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Authors: Sanna Hines

Tags: #FICTION / Thrillers

Stealth Moves (24 page)

BOOK: Stealth Moves
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“Too cool.”

Jessica grinned. “Open the second big box.”

Liv found a short leather jacket with the same flame patterns arcing from waist to shoulders. The sleeves and back were solid with cutouts only along their centers. Underneath lay a white wrap top with crisscross bands meeting in a soft stand-up collar.

“Let’s see it the way it’s supposed to be seen.” Touching a spot inside the neckline, Jessica made the blouse light up. One side glowed warm red; the other, pale gold.

“Ohmygod!” Liv cried. “It’s beautiful. It’s like something a goddess would wear. How’d you do that?”

“Fiber optic fabric from England. Cost megabucks to get here express, so you better appreciate it.”

“I do! This is awesome.”

“And there’s more.” Jessica took the blouse from Liv’s hands to lay it inside the jacket. “Here’s the full effect.”

The jacket came alive. Light glowed through the silk. As the glow roved restlessly among the patterns, Liv didn’t have to imagine flames: She could see them!

“This is…this is…wow.” Liv sat on the bed, eyes captivated by the display. “Do the chaps light up, too?”

Jessica nodded. She pulled crimson-suede flats from one of the small boxes. “Footwear for running and jumping, which superheroes do a lot, I’m told. Actually, they’re Parkour shoes.”

“You’re kidding,” Liv said. “Really? Don’t tell Grandmother.”

“Our secret,” Jessica promised. “They’re supposed to be excellent. I couldn’t try them on; your feet are smaller than mine. Didn’t try the convertible heels, either.”

Liv had been eying the gunmetal spikes hinged upward from the shoe backs. “These metal things are heels? How do they work?”

“Most of the time, they’re hidden by the chaps, but when you need them for, uh, getting hero honors or wowing crowds, they swing down against the sole magnet and latch just here.” She showed Liv how to fix the heels in place. “Practice walking with those a bit to make sure they’re stable. Just don’t use them on your stairs first thing, okay?”

“Okay.” Liv grinned. “What’s in the last box?”

“Accessories: fingerless gloves, wristband for your phone, and the headpiece.” Jess raised a delicate, half-circle wreath of flame shapes. “It wraps from the back of your head to the front. Wires around your ears hold it in place, and it turns on here.” She flicked a switch behind the left earpiece. Golden light beamed upward.

Liv was enchanted, but Jessica frowned. “Had to use LEDs in this. If you hear a buzzing sound, I’ll get the electrician to fix it, but in the meantime, use the noise-cancelling earplugs. Switch is on the right earpiece.”

Jessica folded her hands. “All done. You’ve seen everything. Hope you’re pleased.”

Liv stepped around boxes to hug Jessica. “You’re the best!”

After the hug, Jessica said, “Your grandmother wants to see the outfit. Get ready for your debut as hero-woman.”

Woman?
Liv felt a thrill of surprise. People called her a girl, a kid, a student—but woman? That was new. “I just wish I could wear this to my party.”

“Wear it to the concert. Your friends will be there, won’t they?”

“Yes!” Liv punched air, realizing the concert could be her shot. Lots of people were planning to wear leathers like Cam had in the videos.

Jessica paused by the door. “Eric drove me down from Portsmouth. He’s talking with Holly. I’ll call him into the living room so you can get a male reaction. If his jaw doesn’t drop, I’ll owe you a Starbucks.”

“You’re on. And Jessica, thanks. Thanks sooo much.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome. It was a fun challenge. See you downstairs.”

Liv let Teddy out of the bathroom, petting him madly to make up for holding him captive, and then started putting on the outfit. Half-dressed when her computer screensaver came up, she squinted at the machine. When had she turned it on? She couldn’t remember. Shrugging, she reached for her amazing blouse. The built-in bra pushed up a whole lot of boob. “Whoa,” she said to her reflection in the mirror as she slipped into the jacket. Setting her headpiece in place, Liv stared.
I look so different!

The corner of her eye caught the faint light of the webcam, but her mind had already traveled downstairs, imagining the looks, the reactions she’d get. Would a smokin’ guy like Eric Glasscock really think she was hot?

Liv pushed the buttons to turn luminous, and Beacon went to find out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Day 14—Friday night

Holly and the Smallwoods hiked toward the concert. At the last minute, Mike decided to attend. “My arm’s better,” he said, “and I kind of like the music, even if it isn’t heavy metal.”

