow. Every hit sent a guard tumbling back several feet. One large security guard, the big one that grabbed Emma, rushed back in, baton leading. The figure in the blue hoodie snapped an arm forward, open palmed, meeting the charge. The guard was sent flying back over the buffet tables with a crash. Emma blinked. That guard never got within arm’s reach, Blue Hoodie hadn’t physically touched him.

  The room became eerily silent except for the pained moaning from the direction of a pair of boots sticking out behind the table of food trays.

  “What the hell?” the security guard repeated.

  The strange character in blue turned toward the crowd and performed a sweeping bow. The stunned room broke out in wild applause as the figure ran out the doors and into the night.

  “Time to go?” Jordan asked.

  “Time to go!” Ryan agreed. He nodded to Kendra as he escorted their group past her. “Awesome party! Thanks for the invite, Ken.”

  14

  AFTERMATH

  The morning that followed Kendra’s birthday party was a non-stop social-media storm. Video after meme played the confrontation but nothing shed any light on “Blue Hoodie.” Most thought the entire incident was a staged, a performance arranged for the guests’ entertainment.

  Emma set her phone down with a frown. She had to admit that the wild scene made a lot more sense if that was “performance art.” She wished she could believe that too, but she wasn’t buying it. She had been standing right in the middle of that drama. There were no wires or tricks. The security guys had been anything but trained acrobats putting on a show. So, if it wasn’t staged, what exactly did she see?

  “I heard you get home pretty early last night,” her mom interjected. “How did the party go?”

  “It was interesting, Mom.” Emma replied, not looking up from her eggs.

  “You didn’t have a good time?”

  “Oh, I was having a great time,” Emma answered, considering her words carefully. “But I got the impression that Kendra wasn’t happy with me being there.” Though not technically a lie, Emma thought the last statement qualified as the understatement of the decade.

  “Best not to stay if you’re not welcomed then.” Cassandra nodded as she got up from the table.

  ***

  When Olivia arrived in Flower-The-Beetle the next morning, Emma got in without a word.

  “So,” Olivia asked, “you ready to talk about it?”

  “You were there too,” Emma said with a shrug. “I don’t know any more about the crazy, blue-ninja dude than you do.”

  “Yeah, that was very exciting. But last night, the DJ from the party posted that he helped set the whole thing up. So, that part isn’t as exciting as it was yesterday,” Olivia said impatiently as she backed out of the driveway. “What I’m talking about is you and Jordan!”

  “Oh, that,” Emma said, giving Olivia a wry smirk, and then intentionally pausing to check her hair in the visor’s small vanity mirror. Olivia looked like she was about to scream before Emma finally continued. “He drove me home.”

  “I figured that much out,” Olivia snapped. “Details! I need details!”

  “There’s not much to tell,” Emma said.

  “Uh huh.” Olivia looked doubtful.

  “No, really,” Emma replied. “We were all wound up about the fight, and that’s all we talked about.”

  “That’s all?” Olivia complained. “Give me something!”

  “Well…” Emma hedged.

  “Give!”

  “We’re going for coffee later.”

  “How much later?” Olivia asked.

  “Later… today,” Emma said and felt her cheeks heat.

  “Jade was right.” Olivia said.

  “About what?” Emma asked.

  “You are scandalous!”

  ***

  When Emma got to Economics, Jordan walked in by himself and sat down in his regular seat in front of her. Kendra entered a minute later and coerced Connor into trading seats with her. The redhead settled in without a glance in their direction. No one said a word. Jorda
n gave a small sigh, but his expression brightened as he turned to smile at Emma. She smiled back and chided herself for the butterflies returning to her stomach. Get a grip!

  Mr. Biggs was about to start class when the door opened. Rai strolled in, sunglasses propped stylishly on top of his head. He produced an official yellow “Change of Class” form from the office, handed it to Mr. Biggs, and then settled into the teacher’s extra rolling chair near Emma’s window.

  “Hey, you’re taking this class now?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah, I got all my English credits caught up and ended up here,” Rai said with a nod. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

  “Would it be acceptable with you if I started my class today, Mr. Aoi?” Mr. Biggs chided.

