Playing with Fire (4 page)

“Let's take a break,” says Cameron. But they've barely stopped playing and gotten sodas from the kitchen when Mrs. Brow is on their case to start playing again.

It's about eight thirty when a large crowd of kids finally bursts into the house with Amanda in their midst. I can tell Amanda's parents are miffed at their daughter, but they do a pretty good job of concealing it as they bring out a huge cake, and the band plays a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday to You.” The house gets louder and fuller, and after a while Amanda's parents and their older friends sort of disappear. I'm not sure if they've left the residence completely or simply retreated to a different room. But the party definitely begins to get wilder. And it's obvious that alcohol has been sneaked into the house and equally obvious that some of the kids are overdoing it.

I can tell by Olivia's expression that she's not appreciating this chaotic atmosphere, but she's being a good sport and singing well, and some of the guests actually seem to be enjoying the music. But when the band takes its second break a little past ten thirty, Olivia takes Garrett and me aside.

“I don't feel good about this,” she tells us. “Kids are getting seriously drunk.”

“That's not all.” Garrett nods at a particularly rowdy group of partyers clustered on the patio by the pool. “I heard a guy in the kitchen bragging about how he snagged a bunch of ecstasy before coming here. He's handing it out to girls like it's candy.”

“No way!” Olivia's blue eyes get big. “And do they really think it's candy?”

He shakes his head. “Only if they're totally stupid… or drunk.”

“I don't like this either.” I glance over my shoulder to where a girl has just been tossed into the pool. Now I'm sure the pool is heated, but it's like sixty degrees out and not exactly swimming weather.

“I'll tell Cameron that I'm leaving,” says Olivia. “They can have my share of tonight's earnings.”

The guys in the band are just returning from their break and look pretty ticked at Olivia as she explains the situation. But she stands her ground, and finally Cameron acts like he gets it and waves her away.

That's what you get for asking little Miss Goody-Goody to sing in the band,” Jack says in a fairly loud voice.

“Hey, you should be happy,” Garrett tells him. “Now you can take over vocals and put an end to this party.”

Jack glares at Garrett, and for one very uncomfortable moment, I think maybe Jack is going to punch my lab partner. I grab Garrett by the arm. “Let's get outta here.” I tug him toward the back door.

But when we get back to Olivia's car, we realize that it's totally blocked in by the other cars. “There's no way I
can get out of here,” she says. We look at the cars wedged in all around us and see that it's hopeless.

“If the caterers could move their rig,” says Garrett, pointing at the white van parked next to the edge of the driveway, “you could probably slip out on that side if you were careful.”

“Yeah,” says Olivia. “I think you're right. I'll go ask them now.”

Garrett and I stay outside and wait by the car, but when a couple of guys get into a fight over a girl just a few feet away from us, we actually step in and make a feeble attempt to break it up. Fortunately, it seems like one of the guys is not in a serious fighting mood, not to mention he's pretty drunk, and he appears relieved to be interrupted.

“You need to go home and sleep it off,” Garrett tells him. Then the feistier guy starts swearing at Garrett and asking him if he wants to fight.

“No, he doesn't want to fight,” I tell the guy. “See ya around.” Then I grab Garrett by the arm again, tugging him off to where Olivia is finally emerging from the house.

“The caterer will be out in a few minutes,” she announces. “She says she just needs to pack up some of her stuff and get out of there. Man, that party's getting totally crazy. I can't believe Amanda's parents don't care. How can they possibly not hear all this noise?”

“Because they're not home,” Garrett informs us.

“How do you know?” I ask.

“I saw their car leaving awhile ago. Didn't you notice, Sam?”

“Obviously not, but I'm glad to know you don't miss a thing.”

“Let's wait in the car,” Olivia says in a tired voice. “I'll put in a CD, and we can just chill for a while.”

So we get into her car, and she slips in a Jennifer Knapp CD. We lean back and listen while we wait for the caterer to move her van.

“It's been almost a half hour,” I complain to Olivia. “Maybe you should go see if she forgot about—” In that same instant, a bright light shines in the car window, and someone is knocking loudly on the driver's side. Olivia opens the window a crack, and a loud male voice tells us to get out of the car.

“It's a cop!” says Garrett.

I squint to see through the glaring light and realize that once again Garrett is absolutely right. It is a cop. In fact, it's two cops. And not ones I recognize.

“You kids have some drugs in there?” asks one.

“No, of course not,” exclaims Olivia.

“That's not what we were told,” says the cop. “Now, everyone, get out slowly and put your hands on top of the car.”

As we're doing this, the other cop shines a flashlight around the interior of the car. Then he bends down and reaches into the backseat and removes something from the floor, but I can't see what it is. I assume it's a soda cup or something, although Olivia usually keeps her car pretty tidy.

“What are they looking for?” Olivia whispers to me in a quavery voice.

“They probably think we've been drinking,” I say. “We can easily prove that we haven't.”

Then the cop removes Olivia's and my bags and Gar-rett's backpack and sets them on the hood. He continues
his senseless search, then finally says something to the cop who is watching us, something we can't hear. And before we know what's happening, we are being arrested and frisked and loaded into a patrol car.

“How can they just arrest us like that?” asks Garrett. “Without any evidence or anything?”

“I don't know,” I admit.

“Look.” Olivia points toward her car, where one of the cops is holding up something, showing it to the other cop. “What's that in his hand?”

“It looks like a Ziploc bag,” I say. “Probably just some garbage you left in your car.”.

“I do not leave garbage in my car. Did you guys leave something there?”

“Not me.” Garrett shakes his head.

“I didn't either,” I tell her. “Don't worry. It's probably nothing.”