Liv was one step ahead of Holly, who felt shadowing her was the best position. She could see over Liv’s head, and it was easy to leap forward if anyone tried to grab the girl. Catherine walked nearest the street, but there was no reason to think she’d be pulled into a waiting car. She was most at risk at home.

Holly frowned. Finding Catherine twisted in bedding still weirded her out. Who had the balls to attack a woman in her own home with workmen around? The police didn’t know; they hadn’t found any clues except that camera on the terrace. And there was another thing: Someone put the Smallwood terrace under surveillance. The man Mike chased off the deck was the obvious suspect. He must have set up the camera, then hung around long enough to put Teddy’s dog pad in front of her door, making a lame joke while a police officer was in the house. Crazy. Dan’s belief in a kid prank didn’t satisfy, not after Catherine’s ordeal. Then there was the security man who passed out in Liv’s room. Holly still couldn’t put the pieces together and probably never would. This was her last night as bodyguard.

Last night! She sighed, watching Liv stride along in her fabulous costume.

They’d made up. It took most of the week, but Holly finally understood why a teenager couldn’t give up freedom and privacy meekly. Of course, Liv rebelled. At the same age—even now—Holly would, too. Catherine was right to say they’d both been naïve to expect cooperation from Liv.

So far, Mike had said nothing about her leaving. As he strolled beside Holly, talking about world events, she wondered if he was glad. She’d put him through a lot. Mike would probably be relieved she was gone.

They crossed Beacon and moved into the Common. The concert crowd came into view past trees edging the Frog Pond. They could see the backstage area, where temporary snow fencing gave performers shelter for their tour bus and equipment truck. Saw horses blocked access beyond the stage aprons. Police tape began after that, with uniformed cops prowling the lines between checkpoints.

At the entrance nearest the bandstand, Catherine handed her tickets to the guard. Inside the pillars, folding chairs were arranged in rows facing the stage. People stood talking. Zarah left the cluster around Ariel Kelly’s mother to approach their group, greeting Holly, who introduced the others. Zarah told Catherine, “You must meet my sister. Sharana has heard you worked hard to make this concert happen. She knows this rosebud…” Zarah smiled broadly at Liv. “But has not had the pleasure of thanking you, Mrs. Smallwood.”

As Catherine went to talk with Sharana Kelly, Mike pointed to a chair in the last row. “I’m taking that one. No one will bump my arm if I sit in back.”

Holly nodded, eyes following Liv. The girl had drifted to the railing facing the stage. She didn’t look up from texting when Holly joined her there. “Found your friends?”

“Yeah,” Liv answered glumly. She slid the phone into the armband of her suit. “Maddy’s with the other class presidents from Sidley. They’ll be near the stage with some St. Winifred’s kids. She’s not giving her speech. The headmaster said no one should attract the kidnapper’s attention.”

“Good thinking. So who will speak?”

“Headmaster Taunton. Then it’ll be the principal from St. Winifred’s. Chase gets to come on later and pretend he’s the Hero, but he has to keep his helmet on and not say his name. That’s after some cop rides through the crowd and behind the stage so Chase can take his place. Tay says Chase has stage fright. She’s coaching him now.” Liv threw out her hands. “They’re together, and I’m here alone with the
parents
.”

Holly looked around. It was true: the VIPs were all middle aged, probably Sidley parents. She and Liv were the only under-thirties among them except for Mike, who was closing in on that age.

Zarah moved toward them. Jerking her chin at Liv, she said to Holly, “She does not wear the necklace.”

“Oh! I forgot.” Holly unzipped the pocket in her purse. She told Liv, “This is your gift from Ari’s aunt.”

With a smile for Zarah, Liv put on the necklace and patted the pendant. “Thank you!”

Zarah circled her hands. “Wear in good health.”

Catherine rejoined them. “Ah, here you are. Zarah, I’m so glad you introduced me to your sister. I worried the families might think this event disrespectful until Sharana said she was glad for all the interest in her daughter, and the Porcinis were, too. Those poor people aren’t attending; it’s too soon, but they’ve raised enough money to fund a memorial math scholarship to MIT. Natalie was an exceptional math student.”

“I keep hearing about geniuses,” Liv remarked, ticking off names on her fingers. “Natalie. Kyle. Miss Tinsley’s brother.”

Holly had an idea. “Is Ari a genius?”

Liv snorted. “She hates math, science and all that stuff.”

