Scandal Sheet

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Scandal Sheet Page 21

by Gemma Halliday


  “Let’s get the heck out of here,” Aunt Millie said, still nervously glancing back to where we’d deposited Mrs. Carmichael.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Cal helped the aunts out of the boat. I followed a step behind, tripping on an animatronic dog and losing my balance. I pitched forward, but a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me from plowing headfirst into a little doll wearing a sombrero.

  “Thanks,” I said, turning to thank the kind tourist.

  Only, when I looked up, instead of a Panama hat and camera, I came face-to-face with the muzzle of a gun.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Stand up slowly. Don’t make any sudden moves,” a voice said. I couldn’t have told you who it came from, though, as my entire being was focused on the gun barrel pointed right at my forehead.

  I complied, slowly easing upright, hands up in a surrender motion. I squinted through the colorful lights, trying to make out the face behind the menacing weapon, but it was obscured by the shifting shadows. All I could tell was that the voice was female.

  “What do you want?” I asked, even though the gun leveled at me was a pretty clear signal she didn’t want to play Parcheesi.

  “I want you,” she said.

  “You want me to what?”

  “Shut up.”

  My gaze darted around for Cal. I caught his retreating back as he protectively put an arm around Aunt Sue, leading her out the exit. God bless him, he was still worried about her getting caught.

  Unfortunately, that left me high and dry.

  “Back up,” she said, taking a step closer, the gun jutting into my chest. “Behind that tower.”

  I glanced behind me, a looming tower painted in sparkles and glitter with a handful of dolls wearing fruit on their heads on top, still dancing and singing.

  If I had to pick my least favorite place to die, this would probably be it. Could there be a worse fate than the strains of this stupid song being the last thing on earth that you ever hear?

  However, considering I wasn’t the one with the gun, I had little choice. I backed up, praying that one of the ladies in the cheery blue uniforms would see us.

  No such luck. Between herding tourists, the colorful lights, the singing dolls, and the boats backing up one after another behind us, no one even glanced our way.

  I walked slowly backward, deliberately veering to the left, where a stream of pink light shone down from overhead. As my captor followed me, the light played across her face.

  I sucked in a breath. “You! You’re the one who’s been threatening me?”

  Lani Cline chuckled. “Gee, what tipped you off, Sherlock?”

  I narrowed my eyes at Jennifer Wood’s co-star. Hey, you try being brilliant when you’ve got a gun pointed at your tatas.

  “You killed Hattie Carmichael,” I said, the gears in my head churning overtime.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “My neighbor.”

  “The old lady in your condo?”

  I nodded, though I wasn’t sure she could see me through the darkness.

  “Look, I swear she was an accident,” Lani said, in her perky fake-teen voice. “All I meant to do was trash your place, scare you. But this nosy old hag comes barging in like she owns the place, yelling about the TV being too loud. I didn’t have any choice. I had to shut her up.”

  “So you killed her,” I said, my throat thick with emotion. So Mrs. C. hadn’t been my favorite person in the world. In fact, she was kind of a pain in the butt. But to hear her talked about as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience grated on my nerves.

  “I just meant to shut her up. That old thing had a set of lungs on her like you wouldn’t believe. So, I grabbed a bookend and hit her on the head.”

  “But why?” I asked, taking a small step back, my butt coming up against a wall. I tried to feel around behind me for anything I could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, dolls are notoriously safe. I shifted to the left slightly, trying to get a good look around the tower for any sort of escape route. To my right, Lani stood holding the gun. To my left was a line of dolls glued to the floor. If I could distract Lani long enough, I might have a chance of jumping over them…“I mean, why threaten me in the first place?” I asked. “I never even wrote about you?”

  Suddenly Lani’s perky little face scrunched up into an ugly mass of anger. “That’s the problem! Three years I’ve been on that moronic show, having to play second fiddle to some nitwit teenager. I’m a classically trained actress. I played Ophelia at Harvard!”

