by Kim Askew
“Scratches,” Grady said. “But don’t worry, pretty boy. Your face will be spared. Too bad I cut the phone lines earlier tonight, huh?”
“Why do I get the feeling tonight’s string of robberies isn’t your first rodeo?”
“Well, aren’t you on the ball?” Grady said. “It’s true; I got sprung from the big house about two years back after doing a stint for check fraud.”
“Now you’ve moved on to fencing stolen goods. En garde!”
“Go ahead, joke,” Grady said. “That’s what they all do. You think I’m not aware of all the clever nicknames you punks have for me? The humiliating pranks? The endless ridicule? The spitwads thrown down at me from the upper floor? Everyone just thinks I’m some joke, some loser. I’ve put up with it my whole life.”
“Yeah, you and the millions of other people who got teased at recess. Boo-hoo. Getting picked on isn’t what makes you a loser. You’re a loser because you never figured out how to get over it.” Typical Caleb. His blunt response likely wasn’t going to help matters.
“This badge may not have ever earned the respect it deserved, but maybe a loaded weapon will.”
“Doubtful.” I cringed inwardly. Caleb, just shut up! “But if you were really as good at your ‘moonlighting gig’ as you seem to think, you wouldn’t have had to tie up Mike in the janitor’s locker room. Are you contemplating branching out into kidnapping?”
“No, idiot.” Grady seemed even more on edge now. “It was never part of my plan until he struggled with me and yanked off my ski mask. Stashing him out of sight was a bit of improv—until I could figure out what to do with him. Although I wouldn’t have had to resort to such extreme measures if I’d known that hitting him in the head with that bowling trophy would give him partial amnesia. But enough with the running commentary. I don’t owe you any explanations. No more talking.”
“Seems the damage is done,” Caleb shot back. “You’ve just spilled everything to us.” Grady let out a laugh that seemed gravely unbefitting the situation.
“You really don’t think I’d allow you to go to the authorities after this, do you?”
Ariel shot me a nervous glance. I knew she was expecting me to “pull a Miranda” right about now, but to be honest, I didn’t know what to do. Charging a gun-toting ex-con didn’t seem like the most prudent option.
“If you shoot us, everyone next door at Worthington’s is going to come running,” Chad said.
“Oh, but I’m not a killer. At least, not in the sense of someone who would ever get caught. Now oblige me by stepping into the walk-in freezer so we can conclude this nasty business.”
“Hate to break it to you pal, but you’ve tried this tactic on me already,” Caleb said. “It didn’t work.”
“The stock room at Radio Hut wasn’t kept at minus-ten degrees. And you don’t have that little tease, Miranda, to help keep you warm.”
“You leave Miranda the hell out of this!”
“Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. She’s certainly complicated what should have been some pretty cut-and-dry loot boosting. But I wouldn’t worry about her or that little Twinkle Toes she calls a friend. You’ll have a lot more to worry about when your bodies enter a state of profound hypothermia. You’ve heard the saying: Revenge is a dish best served cold? Rest assured, I’ll return periodically to check on you, and when I see that you’ve finally cashed in your chips, I’ll drag you out to a nearby snowbank. ‘An unfortunate weather-related accident,’ they’ll all say.”
Ariel gasped, but I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You don’t want to do this,” I heard Chad say before the freezer door slammed with a thud.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hark! Now I Hear Them—Ding-Dong, Bell
Had we not found the three of them when we did, Chad and Caleb might have been goners, but luckily, I knew we could fetch the guys from the freezer as soon as Grady left. I thought back to the game of chess Caleb and I had played earlier that night as I planned my strategy for freeing them, trying to think a few steps ahead. Grady would come unglued the minute he realized Chad and Caleb were missing, and we had to be prepared for his next move—but first things first.