“Her gift is imagination,” Zarah said proudly. “Ariel has a genius for invention. And tonight, her feckless father—who has not paid support for the girl in over one year—will prove himself worthy of such a magnificent daughter.”

Liv asked, “What’s the senator going to do?”

“You will see.” Zarah winked. “Ah! The program begins.” She waved a seated couple over two spaces to make room for Catherine, Liv, Holly and herself.

The stage lights came on. Holly saw a girl band on the Jumbotron screen.

Dressed in leather shorts and bra, the warm-up lead singer’s rainbow pigtails bobbed as she greeted the crowd and then launched into a song about mean girls. The music wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either. The band got better-than-polite applause.

Their second number was a lost-love song played on acoustic guitar. “I’ll never forget you,” the singer vowed, all throaty voiced. “You live in my heart.” Holly thought about dead Natalie, wondering if others did, too.

When the applause died down, two men came on stage. Both were middle aged; one, a priest. The other wore a crisp, navy suit so well-tailored it must have cost a fortune.

“Headmaster Taunton,” Liv whispered. “The priest is principal of Natalie’s school.”

The headmaster thanked the girl band members, who bowed, blew kisses, and retreated. He introduced himself, welcomed the audience, and then talked about the Hero campaign, praising Sidley faculty, families and students “who wouldn’t give in or give up. We’re a community of people who care.” Lifting a hand toward the audience, he cued a group near the stage to stand briefly and then sit.

“That’s all we kids get,” Liv huffed, “for dreaming up this whole thing.”

After describing Kyle and Ariel, their interests and accomplishments, the headmaster ended with a plea for the safe return of both.

St. Winifred’s principal stepped forward, thanked Headmaster Taunton, gave his name, and eulogized Natalie before leading a prayer.

A more somber crowd awaited Tripl Thret, who took the stage next. They rocked it through a set and then took a break. Canned music came on. Inside the bandstand, spectators stood to stretch.

Liv went to the railing where reception for her phone was better. She pulled it from her armband but said, “Oh, look! There’s Brandon,” and waved at someone passing by.

“Who?” Holly moved closer to Liv.

“The dude Teddy bit. He was so nice about it.”

Holly spotted a gray knit cap disappearing into the thick of the crowd. “Liv, I think that’s Brent Tinsley, not someone named Brandon.”

“You’re wrong. He told me his name was Brandon, but he looks a little different. Maybe he cut his hair or something.” Liv gazed into the distance before challenging Holly. “It couldn’t be Miss Tinsley’s brother. He’d be old.”

Holly did some math in her head. “He’s twenty-five or –six.”

“Like I said,
old
. Brandon’s not. He’s pretty cool.”

Zarah slipped past Holly to ask Liv, “How do you know this man?”

“He hangs at the café where we all go after school, and… my dog sort of nipped him.”

The Israeli woman flashed Holly a significant look before going to her sister, shooing the occupant of the next seat away, and then whispering in Sharana Kelly’s ear.

Holly and Liv went back to their own seats, finding Mike in Zarah’s abandoned chair. “Can’t see anything back there,” he explained.

“Too bad,” Holly said. “I think you just missed your brother-in-law.”

Mike squinted at her. “Brent’s here?” Holly nodded while Mike observed, “Guess he’s not a recluse anymore.”

The musicians came back with a new song written for the event. Tripl Thret only got through one chorus of “You’re Our Hero” before an engine revved, the roar coming from the south, near the old cemetery. Holly knew the sound of The Rocket, knew the cop on her father’s bike was ready to make his entrance. She looked over her shoulder to follow the rider’s progress.

He paused by the bandstand, waiting for uniformed officers to clear spectators from his path. Holly’s heart skipped a beat. Wearing her father’s helmet and jacket, the policeman reminded her so much of her robust father. Unlike her slender brothers, this man filled out the jacket just as her father had done, his girth a testimony to her mother’s good cooking. Dark cloth pants and regulation motorcycle cop boots were different—and so were saddle bags draped behind the rider’s seat. Had to be ransom money in those bags.

The bike moved on toward the stage with the audience cheering. They’d come to see the Hero, and there he was. Tripl Thret serenaded the rider, who reached the stage, turned in his seat to wave to the crowd, then rode through the barriers opened by attending guards.

Almost immediately, a leather-clad figure appeared on stage. Holly knew it was Chase, whose trim proportions weren’t the same as the heavier rider. She wondered if the audience would spot the difference, but thunderous applause meant they hadn’t.

BOOK: Stealth Moves
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ads

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