  I squinted through the darkness, getting my first real close-up look at Lani. Unlike her character, I realized she was much older than I’d thought. Early to midtwenties at least. And by the way her eyes were taking on a wide, feverish look, I could well imagine her playing the crazed Shakespeare heroine.

  “I have a masters in fine art,” she went on, “I studied under the finest acting coaches of our time. And what do I get in return? Does anyone recognize my talent? No! Instead, you print stories about that twit Jennifer flashing her boobs!”

  “So, you threatened me to make the stories about Jennifer stop?” I asked. I shifted to the left again, closing the gap between me and escape. Just a few inches more. I just had to keep her talking and wait for my opening.

  “Exactly. Why should some trashionista get all the press?” Lani smiled, a creepy expression that never quite reached her eyes. “And, to kill two birds with one stone, I framed Jennifer. The first step was making the phone call from her production company’s offices. Of course, I had to disguise my voice, but I was sure you’d be able to trace the call. Then, when no one was looking, I snuck into the hair and makeup trailer and grabbed Jennifer’s hairbrush, leaving strands of her long blonde locks all over your place when I trashed it. Total DNA dump.” She frowned. “Didn’t you find the hair?”

  “DNA takes ten days to process,” I said. Then took another tiny step to the left. “Even if the police found it, their lab won’t have results back for another week at least.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s crap. It only takes a couple minutes on CSI.”

  “CSI is a TV show.”

  She gave me a blank stare, not getting my point. “You were supposed to be freaked into quitting. You were supposed to stop printing those stupid stories about Jennifer.” She frowned again. “Only you didn’t stop.”

  “Oops, my bad,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Shut up!” She took a step toward me, waving the gun at me.

  I’m no dummy. I shut up.

  “When it became clear you were going to be a problem, I went with plan B.”

  I hated to ask. “Plan B?”

  She nodded again, her sleek hair shimmering a twisted blue in the pastel lighting. “Up the stakes. That’s what my acting coaches always say to do when a scene is lagging. I upped the stakes by framing Jennifer for not only threatening you, but your murder. If Jennifer was arrested, guess who’d be in line as the new star of Pippi Mississippi?”

  Personally I had a hard time picturing the show going on without Jennifer. Lani the Loon just doesn’t have the same ring to it. But it was clear this chick had passed sane thought at least one dead body ago.

  “That’s when you planted the bomb on my bike?” I prompted, glancing to my left. One more step, and I’d be close enough to leap over the line of dolls.

  Lani shrugged. “It was easy enough to boost some items from the pyrotechnics division on the lot.” She did a short laugh. “Besides, what kind of freak drives a pink motorcycle anyway?”

  If she hadn’t been holding a gun, I would have given her the finger. As it was, I just gritted my teeth in the dark.

  “And now,” she added, “it’s time to finish this act.” She took a step closer, closing the precious gap I’d created between us. “As much as I’ve enjoyed ad-libbing with you, Tina, this scene needs to come to an end so our heroine can finally get what’s coming to her.”

  Her eyes took on a cold, deter
mined look, glazing over, void of any type of emotion. Her fingers tightened on the trigger.

  And I swear it was all I could do not to pee my pants. I dragged in a deep breath, inhaling the scents of recirculated water and dusty displays. Unless I wanted to die among the children of the world, it was now or never.

  I jumped to the left, diving over the three-foot-tall line of singing dolls, landing headfirst on the other side. I scraped my elbow on a fake burro, but I hardly even noticed, my entire being focused on the sound of Lani swearing behind me, tripping over the dolls, coming toward me, gun drawn.

  I bolted upright. Considering she was between me and the exit now, the only choice I had was to run deeper into the ride. Which I did, dodging the displays of little arms swinging, bodies twirling, tiny animals riding bicycles, heading full bore toward the next room.

  I made it just as I heard the sound of Lani’s feet pounding after me. I ducked behind a display of mermaids floating in the South Seas.

