Starstruck (42 page)

“Aw, you should’ve let him kiss you good night, Marsha,” Uncle Louie teased as I got back in the truck.

“Louie,” my aunt said warningly. “That’s enough.”

It made me wonder what the two of them said about me when I wasn’t around. But not much. I was already looking forward to Rigel’s call.

When we got home, I rushed through my going-to-bed routine, afraid Rigel might call before I was safely in my room, where I could talk. Which meant I had an extra long wait once I
was
in bed. Even though he’d said the phone was on vibrate and I had it in my hand so I couldn’t possibly miss his call, I kept checking the screen just in case.

Finally, nearly two hours after we got home, with my nerves stretched almost to the screaming point, the phone vibrated. I nearly dropped it in my eagerness to answer.

“Hello?” I whispered. “Rigel?”

“Hey, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he said. “I wanted to wait long enough for your aunt and uncle to go to bed so you could talk privately.”

“They’ve been asleep almost an hour. What’s going on?”

“A lot, actually. It’s mostly good news, though, I think.”

That surprised me. “You mean what happened with the car really
was
an accident?” I was skeptical.

“Nope, definitely not an accident. Grandfather just got a call from his guy who went to the garage to check on it. It had been tampered with by Smith, just like we thought.”

“How is that good news?” I asked. “Other than it not actually killing us, I mean.”

“Because they caught Smith—at your house. That’s where he went when he left the game.”

A chill ran through me. “My
house?
What was he doing?”

“He hadn’t done anything yet, but from what they found in his car, they think he was planning to burn the place—maybe if the car thing didn’t work. A backup plan.”

“I’m still not getting good news out of this,” I said, the chill turning colder. It proved that not only did these people really want me dead, but they also didn’t care who else they hurt in the process.

“The good news is that Smith is in custody. He can’t do anything else to threaten you. And Grandfather thinks they’ll be able to get the whole plan out of him eventually.”

“Wait. You said he got a call from . . . Is Shim here in Jewel?”

“Yeah, he flew to Indy and rented a car. Got here about the time the game ended, along with a couple other people. M . . . I really think you’re safe now.” The warmth, the relief in his voice was contagious and melted my chills away.

“That’s . . . that’s great.” Then I remembered something else. “What about Morven? He was on his way here, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, but they don’t think he’ll dare try anything now we’ve got Smith. He won’t know what Smith has told us, for one thing. Plus there are enough of us now to protect you, even if he did come after you. Which he won’t.”

“I hope you’re right.” I was still trying to wrap my head around Shim hopping a last minute flight from DC to Indy—because of me. “But how will Morven know you have Smith? Won’t he just assume his plans are going the way he expected?”

“Nope.” Now Rigel sounded positively smug. “He called when he landed in Indy and my grandfather answered Smith’s phone. I don’t know exactly what he said, but his guess is that Morven is trying to get back to LA—or even out of the country—as fast as he can.”

Suddenly, I felt sleepy—maybe a reaction to how keyed up I’d been for the past few hours. “Rigel, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you telling me this. And for what you did tonight—I just realized I never thanked you for saving my life.”

“My life, too,” he reminded me. “Get some sleep, M. You’ve earned it. I’m gonna hit the sack, too.” He’d earned it far more than I had, between the football game and saving all of us from what could have been a horrible death. He had to be exhausted, though he didn’t sound it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said then. “I’ve talked my folks into letting me take you someplace special before the dance. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Rigel.” I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I was still trying to gather up the nerve to do it when I realized he’d hung up already.

Just as well. It’s not like he’d ever said it to me. Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear it. And even if he was, on the phone didn’t seem like the right way to say it for the first time.

Realizing I was mentally babbling, I rolled over and fell asleep, more relaxed than I’d been in weeks.

When I came down to breakfast the next morning, Uncle Louie was on the phone. He hung up as I was pouring my cereal.

“Gary says the car’s fine. His best theory is that the fuel injector was jammed but he doesn’t think it’ll happen again. He’s going to pick me up for work and I’ll drive it home.”

Aunt Theresa turned from the sink with a frown. “Well I won’t be riding in that car again until you take it to a proper mechanic. Or, better yet, trade it for a newer car.”

“What’s wrong with Gary?” Uncle Louie asked, but I tuned them out.

I was in a great mood and I wasn’t going to let one of their arguments ruin it. The Homecoming dance was tonight, and Bri had suggested Deb and I come to her place ahead of time so we could all do our hair and makeup together. And Rigel wanted to take me someplace special!

It turned out I didn’t even need to mow the lawn—I checked it after breakfast and it had barely grown at all since last weekend. Not surprising since it was October now, but it still felt like a gift. Just like the Martian bad guys being history.

I briefly debated the wisdom of walking to taekwondo class like usual, but no one had suggested I shouldn’t. Besides, if I asked for a ride or skipped it, Aunt Theresa would want to know why and I couldn’t very well plead sickness if I wanted to go to the dance tonight.

So I headed out like always, reminding myself that the danger was over. Still, I couldn’t help being just the tiniest bit nervous during the stretch along Opal, between Garnet and Diamond, when nobody was around.

I got to class without incident, though, and it turned out to be a really good session. Master Parker taught me the rest of my green belt form,
Taeguk Sam Jang
, and explained that the knife-hand strikes in it would be good for self defense, like most of the stuff in our forms. Then we spent some time sparring and doing back kicks on the bags, and I got complimented on my performance in both.

Walking home an hour later, I was really glad I’d gone. On top of the little high I always got from vigorous exercise, I was sure I’d burned enough calories to make up for whatever I might eat at the fancy dinner Rigel had hinted about. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who turns up her nose at the dessert cart—was there any place in Jewel
with
a dessert cart?—because she’s worried about her weight.

