I waited impatiently while she printed it out painstakingly slow. Then she said, “I’ll call your friend Chuck and give him this number. He should be able to track it down.”
“I sure hope so,” I said, and told her what Aunt Mary had told me.
“So, it turns out Mary Wicker has some gumption after all,” she mused.
I grimaced. “A fat lot of good that’s going to do us.”
Aunt Lucinda shook the pencil at me. “Don’t be so negative, boy! This is all-out war. We make use of all the people on our side.”
“Like who?”
She chuckled. “Like your lawyer friend, for one. Chuck told me he was stunned when you finished telling your tale, but he believed you.”
I shrugged.
“And Sergeant Baker, for another.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“He called this morning to find out how I was feeling. He said Craig Averil denied ever coming here, much less knocking me down. Craig said I was a crazy old lady who should be locked up. From the tone of his voice, I knew Sergeant Baker gave more credence to you and me than to Mr. Averil. But without proof, the police can’t throw him in jail where he belongs.”
“What about the camp pin we gave him? Isn’t that proof Craig came into your house and hit you?”
Lucinda sighed. “There were no clear prints. And Sergeant Baker said there are dozens of those pins floating around town.”
“Not to mention the police chief is Uncle Raymond’s buddy. This morning they went out for breakfast to talk about things.”
Lucinda nodded. “John Knowles is as cautious as they come. He’ll stick by Raymond until proof of his evil ways is shoved in his face. Then watch him put my slimy nephew behind bars.”
“I hope that happens soon. I don’t know what Raymond has in mind for Lucy.”
“What about your friends, the twins?” Lucinda asked. “Can you count on them to help?”
“I don’t know how they can help. They have no idea of what I’m going through. They’d think I was crazy if I told them.”
Lucinda met my gaze straight on. “Maybe it’s time you put their friendship to the test.”
I was on my way home when I realized I’d forgotten to tell Lucinda about Raymond’s plan to attend the town meeting and announce his change of plans. But maybe that wasn’t important, with everything else going on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AFTER DINNER, I showered and dressed with care. I grabbed a light jacket and kissed Aunt Mary good-bye.
“I hope they won’t be serving any liquor to you young people,” she said.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Mary, I won’t touch a drop.” I wouldn’t, either. I needed a clear head and my wits about me to deal with everything coming down around me.
Outside, the sky was dark and the air felt cool, reminding me that the summer vacation was drawing to a close. Camp would end on Friday. Thursday evening was the town meeting. After Labor Day weekend, the new school year began. I wondered where I’d be then—attending classes, on the run, or serving as an unwilling host to my uncle. I shook my head vigorously at the last one. No way would I allow my uncle’s maniacal plan to succeed.
The only good thing was being able to contact Lucy after I left Lucinda’s. Lucy got so excited when she realized we could communicate that I had to calm her down for fear she’d tip off the woman looking after her. Knowing I was only a thought away lessened some of her terror, especially when I said our great-aunt Lucinda was helping to rescue her. Our connection grew faint, probably because it was new to Lucy and had worn her out. I told her to sleep as much as she could, and we’d talk again in the morning.
For the first time, I was nervous when I rang the Coltranes’ doorbell. Andy let me inside. Clearly, he hadn’t taken the trouble to dress for the party. His chinos were wrinkled and his shirttails hung out of his pants as usual.
He eyed me up and down. “You look all spiffed up.”
My ears grew warm. “I showered and put on clean clothes. After all, we are going to a party.”
Andy shrugged. “Big deal. I’m in the middle of a game. I hope to get my highest score ever. Be finished in a minute.”
I followed him into his bedroom and watched him feverishly attack an army of ghouls on the computer screen, accompanied by howls of rage and shouts of glee. After a few minutes, Andy called over his shoulder, “This will take a while. Why don’t you go say hi to Pol? See what she’s up to.”
“Sure. Why not?” My pulse rate shot up as I followed Andy’s suggestion. Pol’s door was closed. I took a deep breath and knocked. She opened it a crack and peered out.
