Payback Time (21 page)

I'd crossed the street and started toward the athletic fields when a voice called out to me. "You cutting class, Mitchie?" It was purple-haired Laurie Walloch. She was sitting, cigarette in hand, on a four-foot retaining wall in front of a condo development on which all work had stopped.

I smiled. "Actually yeah, I am."

She blew out a long stream of blue smoke. "I never thought a good boy like you would cut class. You want one?" Laurie held out her package of cigarettes.

"No, but thanks."

I started off, and then I realized that Laurie spent more time outside the school than in it. If there was a strange car cruising the area, she'd spot it way before I would. I turned back. "I'm not really cutting."

Laurie smiled. "It's okay, Mitch. I won't tell your mom."

"No, really. I'm actually looking for some gang guys who might be cruising the school. Maybe you could help."

"What kind of car?" she asked.

"That's it. I don't know."

"What's this about?" Laurie said, interested in something for once.

"It's for a story. I'm on the school newspaper."

"That's cool, Mitch. Kind of a mystery. I'll keep my eyes open."

"Thanks," I said, and then another thought came. "You don't spend all day outside, do you? You go to some classes, right?"

"Mornings I hang out here. If I get real cold, I go there." She nodded toward the half-built condos. "Most days I eat lunch in the commons, and in the afternoons I take pottery and then Navigation 101 with Ms. Laird. But don't worry—if these guys come around, I'll spot them."

I left Laurie and walked around the school, feeling awkward and out of place. After I finished my circuit, I spent forty minutes at Zestos sipping a cup of coffee and listening to fifties music played way too loud through speakers way too old to handle the volume. Before the hour ended, I checked back with Laurie. "Nothing," she said.

I returned to the school. As I was heading in, Kimi was coming out. "You won't have to cut any morning classes," I said, pulling her to the side and explaining about Laurie.

"Do you think she'll pay attention? She sounds spacy."

"She'll pay attention. And she won't stick out like you and I would. If somebody is hunting for Angel, and they see you or me on the sidewalk, watching, they'll notice us. Laurie belongs out there."

 

I couldn't pay attention in my morning classes. I felt lightheaded, as if I hadn't eaten in a week. I wondered if Kimi was able to focus any better. At lunchtime I met up with her in the hall, and we went together to check with Laurie.

As soon as Laurie saw us, she came off her perch by the condo, flicked a cigarette to the ground, and grinned. "I think I saw your guys," she said, her voice excited. "Between second and third period, and then again between third and fourth. A black Honda Civic hatchback with tinted windows. They might have been here last week, too. They cruised really slow, but the weird thing is that they had no music going, and it's the kind of car with the kind of guys that you'd expect to really rock. They were checking out everybody who came out of the building. Once the passing period ended and kids headed back into the school, they were out of here. There!" she said, pointing. "There they are now."

My knees felt as if they were made out of Jell-O, but somehow I managed to turn and watch a Civic creep slowly past the Lincoln High parking lot. The windows facing the parking lot were down an inch or two; the other two windows—the windows facing us—were tightly shut.

Once the Civic passed the parking lot, it sped up, raced around the block, and then made another silent pass, again slowly inching its way. I couldn't see the guys inside, but I could feel their eyes scanning the groups of kids, searching. I looked to Kimi; her face was pale.

On the second pass, just before the car sped off, I remembered the license number. I looked, preparing to commit the numbers and letters to memory, but instead of real plates the Civic had a temporary license taped to the back window. Worse, the tape had come loose, and the temporary license had half slipped. All I could see were the letters
RZ.
Maybe the third letter was
T,
but it might have been
F
or even
B.
I couldn't read any of the numbers. And then the car sped up again, down the block and away.

"Those are your guys, right?" Laurie said, smiling.

"You've never seen that car before?" Kimi asked.

Laurie looked her over. "You're Kimi something, right?"

"Kimi Yon."

Laurie grinned at her. "You got a thing for Mitch, Kimi?" She turned to me. "Mitch, you got a girl? You lost weight, didn't you?"