“Yeah,” says Garrett. “It looks empty.”

As it turns out, we are informed at the police station that the bag wasn't completely empty. And unfortunately for Olivia and Garrett and me, they are convinced that it has trace amounts of methamphetamines in it, so it's being tested in the lab, and we now have a lot of explaining to do.

I
t seems a little ironic that you were the one who was I worried about
me
getting into trouble tonight,” Mom says as she drives away from the police station at a little past midnight. I've already explained to her what happened, right after I told the whole story to Eric Reinhart, the cop who took my statement, a guy I already know from working with Ebony. He knows that I work for the police and that I have a “special gift.” So how embarrassing was that? But at least he seemed to understand. He told me not to worry about it, that it'd work itself out. That's a whole lot more than I can say for my mom, who seems intent on torturing me a little bit longer.

“I told you that
wasn't
our bag,” I say for like the hundredth time.

She sort of laughs. “Well, I'm fairly certain it wasn't
yours
, Samantha. But how do you know about your friends? Not that I can imagine Olivia being into that sort of thing. But what about that Garrett character? We don't know much about him, and he did try to kill himself last month. That instability might be symptomatic of an addiction problem.”

“I seriously don't think Garrett is a user.” I fold my arms across my chest and stare out the passenger window.

Why is my mom being like this? I mean, sure, she didn't like having to come to the police station to pick me up, but it's not like this whole thing was my fault either. So why does she start assuming one of us really is guilty? Olivia admitted to everyone that she'd forgotten to lock her doors tonight. Probably the result of bossy Mrs. Brow telling her to move her car after she'd parked it once. It's entirely possible that someone actually got into the backseat of Olivia's car, did some drugs back there, then left their stupid Ziploc bag behind. Or maybe someone wanted to frame us and tossed in a piece of evidence and then told the cops.

Otherwise, why would the cops come looking for us? Sure, they were breaking up the party, probably because it was so loud, and I'm guessing the neighbors complained. Consequently, quite a few kids (the ones who didn't make it out in time) got arrested for “minor in possession” and other alcohol-related charges. But what made the police head for Olivia's car? All these questions are tumbling through my head, and it doesn't help matters to have my mom pointing the finger at Garrett just now. I'm mad enough not to talk to her. For her to try to link his suicide attempt to a drug-addiction problem is just plain mean.

Seriously, I don't think Garrett uses anything, but I don't know this for an absolute fact. And it's possible that a person who has been through as much as Garrett might turn to a substance to relieve his pain, to sort of self-medicate, but I don't think that's the case with him. It just doesn't ring true. He seems too smart to get messed up with something like meth.

Then I think of Zach. He was smart too. Before he started dabbling in drugs, he was at the top of his class. Suddenly I'm thinking that maybe I don't have the slightest clue about any of this crud. I am in way over my head. Mostly I want to forget the whole thing. I want to go to bed, then wake up and find out this whole evening was just another bad dream. What does any of this really have to do with me anyway? I didn't have anything to do with that stupid Ziploc bag, and I don't have anything to do with drugs. Then I remember last night's dream. I remember the heat of that fire and the stench of the smoke and my conclusion that it was somehow drug related. What was that all about? I sense it was from God, but why? And suddenly I wonder about Garrett. He was the one in the backseat. It's not like I was watching him. Maybe God knows that Garrett has a problem maybe my dream was a warning for Garrett.

And yet, he seemed as shocked as we were by the discovery of that bag. On the other hand, Garrett is wicked smart. And he's a good actor too. He had me totally fooled about being suicidal. And then he nearly jumped off that bridge. Maybe Mom is right about him. Maybe I'm clueless. Even so, I won't give in to her about this tonight. I will remain loyal to my friend.

“Sorry I ruined your evening,” I say as I get out of the car. I'm trying to sound sincere, but I have a feeling she doesn't hear it like that.

“Well, I'm going to leave it to you to sort this thing out,” she says as she unlocks the door. “I'm guessing that between Ebony and your other police friends, it should be no problem.”

I want to say “duh,” but that would sound pretty disrespectful. Still, it's better than what I'm thinking of saying, like,
Don't I always sort out my own life, Mom?
Or like,
Since when have you been very involved in my life anyway?
But I don't say these spiteful things. I just go to my room and restrain myself from slamming the door. Then I pray for God to change my heart.

The next morning Olivia picks me up, according to the plan we made last night. We both decided that we're not going to take this crud without a fight.

“So your dad got your car back with no problems?” I ask as I climb in.

“Sometimes it helps being the city attorney.”

“Meaning he pulled some strings?”

“I wouldn't say that. But'he does know his way around the legal system.’ He knows how to play the game.”

“I still can't believe what happened last night,” I say as she drives us to the police station. Our plan is to talk to Ebony this morning. I called earlier to set it up. Fortunately, she was at the station and had already heard about our little ordeal.

“My mom keeps saying that it was probably just a careless, random sort of thing, and we should just forget all about it, but my dad's not so sure. He thinks it was a setup. But then, of course, he thinks like a lawyer.”

“But if it was a setup, who would've done it?”

“Well, I don't like to make accusations, but Jack McAllister seems a fairly obvious suspect.”

“Yeah, I'd thought of him too.”

“The band had a couple of breaks last night, and like usual, Jack took off by himself, so who knows what he
was up to. Usually I assume he's just grabbing a cigarette, but after what Garrett said, well, I'm thinking drugs were probably more likely.”

“And Jack really seems to have it out for you. Plus he was ticked at Garrett last night.”

“My dad is a little suspicious of Garrett too.”

“Really?”

“I told him he was wrong, but he says that if Garrett was in the backseat, he would be the most likely suspect.”