I brought my fingers to my lips, signaling to Ariel that she shouldn’t move a muscle, and willed myself to be patient. Grady was still poking around the restaurant, and we both crouched lower to avoid detection. After a few minutes, the room grew quiet, and I slowly emerged from underneath the table, reasonably certain the coast was clear. Ariel was about to follow my lead when we heard a clattering from in the kitchen. Instinctively, I bolted on tiptoes to a nearby hall leading to the restrooms. (Thank god the floors were carpeted!) Ariel remained stranded under the table, when to my horror, Grady sauntered into the dining room casually holding a beer in his hand! He took a seat at a table only seven or eight feet from where Ariel crouched, and his back was to us as he sipped contemplatively from his bottle. If he so much as glanced around the room, he could hardly miss my barely concealed coworker. I stared in agony at my friend adrift out there in Grady’s midst, wishing I’d been gifted with the power to make her invisible.
From what I could tell, Grady seemed absorbed in his thoughts—it was now or never. I beckoned from the hallway for Ariel to make a run for it, but she just stared back at me with eyes like saucers, paralyzed with fear. I motioned to her again, more insistently now, prompting an ever-so-faint sound that filled me instantly with dread.
“Ding-ding-ding.” As Ariel shook her head vigorously in refusal, she’d inadvertently triggered the high-pitched knell of the dainty bell earrings that hung from her lobes. Things had just gone from bad to catastrophic.
Grady was instantly on his feet, nabbing Ariel by her spindly elbow before she could make a break for it.
“What are you doing here?!” he said, enraged, while shaking her like a snow globe.
“Nothing! I was just, er, sent down here to score some Grey Poupon. All we have is that bright yellow stuff, and the gourmands were revolting.”
“You were looking for mustard…?”
“Uh-huh!” Ariel gave one of her award-winning grins, a desperate-but-valiant effort.
“Under the table…?”
“Yeah! Well, no,” Ariel said, fumbling for words. “I lost my earring right around here, and oh—here it is! Duh! Well, I’d better be going, so—”
“Not so fast. Miranda would never have sent you down here alone.”
“Actually, Miranda didn’t send me. She’s been fast asleep behind the Hot-Dog Kabob counter for the the last forty-five minutes or so. Poor girl’s had a long night.” My heart was in my throat realizing that she was trying to save my butt. A more loyal friend could not have existed. Unfortunately, Grady wasn’t buying it.
“She’s here, you brat, isn’t she? Tell me where she is!” His back was still to me, but I was sure that within seconds, he’d be upending the place trying to find me. If I got caught, we’d all be SOL, and standing here in this dead-end hallway wasn’t going to protect me for much longer. There wasn’t time to deliberate or hatch a plan. I just had to act, and fast. While Grady continued trying to shake the truth from Ariel, I slipped sight-unseen toward the kitchen, heading straight for the walk-in freezer.
With as little sound as possible, I opened the door to Caleb and Chad’s cold crypt, holding a finger to my lips to warn them that silence was critical. As I whispered Ariel’s perilous circumstances, they locked eyes and, without words, seemed to form a joint plan. Then, like a commando in an elite Navy Seal team, Caleb motioned Chad forward and indicated that I should follow them.
The miscreant was still giving Ariel the third degree when they tackled him from behind. Caleb grabbed Grady’s gun from his waistband and pointed it at him while Chad bear-hugged him to the ground. (Seems I didn’t give football players enough credit!) Everyone in the room was panting for air by the time Grady was pinned face-down with the business-end of the pistol pointed firmly against his skull.
“What do
we do with him now?” I said. “It could be hours—or longer—before we can finally get the authorities here.”
“We’ve got to lock him up somewhere.” I could see it was an effort for Chad to keep the struggling captive restrained as he said this. I fretted over the possibility that Caleb might actually be tasked with using the gun on Grady if he managed to break free, and I was fairly certain Grady would be willing to call his bluff.
“Do you think there’s any rope or a chain somewhere around here to tie him up with—at least until we can figure out a better solution?” I scanned the dining room. A more vindictive person might have suggested putting him in the freezer like he had planned to do with Chad and Caleb, but that option was off the table. If I’d learned one thing today, it was that justice was always preferable to revenge.
“Miranda, you’ll have to go to Camperville and try to find something that’ll work,” said Caleb. “They’ve gotta sell some climbing rope—strong duct tape might even hold. Something to keep him immobile until the real cops can get here.”