"We work together on stories for the newspaper. She's the photographer and I'm the writer."

"Have you seen that car before?" Kimi asked again.

"I told you—not before last week," Laurie answered. Then she paused. "What's this really about, anyway? Both of you look kind of sick."

Kimi and I returned to the school. We had a few minutes before fifth period began, so we ducked into the newspaper office. Kimi plunked herself down on the old sofa; I sat in the oversize chair. "Did you notice the license plate?" I asked.

"I saw it," she said, her eyes on the carpet. "Or maybe I should say I didn't see it."

"Do you think it was that way on purpose?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

 

That night my parents worked late again. I microwaved a frozen chicken dinner and ate alone. Later, as I was heading upstairs, the phone rang. I went into my dad's small office to answer. "Is this the True residence?" a male voice asked. He sounded like one of my parents' delivery drivers calling to say he was quitting.

"Yeah, this is the True residence, but my parents aren't home. Can I take a message?"

"Are you Mitch True?"

"Yeah, I'm Mitch. Is there a message?"

Instead of answering, whoever it was cut the connection.

Immediately I hit
Call back
to retrieve the number. What I didn't want to see was a Philadelphia area code. What I saw were the words
Private Party,
and that was no better.

How could they have traced me? It wasn't possible. And then I saw the answer right in front of me. My dad's fax machine. I'd used it to send the photo of Angel to that guy in Philadelphia, and he'd used a reverse dictionary to find me. If he could get my home phone number, he could get my address.

My mom and dad came home about an hour later. I went down and talked with them a little. Before I returned to my room, I double-checked the dead bolt on both the front and back doors.

B
EFORE SCHOOL ON
W
EDNESDAY,
I found Laurie Walloch in her normal spot. She was sharing a smoke with her friend Lynn. "You going to be out here this morning?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure. Where else?" Laurie answered.

I gave her my cell number. "If the Civic shows up, text me. Okay?"

"Okay," Laurie said, "but only because you've always been nice to me. I'm not liking the feel of this."

 

All morning I waited for my cell phone to vibrate, but it never did. I kept thinking about how stupid I'd been to tell the Juan Doe guy that Angel went to Lincoln High. If I'd kept my mouth shut, he'd have had no chance of tracking Angel down—and no reason to track me down, either. At lunch I checked with Laurie and Lynn. "No Honda Civic," Laurie said, blowing on the ash of her cigarette. "Just a normal day."

Laurie and Lynn went into Lincoln for their afternoon classes, so I cut fifth period and stayed outside. No black Civic hatchback. Kimi cut sixth while I went to class. No black Civic hatchback.

Thursday played out the same: no Civic in the morning, no Civic in the afternoon. I told myself not to worry. The guys in the Civic weren't after Angel. They had no ties with Philadelphia. They were just cruising Lincoln, probably hoping to pick up girls. Everything was going to be all right.

Friday morning I sleepwalked through my first three periods. Fourth period was canceled for a pep rally before lunch. The local TV stations had crews out, and enough students showed up to fill the gym. Down on the basketball court McNulty had his players sitting on gray folding chairs under the north basket. I scanned the faces twice, afraid that I'd see Angel, but he wasn't there. I breathed a sigh of relief. Kimi was on the gym floor, too, taking photos for the
Lincoln Light.

The assembly opened with the school president reciting the Pledge of Allegiance while all the kids in the bleachers talked. Then the lights went off, and the librarian showed a ten-minute highlight film some parent—probably Horst's mother—had put together. Next the cheer team came out and did flips while the band played Lincoln's fight song. After that, the vice principal, Bertha Brown, took the podium. "Other Lincoln High clubs and programs have also done well this fall, and we need to honor them. The chess club placed—"

That's when my cell phone vibrated. I pulled it out and flipped it open. I'd gotten a two-word text from Laurie Walloch: BLACK CIVIC.

For a moment I sat paralyzed. But then I searched the gym floor for Kimi. She was crouched, her back to me, taking pictures of the chess players as they received medals. I looked to the stage area and saw at least twenty more kids waiting to get some plaque or ribbon. She wouldn't look back toward me for five or ten minutes, at least. I couldn't wait.