I neared the corner where I’d turn off Diamond onto Opal, just past Quilt World and Belinda’s Books. Visions of slow dancing with Rigel filled my mind until I noticed a weird, homeless-looking guy heading my way. We didn’t really have a homeless problem in Jewel, not like in Indy, but every now and then vagrants came through town looking for handouts.

I averted my gaze the way Aunt Theresa had always told me to, not wanting to draw the man’s attention, but he came right toward me anyway, muttering something I couldn’t understand. I slowed down, then moved off to the side, glancing around at the thin crowd of Saturday shoppers who all appeared far more affluent than I did.

Though the guy wasn’t looking right at me, he kept stumbling in my direction, even when my direction changed. This was starting to feel not-random. I started walking faster, edging as far from him as I could, even stepping off the curb into the street, since no cars were coming at the moment, hoping to pass him quickly. As soon as I turned the corner, I was going to run, I decided.

But at the last second, he moved into the street too, blocking my path. I tried to dodge around him, but he reached for my arm, brushing my sleeve as I jerked away. I got a definite Martian vibe from him.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, fairly loudly. I didn’t care now if I drew attention, and a few people stopped to see what was going on. “Leave me alone.” Surely, if he was one of the bad Martians, he wouldn’t want a crowd watching.

He didn’t seem to care, though. He swung his hand up again—the same hand—and this time I noticed a silver glint in his palm. What the hell? This time, I managed to block him with my gym bag just before he contacted me, but he followed up quickly, not nearly as clumsy now. Clearly, that had been an act.

The man sidestepped my gym bag and came at me again, much more aggressively this time, that same arm outstretched. I felt a sudden certainty that if I let him touch me with whatever he had in his hand, it would be very bad. Remembering the defense move from my new form, I countered with a strong knife-hand block to his wrist, and saw the silver thing go flying from his hand to land with a tinkle in the gutter.

“No!” he shouted, glancing wildly into the gutter. Then, without warning, he lunged toward me, both hands aiming for my throat, his face distorted with insane fury.

If I hadn’t just spent the last fifteen minutes of taekwondo practicing my back kick against the bags, I might never have thought to do what I did next. Taking a quick fix on my target, I turned away like I was going to run, then delivered a solid back kick right to the middle of his stomach. As I’d hoped, it caught him completely off guard and he went sprawling with a satisfying “oof.”

Then I really did run, for all I was worth, completely ignoring the shouts and offers of help from the people who’d gathered to watch the bizarre spectacle. My only thought was to get well away and then call Rigel. As I sped around the corner, I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the man just starting to struggle to his feet, a weird smile spreading across his scruffy face.

“Won’t do you any good to run, Princess!” he shouted after me. “We’re just going to keep coming!”

CHAPTER 25

Absolute magnitude

My heart in my throat, I kept running and didn’t stop until I was in front of the house next door to ours. Then, glancing back again to make sure he hadn’t followed, I forced myself to a walk, taking deep breaths and doing my best to slow my racing heart. I did
not
want to have to explain to Aunt Theresa why I was so out of breath.

I could definitely explain to Rigel, though. Pulling his phone out of my pocket, I went around to the side of our house—the side away from the kitchen—and pushed the button for his dad’s number, like he’d told me to do yesterday. To my relief, Rigel answered instead of his dad.

“M? What’s up?” He sounded more curious than worried.

“Hey. I, um, don’t think the bad guys are, ah, quite taken care of after all.” I was still panting a little.

He picked up on that immediately. “What happened?” he demanded. “Are you okay? I’m coming to get you. Let me—”

“Rigel, wait! Listen first.” I quickly told him what had just happened, including the fact that my attacker had something silver—a needle or device?—that he’d tried to hit me with. I finished with the words he’d yelled after me. “So . . . it doesn’t sound like we’re quite out of the woods yet,” I added unnecessarily.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed grimly. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah. I ran.”

“Okay, stay put. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Um, do I have time to take a shower? I kind of need one.” It
had
been a vigorous class, not to mention the run home.

I could hear him talking to someone else, presumably his parents or Shim. Then, to me, “If it’s a quick one.”

“Thanks. Oh, and hey, can you maybe call on the regular phone before you come, so I can make up something to tell my aunt for why you’re picking me up?”

There was another brief conference I couldn’t quite hear. “My mom will call and talk to her. You go ahead and get your shower. See you soon.”

When I went inside a moment later, I was no longer panting. “I’m home—taking a shower,” I called out, heading straight for the stairs.

But my aunt intercepted me, coming out of the kitchen with a vegetable peeler in her hand. “Louise Batten just called. She said you got into some kind of scuffle with a vagrant outside her shop?”

Louise Batten owned and ran Quilt World. Unfortunately, she was also one of Jewel’s premier gossips.

“Um, not a scuffle, exactly, but he did try to grab me. I kicked at him and ran, though, and he didn’t come after me. He was probably drunk or high or something.”

“That’s what Louise thought, so she called the police. But by the time they arrived, he’d run off.”

I swallowed, glad that Rigel was coming to get me. “No one saw which way he went?”

“Louise didn’t. I don’t know what any other witnesses might have told the police. But if he doesn’t cause any more trouble, I doubt they’ll pursue it. You weren’t hurt?” She actually looked mildly concerned.

“No, he didn’t . . . didn’t really touch me, just grabbed at my sleeve. I’m fine.”

Her concern turned to disapproval. “Well, you keep your distance from strangers in the future. A girl can’t be too careful.”