  “Oh, yeah. Go ahead. Sorry,” Rai replied. There was something different about Rai that Emma couldn’t place. It seemed taller, though he wasn’t any taller. Regardless, Emma was just glad he was talking to her again. He must be feeling better and certainly looked like he was.

  He picked up his notebook and turned a page towards her. It read: Talk at lunch? Emma nodded back at him.

  The teacher split the class back into their groups for the rest of the unfinished assignment from last week. Ryan loomed over Emma, bobbed his head to her her, and then took his seat. He cringed slightly and circled his shoulder, showing his arm in a sling. “Crazy party, right?” The jock said, idly rocking his arm back and forth.

  “Wow! Are you okay?” Emma asked.

  “It’s only bruised,” he said. “Hurts but no real damage.”

  “That’s a relief,” Emma said. “Thank you for jumping in like that.”

  “It’s all good,” he said.

  Unlike last week, the rest of the period was uneventful. Occasionally, Emma looked over at Kendra. The redhead looked sullen and never glanced in back in her direction. Emma still didn’t like her, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Kendra. The bell rang, and everyone scrambled out of class while Emma picked up her pack.

  “Emma?” Jordan asked, and she looked up at him.

  “Yeah?”

  “We still on for later?”

  “Definitely,” Emma replied. Jordan smiled as he headed off.

  “You and Jordan, eh?” Rai asked from behind her.

  “It’s just coffee,” she replied.

  “It’s about time is what it is,” He said smugly.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Rai laughed. “That guy’s been drawing little hearts with your initials inside since at least the sixth grade. It’s kind of sad, actually.”

  “Does everyone in school know about this?”

  “Everyone but you, apparently,” Rai said as he made his way out the door. “Well, I gotta get to calculus, Em. See you at lunch?”

  ***

  “Someone else must have had a busy weekend,” Olivia commented at lunch.

  “Who, me?” Rai answered through a mouthful of cornbread. “Naw, I was just playing video games. All weekend. You can ask my mom if you don’t believe me.”

  “Relax, Rai, nobody cares about your raiding group. She meant Jade,” Emma said, pointing across the room.

  Jade was nestled under Greg Roth’s arm. He was the school’s junior varsity football player but also a drummer who favored worn-out Bauhaus tee shirts. As such, he met the requirements for the Cypress High School’s small Goth subculture table. It was known as the “Arrens” table, after their unofficial leader, Sean Arrens. Rai turned to look and shrugged.

  “She’s hanging out with those guys now?” Rai asked.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s just mad at her dad.” Olivia said. “You want anything from the lunch line?” She asked, patting Emma’s shoulder.

  “No, nothing for me.”

  “Suit yourself.” Olivia scooted away from the table and headed off.

  “I need to tell you something,” Rai said when Olivia stepped away. He lowered his voice, took out a small piece of cloth from his jacket and slid it across the table toward Emma. “I think—no, in fact—I know that the fires in my father’s businesses were deliberately set.”

  Emma leaned in and whispered, “Yeah, everyone thinks it was your dad trying to collect insurance money.”

  “My father doesn’t need insurance money. So, that’s a lie.” Rai folded his arms.

  “What about your mom’s medical bills?” Emma said, gauging his face.

  “She’s in remission,” Rai said. “It was very sudden, and we’re hoping it lasts. But right now, she isn’t even on medication.”

  “That’s good news at least!” Emma laid a hand on his forearm. “Did she receive some new treatment?”

  “No,” Rai replied, “It’s nothing like that. With her type of MS, relapse and remittance is common. She started feeling better right after homecoming.” He sat quietly for several moments.

  “So,” Emma switched topics, “what’s with this cloth?”

  Rai shook himself as if clearing his thoughts and pointed to the cloth in her fingers. “I found it at my father’s warehouse shortly after the fire. It was sticking out from the corner of a broken window.”

  “About every window was broken in those buildings, you know?” Emma said a little too knowingly. Rai gave her sidelong look.

  “What did you do?” He asked.

  “Nothing. Really,” she lied.

  “You know that hand-wringing thing you do is known as a ‘tell’,” he said, pointing. “As in ‘I’m telling you a lie, Rai.’”