  “I know you’re in here, Bender. You can’t hide forever!” Lani threatened, toppling over a display of fish.

  I gingerly felt the wall behind me for any sign of an exit behind the curtains in this room. Unfortunately, none.

  Even more unfortunately, I tripped over a coral reef, alerting Lani to my location.

  “Aha. I’ve got you,” she shouted, jumping out from behind a conch shell.

  Only this time I was ready for her. I grabbed a piece of plastic seaweed and swung at her head, smacking her right in the temple.

  “Uhn.” She went down, tumbling backward and knocking into a hula girl. I didn’t wait to see if she got up, bolting for the next room.

  I flew past North America, charging right into the children of the world room, cursing that song with every step. I was going to have to scrub my brain with bleach to ever get it out.

  Assuming I survived.

  I rounded the corner, and the end was finally in sight. I could see daylight at the end of the very long (how freaking long was this ride anyway?) tunnel. I pumped my legs for all I was worth, not even caring how many little people I knocked over on my dash for freedom.

  One that was cut short when I heard the crack of a gunshot behind me.

  “Make another move and you’re a dead woman!”

  I saw the gunshot hit the little dancing cowboy next to me right between the eyes. I liked my forehead hole free. So, I froze.

  In a second, Lani was beside me, pressing the gun to my rib cage again.

  “God, you’re fast.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. “Hey, how did you even get a gun in here? They check at security.”

  Lani laughed at me again, the same tinkling thing she did every week in the fake hallways of her fake high school with her fake best friend. I’m on Pippi Mississippi. I’m a star. You think anyone’s gonna frisk me?

  Suddenly I really, really hated that show.

  Now, time to take your final bow, Bender, she said, and I heard the gun cock at my side.

  I closed my eyes, sucked in a breath. Thought of Aunt Sue and wondered who was going to remind her to turn off the oven? To wear a scarf in the winter? To tip the pizza delivery boy when she burned dinner every night?

  And, oddly enough, I thought of Cal. How pissed he was going to be when he found my dead body. I didn’t want Cal’s last thoughts about me to be pissed ones.

  I felt a tiny tear gather in the corner of my eye, slipping down my cheek as the gun pressed painfully into my ribs. I waited for that last loud bang to go off.

  Only instead I heard the sound of motors whirling, gears turning. I looked down. The boats were starting to move in the moat again. The ride was back on.

  Shit, Lani mumbled, her gaze following mine as a boat full of tourists eased into the room.

  Quickly she herded me behind a display tower, fumbling in the curtain until she found an exit door. She pushed it open, shoving me out in front of her.

  The sudden onslaught of sunlight blinded me. I blinked, trying to make my eyes adjust, as Lani propelled me forward, gun still pressing into my ribs.

  Don’t try anything funny, she said. And I wondered what cheesy movie she’d gotten that line from. Only I knew better than to ask. She was one small step from the edge, and I didn’t want to be the first person she pulled over with her. Instead, I scanned the crowds suddenly at our sides for help.

  We were threading our way around the front of the Small World building, past the Matterhorn, into the thick of the Fantasyland crowd. Hundreds of people bounced against us on either side. Surely someone would notice the girl being held hostage with the gun.

  Or not.

  Have you ever noticed how self-contained most people are? Every single person in that place had blinders on, focused on making the most of their vacations, oblivious to the people around them. I sent pleading looks to the young families standing in line at the Tea Cups. I mouthed help me to the goth kids waiting for the Dumbo ride. I shot alarmed, eyebrows drawn together, desperate tilting of my head toward the chick with the gun looks to the older couple holding hands by the carousel.

  Nada.

  I hated people.

  There, Lani finally said behind me.

  I looked up to where she was pointing. Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

  We can have some privacy there, she said, pushing me forward.

  I bit my lip, seeing my chance at freedom growing smaller and smaller the closer we got to the castle. Luckily, the square was jam-packed with bodies, and it was slow going. The daily show of King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone was going on in front of the carousel, a guy in a Merlin costume directing a ten-year-old kid and his dad to step up to the stone and try their luck.

