Hollywood Scream Play (9 page)

“But—Carl killed both of them!”

“Until we can prove it, we’re considered murderers. Listen, you grab Trisha and Mary. I’ll pick up Jeff. We’ll rendezvous at Hilldale Mall, in front of the Cineplex. We can hide out in the movies until we can figure out where we go from here.” He hesitates. “You know, Donna, it might mean leaving the country.”

“I…I know that.” I can barely think, I’m so upset. “But I’m not going without the children! I can’t leave them here with Carl!”

“That will never happen. At least, not while either of us is alive.”

The task at hand is to stay that way, despite what Carl has in store for us.

My first stop is Hilldale Elementary for my youngest daughter, Trisha. She loves her school, but movies are her passion. She’ll look forward to playing hooky.

She may have to get used to it, until I research which countries don’t have extradition clauses with the United States.

I turn my head, pretending to peruse the trophy case, just as two men in black suits and dark glasses march into the lobby. Identifying themselves to the receptionist as NSA agents, they then tersely request to speak to the principal, Miss Darling.

At first, the receptionist is flustered. But she quickly buzzes her boss.

Because the back of the trophy case is mirrored, I’m able to witness Miss Darling’s reaction to the news that Jack and I are persons-of-interest, and that should either of us come for Trisha, she should call them immediately. In fact, they’ll be in the parking lot, to see if they can intercept me prior to pick-up.

Miss Darling’s faint nod assures them that she understands the severity of their mission. But as she catches my eye in the mirror, she mouths, 
go
.

I will forever be in her debt.

In fact, this has convinced me to volunteer as the chairwoman for the school’s live auction. I vow that it will be the most successful fundraiser in the history of the school. Of course, with what she’s just been told by the NSA, I wouldn’t blame her if she makes me swear on a stack of Bibles that none of the auction money raised was stolen from the US Treasury.

Miss Darling invites them into her office while she fills out a parking lot permit for them. “I’d hate for one of our volunteer parking monitors to have you towed. The parents here can be pretty aggressive. You know how it is when a little power goes to one’s head.”

With Carl in charge, I guess they’ve already found out. Now, I have, too.

After she shuts her office door, I move quickly toward Trisha’s classroom. Her teacher, Miss McGonagall, sees me, and motions for Trisha, who runs to me.

I can’t go out the front entrance because the NSA agents are, once again, in the front lobby. While a couple of fourth graders corner the NSA agents to ask if their guns have real bullets, Trisha and I slip out a side door.

No need to give them a reason to prove it.

I pray I don’t have the same reception waiting for me at Hilldale High School. Mary already considers her family just borderline presentable. A perp walk in front of her peers will be just the sort of embarrassment that will have her begging off school for the rest of her life.

She may just get her wish.

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life! Mom, why did you have the principal pull me out of my chemistry class—during the middle of a test, no less?” Mary jumps into the SUV, slamming the door behind her. She stares at Trisha, then turns to me. “What’s Trisha doing here?”

“We’re playing hooky!” her little sister declares.

Before I turn around to face her, I lift my lips into an innocent smile. “I thought you wouldn’t mind. Kids your age are under too much pressure.” I hate lying to her, but better that than having her learn that her parents are now on the lam.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ll give you a list of all my test days. Of course, then they’ll hold me back and I’ll never get into college.”

“See? You just proved my point. You worry too much! And besides, your father has a new project that will take us on the road—for quite some time, the way it looks now. He wants us to join him, which will give us the chance for some real family adventures—starting today, in fact.”

Mary’s eyes narrow. “In the middle of a school year?”

“Sure, why not? I’ll clear it with your principals. You can turn in your homework via email.”

“I don’t know. I mean…well, I guess it makes sense—since we didn’t have much of a vacation last summer.”

She’s got a point there. We may have been on a resort called Fantasy Island, but that tropical paradise was anything but fun and games. Jack and I were almost killed—he, by pygmies, and me, by a cannibal serial killer. Did I mention I was almost sold into slavery? Some vacation. No five-star Expedia review there.

Then we came home to a few intense weeks of guarding presidential candidates. Despite keeping them alive, we couldn’t keep their campaigns from imploding in one scandal after another. As it turns out, the top contender—my old high school frenemy, Catherine Martin—didn’t win after all. It may have had something to do with the hit she put out on her own husband. Go figure.

She is now in prison. Mary stays in touch with her teenage son, Evan, who is finishing his junior year back in DC. Having been there when his life was destroyed by the loss of both his parents has made Mary quite introspective these days.