  “Okay, fine,” Emma said, sticking her hands under the table in frustration. “Livs and I went snooping around the warehouses. We’re just trying to help.”

  “You know, they’re doing an arson investigation, right?” Rai asked rhetorically. “You could’ve gotten in trouble.”

  “Yeah, we know. It was dumb, but I had to do something.”

  “Did you find anything worth sharing?” Rai asked.

  “Yeah, it looked like the fire system was sabotaged somehow but we only got a good look at one of the buildings,” Emma admitted. “A guard showed up, and we had to get out of there.” Emma considered mentioning the map, but as weird as that whole thing was, she didn’t think it was relevant to the fire.

  “That makes sense,” Rai agreed. “If someone wanted our buildings to burn, they’d want to make sure the sprinklers didn’t go off.” He pointed at the fabric. “The window I found this at was different though,” Rai leaned close and held up a finger. “One, it was in a window to an undamaged office off our main building. Two, the broken glass was on the inside of the room.”

  “The investigators didn’t have anything to say about that?”

  “Yeah, well, they’re sure the window was damaged after the fire too, making any evidence collected suspect,” Rai muttered with a scowl.

  “You messed with the window?” Emma gasped.

  Rai nodded, but the firm set of his jaw did not fade. “It was an accident! My bad. But I can’t fix that now. What I do know is that this cloth is important. Take a look.”

  Emma ran the piece of fabric through her fingers. It was expertly woven in white satin or silk and had a red cord border. “It feels expensive. I have a tough time picturing our arsonist sporting white and red silk pajamas or whatever this is torn from. That whole line of work has more of black-jeans-and-a-hoodie look to it.”

  “Right, unless the cloth was left there on purpose.”

  “Not sure I see a reason to leave a silk calling card when breaking-in at your dad’s warehouse,” Emma complained. But in her mind, she was running down possible reasons. Emma chewed at the corner of her lip as she began calculating. He stopped smiling when her eyes narrowed at him. “Your dad has something made from this same silk, doesn’t he?”

  “My dad has something made from this same silk, yes,” Rai repeated.

  “Holy crap, Rai! You hid this from the investigators?” Emma leaned in close and hissed. “You could get thr
own in jail!”

  “I had to know for sure. There’s an old robe in my dad’s collection, and this looked like it could have been from that. But I checked a while back, and the robe is old and yellow. Also, nothing was torn from it.”

  “Ok, that’s good news at least.”

  “Well, except, that the robe is missing now,” Rai concluded. He slipped the cloth back into his pocket as Olivia returned.

  “Oh, no!” Emma said, shaking her head. “Tell her.”

  “But she’ll be mad at me,” Rai said stubbornly.

  “What am I going to be mad about?” Olivia asked while organizing her plate.

  “I was scolding him for snooping around the warehouses after the fire,” Emma said severely.

  “Uh huh,” Olivia replied frowning. “What a terrible terrible thing to do, Rai. So irresponsible and dangerous and...”

  “I already know you guys did the same thing.” Rai smirked.

  “—and brave,” Olivia boasted. “So brave and adventurous.” They took a minute to have a laugh, and then, Rai brought out the cloth. They quickly got Olivia up to speed. Her dark brown eyes scanned the piece of fabric. “What else can you tell us about your dad’s missing robe?”

  “Not much, other than the monogram. It didn’t have any labels or anything,” Rai replied. Emma and Olivia just stared at him.

  “What?”

  “A monogram?” Emma spat while Olivia simultaneously launched a wadded-up napkin at his forehead.

  “Hey!” Rai cried, “Why do initials of the owner of an old robe matter?”

  “We can’t afford to pass up anything even resembling a lead, you goof,” Olivia chided.

  “Just tell us what the robe had on it, Rai,” Emma added. “It could be substantial. Especially since someone went to the trouble to take it.”

  Rai nodded and looked thoughtful for a long moment. His expression shifted to pensive and finally settled on openly sheepish.

  Olivia bounced another napkin off him. “Oh, my gawd! You totally forgot, didn’t you!?”

  “No! I just need to think about it for a minute,” Rai shot back as the lunch bell blared.

 

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