  A stroller knocked into me, a kid with a lollipop got pink goo on my leg, and a guy with nacho breath bumped into me and burped in my face. But no one saw the chick with the gun, shoving me just feet from certain death.

  Well, almost no one.

  That’s her! someone shouted.

  Instinctively, I spun around, expecting to see one of Lani’s fans pointing her out. Instead, I spied a bony little old lady in a pink tracksuit hanging off a lamppost, pointing toward me.

  Aunt Sue.

  I could have cried, I was so happy to see her. In fact, I’m not entirely sure my eyes didn’t leak a little.

  Now what? Lani hissed. Then she shoved me forward, knocking into a toddler who fell on his diapered butt and began to cry.

  Stop! Aunt Sue shouted. Stop that girl! She’s a murderer! She has my niece hostage!

  Unfortunately, already being in a state of Disney-altered reality, the crowd thought Aunt Sue was just part of the show. They all turned toward me, expectant smiles on their faces, waiting to see what the murderer and the hostage did next.

  Go! Lani urged. Ignore them!

  What choice did I have? I went.

  Unhand my niece! This time it was Aunt Millie’s voice. Or face the consequences.

  Oh yeah? Lani asked, spinning us both around to face her, showing the crowd her gun. And what would those be, old lady?

  Aunt Millie jumped (with surprising agility for a senior citizen) up to the Merlin platform. She pushed the kid out of the way, grabbed King Arthur’s sword with both hands, and pulled it from the stone with a loud grunt.

  The crowd cheered.

  Lani laughed that annoying faux-teen giggle again. And just what do you expect to do with that? She leveled the gun at Aunt Millie.

  The crow did the appropriate scared Oooooing.

  I would have rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation had the gun not been real and the person holding it not really insane.

  Aunt Millie! I warned.

  Too late.

  The gun went off, a crack shattering through the air. I held my breath, expecting Millie to fall, an ugly red stain through her midsection. Instead, she twisted the sword, the bullet pinging off the flashing steel.

  The crowd roared with approval.

  Lani look stunne
d.

  Millie look stunned.

  I felt faint.

  En garde! Millie shouted, jumping down from her perch, her bony ankles showing between her balled socks and her powder blue slacks.

  Lani, like the rest of the crowd, was momentarily stunned by the sight, and that was all that Millie needed, swiftly bringing the sword down on the hand holding the gun. Lani’s weapon clattered to the ground, and the tip of Millie’s sword went to the girl’s throat, the point making an uncomfortable indentation as Lani swallowed in fear.

  The crowd went wild, cheering, clapping, screaming. I only caught a few people whispering to each other, Is that how the story really goes?

  I saw Cal break through the crowd, a line of security officers behind him. They quickly descended on Lani, clasping her hands behind her back in a pair of cuffs.

  Me? I collapsed into Cal the second he got within arm’s reach, clinging for dear life to his solid, comforting chest, the adrenaline of the moment leaving me weak, relieved, and feeling like my limbs were made of jelly. His arms went around me, holding me tight.

  Jesus, don’t you ever do that to me again, Bender, he mumbled into my hair.

  I hung on tighter.

  When I finally loosened my grip, I looked up into his face. His dark eyes were a mixture of concern, anger, fear, and something else that made my stomach lurch into my chest.

  He licked his lips and leaned in close. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. And I wanted him to, no doubts about it this time. In fact, I have never wanted anyone to kiss me so badly in all my life.

  But at the last minute, he changed his mind, his eyes going guarded as he pulled away. An awkward vibe immediately filled the air between us.

  Luckily, before anyone could comment on it, more security guards descended on us.

  What happened here? one of them asked me.

  I detached myself from Cal and sniffed, realizing those damned tears were leaking out again. Aunt Millie saved me.

  Cal looked from Millie to the sword, still in her hands.

 

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