I worked my way out of the bleachers and exited the gym through a side door. A minute later I was across the street. As soon as I caught Laurie Walloch's eye, she looked east, toward the baseball field. I followed her gaze and saw the Civic, gliding slowly down the street.

I needed the license number. With it, I could go to McNulty. If he didn't do anything, I could go to the police myself. Would the Civic make another circuit of the school, or was this my last chance?

I started running. So long as the car didn't speed up, I could catch it. If I was lucky, the temporary license would be taped to the window like it was supposed to be. One good look was all I needed.

For the first fifty yards, I was gaining ground, but then the Civic accelerated. I left the sidewalk to get clear of kids milling around and ran right down the middle of the street. They were pulling away, but then I caught a break. A pickup truck from an intersecting street cut in front of the Civic, forcing it to slow.

I was gaining on it again. I could see the license was properly taped up in the rear window. That made sense too. If the police couldn't see the license, they'd pull those guys over, and they didn't look as though they'd want to be talking to cops about anything. Adrenaline kicked in, pushing me faster and faster. A few more strides and I'd be close enough.

Right then the Civic swung left and abruptly pulled to a stop, brakes squealing. Both doors opened and two guys jumped out. Dark hair, dark glasses, dark clothes. "You chasing us?" the driver shouted, walking toward me.

I stopped. My heart, already racing, went to fast-forward. I shook my head. "No." I looked behind me. The school parking lot was filled with kids, but it was a football field away. I headed sideways, slipping between two cars and back onto the sidewalk.

One guy was pointing his finger at me. "Come here," the other guy was saying. "We want to talk to you."

I shook my head. "I don't know you," I said, and I turned and started running back toward the parking lot of the school, looking over my shoulder as I ran.

"And you don't want to know us, either," the same guy shouted, taking a couple of steps toward me.

I peeked back over my shoulder every few yards as I ran. They watched me, both of them, until I'd reached the safety of the school parking lot. Then they got back in their car and drove away.

I kept running until I was inside the school. Only then did I stop and catch my breath. I looked up and saw Kimi. Quickly I explained what had happened.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" she said angrily.

"I couldn't, Kimi. There was no time."

"Did you get the license number?"

I shook my head. "They saw me and came after me. There were two of them for sure, and maybe two more in the back. I had to get away fast."

A
FTER SCHOOL
I
DID MY REGULAR RUN.
I was feeling edgy, and running always shuts down my mind. Only that day it didn't. If I'd just gone a few more steps forward, I'd have seen the license plate. Ten more feet—that was all I'd needed. So what if they'd caught me? They'd have pushed me around a little, maybe even hit me. I'd have come out of it okay, and I'd have had the license number.

That night I ate dinner with my parents and then went to my room. I knew I couldn't study, so I tried to read
Childhood's End,
an old sci-fi book I'd always liked. I'd get through a couple of pages, but I wouldn't remember anything. Finally, I put the book down.

I thought about calling the police, but what was the point? Some cop would answer and write stuff down, but I had no facts. Nothing would come of it. Without McNulty backing me up, I'd be some crazy kid with a wild imagination. And there was no point in e-mailing or calling McNulty again—he'd made that clear.

The cops were out, which left ... what? How could I stop a bunch of gangsters? Maybe Kimi's father could face them down, or Angel, or even Horst. But Mitch True?

My mind went back to the Tacoma Dome and the players' gate. I could see the chute—long and narrow with high concrete walls on both sides. I knew where the danger would come from. Angel heading from the stadium toward the parking lot ... the black Civic pulling up ... the window rolling down, followed by the sounds of gunfire ... the car speeding off.

My mind stopped right at that phrase.

The car speeding off.

An idea came to me like a bolt of lightning.

I stood up and paced the room, and the idea turned into a plan. I grabbed the Focus keys from my desk and hurried downstairs. "Where are you going, Dan?" my mom asked me as I pulled on my shoes.

"I need to get something at Big Five."