“Are you decent?” I asked.
“I’m always decent,” she answered, flinging open the door. “Come on in.”
“Wow!” I exclaimed. Pol wore a sea-green silk top with spaghetti straps, straight-leg jeans, and high heels. With her hair caught in an upsweep and her eyelids tinted violet, she hardly looked like the girl I saw at camp every day.
“That’s some outfit.”
“Think so?” She swirled a silk shawl around her shoulders and struck a pose. Suddenly she looked older.
I swallowed. “You’re not wearing that getup to the party.”
Offended, Pol wrinkled her nose. “Why? Don’t you like my shawl?”
I felt like a rabbit caught in a snare! Whatever I said now would come out wrong. “It’s beautiful. But isn’t this party kind of casual?”
“Translated, I should look as sloppy as my brother?”
“I didn’t mean—”
Her face had turned beet red. “Go back to Andy’s room. He won’t mind your comments about his clothes.”
I struggled to find the words that would make things right. “Pol, come on. I only meant—”
But she shooed me out and slammed the door behind me. Totally mortified, I returned to Andy’s room.
“She threw you out,” Andy said, turning from his game.
“Yeah.” I was beginning to wonder if coming tonight was a mistake. “Hey, maybe I’ll forget about this party thing.”
“Don’t be silly,” Andy said. “I’ll finish this game, then we’ll stop by there for a while.”
“All right,” I agreed. Going to this party was better than sitting in my room, worrying when my uncle would try another infusion and mulling about poor Lucy.
Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Coltrane drove the three of us to the party. Andy sat in the front passenger seat. Pol and I sat in the back. I turned to her several times during the ride, but she kept her eyes forward. I tried to come up with an apology that would get her to talk to me again, but everything that came to mind sounded dumb.
Mrs. Coltrane parked on a street of beautiful homes set back on imposing lawns. I was surprised when she got out of the car and walked with us past several parked vehicles, then up the long driveway leading to the Lewis’s home. But as soon as I entered the two-story hall of the enormous house, I realized the party wasn’t only for camp people. Guests of all ages filled the four downstairs rooms and spilled outside onto the large terrace and pool area.
Melanie Lewis dashed over to greet us. I didn’t know her very well since I had little contact with the camp’s arts and crafts program. She was tall, with long dark hair, and pretty in a natural outdoorsy kind of way. She hugged the four of us in turn.
“Come on outside,” she beckoned with a wave of her hand. “The good food’s out there.”
An older woman who looked remarkably like Melanie stopped our progress to whisper something in her daughter’s ear. She introduced herself as Melanie’s mom, hugged Mrs. Coltrane, and led her away.
Andy stood hand on hips, watching the two women disappear from sight. “There goes Mom. She’ll probably end up staying until we decide to leave.”
Melanie laughed. “And what if she does? Your mother’s welcome, as are all our fellow-thinking friends.”
We followed Melanie through the sliding glass doors to the back terrace. I tried not
to gape at the platters of food set out on long tables. As if that weren’t enough, waitresses circulated with trays of hors d’oeuvres.
“Eat something,” Melanie offered, “but drink nothing stronger than soda.” She laughed. “We don’t want the law coming down on us.” She waved and sped away.
Andy rubbed his hands as he leered at the banquet before us. “Food, here I come!” he announced and started filling a plate.
The beat of the soft rock music filled my head. I tingled with nervous energy, aware of Pol at my side.
“I shouldn’t have eaten dinner,” I said.
“I should have told you there’d be enough food to feed an army,” she said.
“That’s okay.”
I noticed she’d left the shawl at home, probably because of my dumb comment. As far as I could tell, there was no dress code, though most kids our age were wearing shorts or jeans and a shirt; older guests wore dressier outfits.
“I’m glad you’re talking to me again,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice dripped with irony.