“No way. I’m not leaving you. We’ll find something here.”
“Hey, guys—” Ariel said.
“Dude—quit wriggling if you don’t want an elbow in your face,” Chad warned Grady. He wasn’t going to be able to keep him pinned much longer.
“Hey, guys—” It was Ariel again, but I was onto another idea.
“If we could get those curtains down off the rod, we might be able to use them to truss him up … the fabric’s a little thick, but—”
“GUYS!!!!!” Ariel’s voice silenced us all, even Grady, who’d been taunting us and grousing this entire time. “Why don’t we use the handcuffs?”
“No way am I letting Caleb get chained to this guy,” I replied.
“Great idea, babe,” Chad smiled up sweetly at his girl. “But we can’t get even get the handcuffs open.”
“We don’t have the key,” Caleb said. Ariel glanced nervously at both Caleb and me, a rueful smile wavering tentatively on her face.
“Well, maybe we do.” She lowered her chin and fished one hand into the deep pocket of her jumper. I stared in astonishment as she produced a small silver key.
“YOU!!!!” Chad, Caleb, and I were a weary trio of slack-jaws. “When did you find the key?”
“Have you had it all along?” I said.
“Guilty as charged,” Ariel said, hanging her head sheepishly.
“Why on earth—?” I was majorly confused and slightly peeved. Being played by my prep school cohorts was one thing, but I’d never suspected it from the girl I considered my tried-and-true friend. Please let her have a good reason for deceiving me like this.
“I’m so sorry, Miranda. Caleb, you, too,” she said, hurrying over to him to release him from the manacle. Caleb slapped one of Grady’s wrists in the cuffs, then ushered him across the room to the salad bar, to which he affixed the other end of the steel shackles.
“We’ve been trying to find a way out of these all night,” I admonished her. “Why did you do this?”
“I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine. And I mean that in the best way possible.”
“I’m not in the mood for aphorisms. Cut the crap and explain yourself.”
“Oh come on, Miranda! You’re always pulling strings behind the scenes, setting the universe spinning along whatever orbit you dictate. So sue me if I decided to tie your hands for a while … and play matchmaker.”
“Say what?!” While I attempted to wrap my brain around her explanation, Caleb had started to softly chuckle.
“Oh, man,” he said with a laugh. “She totally stole a page from your playbook.”
“Oh, you think this is funny?”
“Yeah, actually, I do,” he said, hiding his grin with his fist.
“Matchmaker?!” I turned back to Ariel. “What makes you believe that yoking me to this yahoo would somehow make us fall hopelessly in love?”
“Seeing is believing.” Ariel wrapped her arm lovingly around Chad’s waist. He kissed her affectionately on top of the forehead. “As a matter of fact, my plan worked out even better than I’d expected it to. You guys are perfect for each other, whether you want to admit it or not.”
I crossed my arms in a demonstration of defiance and stormed off a few paces to brood—and blush.
CHAPTER TWENTY
We Are Such Stuff as Dreams Are Made On
Leaving Grady securely handcuffed in Teasers to await dawn and his punishment, we headed back down an empty Main Street toward the food court. The others were amped-up and giddy, eager to fill in everyone else on our white-knuckle adventure. But when we arrived at base camp, it was eerily quiet, as if a spell had been cast over the once-bustling epicenter of our night in captivity. The lights were dimmed and I immediately noticed that the rest of our informal bunch had hunkered down in makeshift bedrolls, finally too exhausted not to yield to slumber’s succor.
“Should we wake them?” Ariel said as we trod noiselessly over our snoozing chums.
“Not now,” I said sotto voce, pulling a fleece blanket emblazoned with neon-colored handprints up over Alfredo’s shoulders. “It’s so peaceful.”
Chad walked over to our retinue of supplies from earlier, shuffled around for a bit, and then, in the dim light, headed back to us.
“There are only two pillows and two blankets left,” he said in a low voice, beginning to spread them out on the floor. “You girls go ahead and lie down for a few hours. Caleb and I can tough it out.”
