The Photographer (17 page)

Inside The Pit the booths were jammed full, so Berk and Scott leaned on the counter and ordered pork sandwiches and fries and Cokes. They'd sit down if a spot opened.

Eavesdropping, Scott discovered that the main topic of conversation was the funeral, and more so, the murder.

“How'd she die, Berk?” asked Scott. “Have you heard?”

“Not a mark on her.” Berk bit into his sandwich, which squirted sauce and pork bits out all sides of the bun.

“I heard she had a smile on her face,” said a boy sitting on the last stool at the counter. “Remember how she looked in that yellow dress last spring at the prom? God, she was a knockout. All the guys were calling her the yellow fox.”

“Who'd she go with?” Scott asked. He wouldn't know the guy, but he wanted to join in the conversation.

“Are you kidding? J.D. Pike stuck to SueAnne like Krazy Glue. He knew if he got two steps away, some jock would try to beat his time.”

“King Kong of Sparksville football,” Berk filled Scott in. “Already has a scholarship guaranteed to U of A. Born Razorback. Everyone calls him Hog.”

“He doesn't mind?” Scott grinned.

“In this state, Lawrence,
hog
is a magic word. You got a lot to learn, city boy.” Fries disappeared off Berk's plate like magic. Not that any number of greasy fries or burgers were going to make a difference. Scott thought Berk was the skinniest guy he'd ever seen.

Scott found himself looking around for Vicki. Would she come here? No, there was a reception in the church basement after the service. She'd have to go there. Maybe she'd want to. SueAnne was her best friend.

“Who's that?” Scott nodded toward a girl who'd get his vote for fox of the year. She had a mane of long curly hair the color of polished mahogany, and she tossed it around like a thoroughbred mare wanting attention. At a distance he could admire the cornflower blue sweater and the way she filled it out. Up close and personal, she would scare the hell out of him.

Scott was finding out that Berk was a smart aleck. He might look like nerd of the century, but he wasn't shy. “Yo, Belle, you going to the homecoming dance with me this year?” he called out to the girl when she got close enough for her flowery perfume to compete with barbecue flavors.

She flashed Berk a smile that made every guy at the counter sit up straighter. “You should be so lucky, Berkie-boy. Too hot for you to handle.”

Scott knew she was right. He sure wouldn't want to try. But he smiled back, since she gave him a quick once-over. He hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. He just thought he'd been sweaty in the church. Every pore was in flood stage with even his loafers feeling squishy.

A guy with anvil shoulders, who'd just come in, stopped her. “Leaving already, Babe?”

“'Fraid so. That nerd at the photo studio screwed up my pictures. Said he needed some retakes—no charge, of course.”

“Maybe he got an emergency call from
Playboy
, Belle.” The boy next to Berk entered the conversation. “Their issue on sweater girls of the South needs a couple more poses.”

“You might be right, Billy Ray.” Belle pretended to pout. “I'm not taking my clothes off for less than ten Gs though.” She gave Anvil Shoulders a glance. “Unless it's my idea.”

His grin said it might have been her idea recently. Giving him a little wave, she left him standing there panting.

“Is that her steady?” asked Scott, basking in her wake.

“One of them.” Berk grinned. “Hey, I didn't expect Vicki to come over here. Who's she looking for?”

Scott forgot Belle instantly. Vicki was standing just inside the doorway to The Pit. Her eyes roamed over the crowd, obviously trying to find someone. Two tables of girls waved to her, but she returned the greeting and stayed put.

Her eyes landed on Scott and stopped. She stepped around bodies and through the crowd until she reached him. He didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until she faced him and tugged at his sleeve. Either he'd grown a foot in two days, or she was shorter than he remembered.

“Do you have a car, Scott?” she asked quietly. “Can you take me home? I had Mom drop me off here, but I've realized it was a mistake.”

With a smooth sleight of hand, Berk pushed his car keys over until they rested on the palm of Scott's open hand on the counter. “Catch you later.” Then he turned and headed toward the bathrooms.

Scott would give him an award for great new buddy of the year later. Right then, without saying a word, he tossed back the remains of his Coke so his lips would stop sticking together and took Vicki's elbow. He steered her toward the front door. If anyone said anything to them, he was totally oblivious to it.

All he could think about was how grateful he was. Vicki obviously had some kind of problem, and she'd asked him for help.

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About the Author

Barbara Steiner (1934–2014) was an acclaimed author known for her books for children and young adults. Steiner authored over seventy titles, including picture books, early chapter books, mysteries, young adult thrillers, historical novels, and romances. In her lifetime, Steiner visited more than ninety-four countries and all seven continents, and many of her books were inspired by her travels. She lived in Boulder with her family until her death in January 2014.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1989 by Barbara Steiner

Cover design by Mimi Bark

ISBN: 978-1-4976-0982-2

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

Also Available from Open Road Media

The Photographer II
,
the sequel to The Photographer

More Ebooks by Barbara Steiner