I was overcome by the wish to tell her everything. “For one thing, I didn’t mean to cut you off at the library yesterday afternoon. That phone call was—”
She pressed her finger to my lips. “Later.”
“Okay.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “Would you like some soda?”
“Root beer, if they have it. If not, Coke. I’ll find us a table.” Pol pointed to the small tables set up around the pool.
I got on line at the table serving drinks and noticed that, aside from the camp counselors, most of the guests were older. I recognized businessmen and women and store owners I’d seen around town. At a table, two members of the town council carried on a heated conversation. Marshall McMahon and Roderick Tunney were my uncle’s opponents regarding most issues. They were responsible for setting up the town meeting to discuss the playing fields. I leaned forward, intent on eavesdropping, when someone pounded me on the shoulder.
“How goes it, Simon?”
“Chuck! Good to see you!”
He eyed me carefully. “I’m glad you’re here. Lucinda filled me in on the latest.” He lowered his voice. “Sorry about your sister. I wanted to tell you, but I was hesitant about calling the house. Or even your cell phone.” He let out a sigh. “From what Lucinda said, your uncle has all bases covered.”
I looked around to see if anyone could overhear our conversation. “My sister’s all right for now. I spoke to her.”
“Thank God! Your uncle’s some piece of work. Pretending to be an upstanding citizen when he’s as low as they get.”
I told him about the police chief’s visit. As I spoke, a tingling feeling ran up my spine. Someone was watching us! I turned casually, in time to see two men step back into the small forest of trees at the rear of the property.
Chuck frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this. Jack—Sergeant Baker believed what you and your aunt told him. He’s a straight arrow. You can be sure he won’t let this matter rest.”
I leaned over and whispered to Chuck. “Start laughing.”
“What?”
I began to laugh. I moved closer to Chuck and slapped his back. “Laugh, damn it! I’ll explain later.”
Chuck laughed. From the corner of my eye, I watched the two men speaking, though I couldn’t make out their words. They were big, brawny brutes—totally out of place among the relaxed guests. Not wanting them to know I was on to them, I made a silly comment to Chuck. More laughing and back slapping. When next I checked, they’d disappeared. A flash of motion six feet above the ground told me they’d scrambled over the fence.
“Two men were watching,” I told Chuck. “I didn’t want them to think we were discussing anything serious.”
Chuck looked around. “Where are they? They’ve no business invading a private party.”
“They’re gone. Over the fence and probably in some neighbor’s yard by now. They work for my uncle.”
Chuck eyed me closely. “You’re sure about this?”
I frowned. “Positive, though I’ve never seen either of them before. I’ve been a fool, assuming Craig Averil’s the only goon he has doing his dirty work.”
“Craig won’t show up here tonight.”
“Why not? He’s not in jail where he belongs,” I said.
“The police brought him down to the station and questioned him, but they had to let him go. He denied he and your uncle were discussing what you claimed they were talking about. Your uncle backed him up.”
I grimaced. “Sure. Then how did I know Lucinda was lying near death?”
“As I said, Jack Baker believes you. But he has to deal with his captain, who’s a great pal of your uncle Raymond. They can’t hold Averil without evidence of wrongdoing.”
“Evidence,” I muttered. “We have no proof of anything, do we?”
“We’ll get it,” Chuck said. “Jack was livid when Lucinda told him about your sister Lucy. He’s checking out the cell phone number you gave your aunt.”
At least I had a lawyer and a cop on my side! But it wasn’t enough. Lucy was my uncle’s prisoner, and the police chief acted like he didn’t believe his friend Raymond Davenport was capable of committing heinous crimes.
“But you meant something else—didn’t you?—when you said Craig wouldn’t show up here.”
He nodded. “The Lewises and Craig Averil had a falling out over the issue of the playing fields.”
“Really? How do you know?”
My answer came as Melanie joined us and slipped an arm around Chuck’s waist. “What are you two conspiring about?” she asked, reaching up to kiss his neck.
He pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek. “Business, my dear. Are there any more of those delicious baby lamb chops coming out soon?”
“I’ll go check.” Melanie winked. “Hurry back to our table, or I might eat them all myself.”
“And I’d better get Pol’s soda,” I said.
“Call if you need me,” Chuck said. “Or if you want to talk.”
“I will, thanks.” I stood on the drinks line, my mind awhirl. Raymond had spies watching me. How many people worked for him? Carried out his evil deeds? Who was the woman looking after Lucy?”
My Coke in one hand, Pol’s root beer in the other, I walked toward the table Pol had snagged for us. A hand reached out to stop me. My heart leaped to my throat. Had my uncle’s men returned to grab me?
“You’re Eddie Davenport’s son, aren’t you?”
I looked down into the smiling face of one of the two councilmen I’d noticed earlier.
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m Marshall McMahon, a high school friend of your dad’s. I was terribly sorry to hear what happened to your parents.” He gestured to his skinny table mate. “This is Rod Tunney.”
I turned from one smiling face to the other. “Pleased to meet you.”
“We’re both on the town council with your uncle Raymond.”
“I know,” I said, ready to move on.
“Any chance he’ll change his mind about the playing fields?” Ron Tunney asked.
“Hey, no politics now,” his friend chided him. “This is a friendly party.”
I saw my chance to ruin my uncle’s surprise and get back to Pol in one fell swoop. “Turns out my uncle’s changed his mind about building condos on the playing fields land.”
The men’s eyes lit up.
“You don’t say!” Marshall exclaimed. “Who would have guessed old Raymond would have a change of heart, especially when he was bound to make a nice bundle of money?”
“Uncle Raymond’s planning to come to the meeting Thursday night. He said he’ll bring refreshments.”
The announcement left both councilmen speechless. “Gotta go,” I said. “Nice meeting you.”
I found Pol chatting with two girls at the next table. Andy was sitting beside her, chomping away on his pile of food.
“Sorry I took so long,” I said as
I handed Pol her root beer.
“That’s all right.” She smiled and sipped her soda.
Andy came up for air. “You gotta try this chicken. It’s awesome!”
“I’m not hungry,” Pol said, smiling at me.
“Me neither.” I smiled back.
“Wanna dance?” Pol asked.
I sent her a questioning look. She gestured to the dance floor behind us.
“Sure,” I said casually, like I wasn’t worried how we’d be as partners.
We joined two other couples dancing in slow motion to “Blue Moon,” a song my mom used to sing as she straightened up the house. A minute later we were moving totally in sync as I led her around the small dance floor.
I liked holding Pol in my arms. I breathed in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair, her floral perfume. She hummed softly, then sang the words of the song.
“You know the words!” I said, surprised.
She tilted back her head to smile at me. “I like old songs.”
“Me, too,” I murmured, and pulled her closer.
When the music stopped, she tried to step back but I held her.
“That was nice,” I whispered.
“Yes, it was.” She remained in my arms.
The music started up, this time a faster, popular song with a great beat. Again, we danced well together as if we’d been attending the same parties since grade school. I wondered if this had anything to do with my extra-keen powers, or simply that Pol was a graceful dancer and required only the slightest direction to follow my lead. No matter. By the time the medley of songs had ended and we stood applauding, I’d come to a decision.
Pol shot me a questioning look as I ushered her from the dance floor. “Let’s go for a walk,” I said, guiding her along the path that led to the road.
She laughed. “Simon Porte, are you making a move on me?”
“I want to tell you a few things. You may not be laughing when I’m through.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MY UNCLE INSISTED on an infusion every day. I did my best to block his toxic invasions, but more than the bit Lucinda said to let in infiltrated my brain. They were mostly his memories and his devious ways of doing business. Raymond had a wheeler-dealer’s philosophy and didn’t balk at making shady deals as long as he came out ahead. I felt grubby after a dose of these thoughts and took extra care to scour my mind of them as soon as he left.
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