“No way!” Ariel said, stifling a yawn. Sleep had begun to beckon us, thanks to the darkness of the food court and the intensity of our night-long ordeal. “Chad, sweetie, you take one pillow and I’ll snuggle with you. We’ll share a blanket.” Wow, for someone who’d never even gone on a date before, she’d adapted to her new role as girlfriend like a seasoned pro. Good for her, though it admittedly felt strange that the idol-worship she had once reserved for me was now being lavished on someone else. The little lark had up and left the proverbial nest, a fact that made me feel proud, but not without some poignancy. Ariel looked my way as if urging me to make a similar sleeping arrangement offer. I glanced at Caleb warily, not sure what to say.
“It’s all right,” he said, letting me off the hook. “You’ve been stuck with me for the last eight hours. I’d say you paid your dues. I’ll be fine over here.” He took a seat and leaned back against a nearby wall, folding his arms and stretching his legs out before him. He closed his eyes, and I stared at him for a moment, admiring his strong jawline and that adorable cleft in his chin. The nerves in my body seemed miffed that he was five feet away instead of the five inches that had separated us for most of the night. I missed matching my gait to his, the protective security of his stalwart presence, and the reassuring touch of his hand in mine. The faint sound of breathing and soft snores could be heard in the room, and I knew Ariel and Chad were off in cuddle heaven under a table near Fro-Yo-Yo across the room. I sat up from my pillow and glanced at him again.
“The floor’s really cold.” His head was still tilted back against the wall, but at the sound of my voice his eyes perked open to look at me, quizzically. I waited for him to say something, but he only nodded his agreement and closed his lids again. Damn it. I’ll need to try another gambit.
“Your back might get all jacked-up sleeping against the wall like that.” He didn’t even open his eyes this time.
“I’ll be fine.” He either couldn’t take a hint or he was having fun making me beg.
“Well, umm, it’s a pretty big blanket—meant for a king-sized bed, I think. Maybe we could draw an imaginary line down the pillow and split it or something. Like you said, we’ve been together all night. A few more hours isn’t going to kill us.”
As if capitulating, he gave a knowing smile and slowly got to his feet. I wriggled my head to the far end of my pillow and threw open the down comforter to give him entree to our little cocoon.
Relieved to have him back by my side�
��or maybe just too tired to care about appearance’s sake anymore—I snuggled against him and drifted off to sleep, a storm-tossed skiff now safely in harbour.
• • •
“Rise and shine, campers! Shake it off! Wake up! Wake up!”
Groans, coughs, and a distant, “But I don’t wanna go to school!” roused me from my warm slumber. I rolled over sleepily, my eyes still closed, and felt a warm breath on my face. Huh?! Caleb startled and blinked, seemingly as surprised as I was to find himself waking up next to me. The food court’s fluorescent overhead lights were back on now, and with my lids at half-mast, I surveyed the scene.
The court was a sight to behold—you’d have thought we were the last remaining survivors of a postapocalyptic wasteland. Tables and potted plants were overturned. Food and condiments had been splattered, Jackson Pollack–like, across most of the counters. One of the red plastic trays had (god knows how) lodged itself in the fancy crystal chandelier, and “The Mariner” had been filled to overflowing with used plastic cups and straws—if we’d accomplished nothing else last night, we’d at least managed to drink our weight in soda.
Our food court manager, Randall, was walking through the mess in his boots and winter parka, gently nudging some of the deeper sleepers awake.
“Up and at ’em, guys,” he said, kicking a few of the errant wheeled janitorial buckets out of the way.
“What time is it?” Riley asked, unwittingly displaying an epic case of bedhead. I died a little inside wondering what kind of national disaster I must have resembled.
“It’s quarter to nine,” Randall said. “We’ve got a plow and a crew with shovels out in the parking lot right now extricating the cars.”
“You mean we can go home?” Caleb said, still reclining on his elbow under the blanket.
“Soon. They plowed and salted most of the main roads, but the secondary roads are still pretty hazardous. They’re predicting warmer temperatures today, which should help. You guys were wise to stay put last night.”