All the more reason she can’t lose Jack or me right now.

So I put on my best Mary Poppins happy face. “First stop, the mall,” I say brightly. “We’re meeting the boys there, to take in a family movie.”

Here’s hoping there’s not a SWAT team waiting for us when we get there.

We pull up to the rendezvous spot—in front of the Hilldale Mall Cineplex to discover that the boys are already there.

By boys, I mean Jack and Jeff—and surprise, surprise, Jeff’s two besties, Cheever Bing and Morton Smith.

Seeing them, I don’t know who groans the loudest—Mary, Trisha, or me.

“I thought you said this was going to be a family outing,” Mary grumbles.

“I’m just as surprised to see the Two Stooges as you are.” I slip Trisha out of her seat belt and booster seat. “Take your sister inside to the movie snack bar, while I see why we’re being made to suffer.”

Slapping Cheever on the back of the head, Morton shouts, “Last one in is a rotten egg.”

Cheever grabs Morton in a headlock and smacks him with a noogie. “What are you talking about? The only one who smells as if he crapped in his pants is you!”

Jack is quite adept at reading the look on my face. “Look, before you blame me for this, let’s just say that it was easier to dodge the NSA agents by having all three boys with me. The last place they were staking out was the carpool lane. Besides, had I left Cheever and Morton at the school without a ride, we’d have more to worry about from mommy dearest, Penelope Bing, than any NSA agents.”

Aw, heck, I forgot it was our afternoon to carpool. “Okay, so now what do we do with them? If we cross the border, it’s kidnapping!”

“After the movie, we’ll toss them out of the car in front of their homes. In the meantime, they’ll keep the others occupied while we figure out what’s happening.” He pulls out his cell. “I’ll try to reach Ryan while you go in there and try to keep the peace.”

If only the roles were reversed—for the kids’ sake, not mine. If Cheever and Morton start their shenanigans during the film, there won’t be any “happily ever after” ending.

The snack bar line is snaking through the lobby. The hold-up is Cheever. I can barely see his head over the humongous bag of popcorn in his arms.

“Mommy, is Cheever going to share with us?” Trisha asks.

Cheever finds this idea so ludicrous that he doubles over in laughter. This causes him to tilt his Giganta-Gulp drink cup. The seven candy bars slip out of his hands, too. I catch them before he drops everything. The last thing I need is to have him begin his trip to bountiful all over again.

“This is enough food for a small third-world country,” I admonish him.

“That’s because Mr. Stone says he’s treating.” He nods towards the register. “So, pay the cashier, okay?”

“That would mean taking out a small loan,” I grumble, but I do as I’m told.

I’m about to follow Trisha into the theater showing the latest gem from Pixar when I notice the boys heading toward the latest Quentin Tarantino movie. I grab Jeff by the collar. “No, no, no, no! You and your friends are staying with us.”

Jeff looks horrified. “Mom, we’re not seeing some baby movie!”

Morton shakes his head adamantly. “What if someone sees us go in there?”

I can’t tell him this, but that’s the whole point—that no one finds us.

“To hell with that,” Cheever chimes in. “We’ll be the laughingstock of the whole middle school!”

“Pixar films are witty, and appropriate for any age,” I argue. “The animation is always cutting edge.”

My argument is falling on deaf ears. From Mary’s wince, I can tell she agrees with the Two Stooges.

I’m adamant about one thing. “We’re sticking together. There are seventeen films here, so let’s take a vote.”

The children scan the marquees that run down the long corridor in front of us.

“I vote for 
She’s So Hot
,” Cheever says.

Trisha stares at the movie’s poster, which features a big-breasted blonde being ogled by three men. Tiny horns on her head and the smoke billowing around her barely-there red negligee are supposed to give viewers the impression that the actress is a she-devil. “Mommy, why are her clothes too small?” she asks.

Jeff can’t peel his eyes away from the poster, either. “Heck yeah, I second that motion.”

“I third it,” Morton chimes in.

Cheever shoves him. “You can’t ‘third’ something, you moron.”

I stand in front of the poster, but no amount of arm-waving will break the spell it has on my son. “Nope! Not an option. Any movie we choose together must be PG-rated, and no higher.”

Jack sprints over to us. “This is the one we’re seeing? Great! Super! Let’s get in there before we miss all those great coming attractions.”

The boys hi-five each other as they scurry in.