Dying To Teach Part 27

It was the girl from the park!

And in the bright light of the fast food place, Kiana realized with immense disappointment, it was not Nina. This person looked nothing like Nina.

Last night, the hat appeared thick like she had bunched long hair up inside it. Today Kiana could see the reddish locks pulled back in a short, fluffy ponytail, which accounted for the thick look of the hat. The woman was about thirty, not pretty, but the addition of makeup smoothed out the features and made her pleasant to look at.

Kiana felt a glimmer of recognition. She'd seen her somewhere before.

Gosh, if she knew this woman, then the woman might know her too.

Kiana scarfed down the rest of the potato, popped the lid back on the hot chocolate, and moved to a table far across the room. Kiana took out her phone intending to call Evan. He lived miles away and chances of him getting here in time to follow the woman were slim so she dialed Mrs. Deacon instead. It rang once then someone s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from her fingers, flipped the lid shut and slid the thing across toward her.

Evan sat and pushed her across the bench seat with his rear end.

"What are you doing here?" they said at the same time.

"I came for breakfast," Kiana said as he said, "I was following her."

Evan continued with, "I was on my way to pick you up. I stopped for gas and saw her coming out of the Quik Stop. And followed her here."

"You think she's meeting him?"

"I'd bet money on it. Too cold to meet in the park."

"Do you know who she is?"

"No. You?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. I've seen her before but can't place her. It could be some place as simple as the checkout line at K-Mart. You know what I mean?"

"Think hard."

Kiana did think. She ran a slide-show of memories through her head. Nothing came to mind.

Fifteen minutes pa.s.sed. n.o.body showed up to meet the woman. She crumpled her sandwich wrapper, stood and put on her hat. Kiana nudged Evan to get up. He did and started for the door. But Kiana went the other way-toward the woman. They crashed into each other. Purses flew.

Kiana staggered back against one of the booths. The hard back of the chair dug into her hip. The woman stumbled into a chair that grated on the floor, smashed into one of the tables and upended a chair on the other side. After a few moments, everything had been put back in place and Kiana stood staring sheepishly at the woman, who pointed at her. "I know you."

Kiana slid into a seat. "I was thinking the same thing. But I couldn't remember where."

The woman sat also. "I work in the high school. In the cafeteria lunch line. I see you and him," she pointed at Evan, who now came to join them. "You sit together every day. You always look so busy."

"Lately we're rehearsing," Evan said. "Kiana wrote the play the school is putting on."

The woman nodded. "I heard it's quite good." She looked at Evan. "I heard you wrote the music."

"Someday she's going to be a big star," Evan added.

What was he up to? He'd never said anything like that to her. Was he trying to get information from the woman? If so, he should be leading the conversation toward the man they'd seen her with.

"She's going to attend Greensboro College to major in acting and voice," Evan continued. "And next week, she's starting work at Prince and Pauper Theater."

"In Alton."

"Right. One of the owners, Mrs. Deacon, is here taking Ms. Forest's place."

"That was nice of her to come."

"It was," Kiana said. "It was nice of her to give me a job too."

The woman picked up her gloves from the table and stood. "Well, I guess I'll see you in school. I have to get going." Then she walked away.

Evan got up too. "Come on, I have a plan."

Kiana was on the verge of telling him he could partic.i.p.ate in his plans by himself, but couldn't say the words. They quite possibly had to do with finding Gwen's murderer. For that, Kiana was all in.

Evan outlined his thoughts. Then he gave her a job-phone Mrs. Deacon and invite her to breakfast. And don't take no for an answer.

THIRTY-THREE.

At 6:03 a.m. Angie stepped out of her damp running clothes just inside the hotel room door. A new hotel room. With bigger windows and a lot loftier view than she had yesterday. The higher-up vista came from the Penthouse suite, a gesture hotels always made when their tenants woke to find snakes in their dresser drawers. She was now registered under the name of Charlene Reading, a name hotel staff had chosen. Angie wouldn't let herself think of the reason she'd needed a new room. Snakes tended to make her brain numb. She left the window and went to pick up the clothes. She stowed them in the hotel's laundry bag then poured another cup of coffee.

In her purse on the dresser, the cell phone chirped. Jarvis had left a while ago, planning to question hotel staff. "Has anyone been asking for Angie?" "Has anyone been lurking around, especially in the hallway near her room?" "Has housekeeping noticed anything odd?" He was probably calling with the results before heading home to pick up Irish Red from the Wilsons.

Angie was halfway to the phone but it went silent after one ring. No time even for the caller ID to kick in. Probably Jarvis had lost the signal. She returned to her chair at the big new table-this one sporting a beautiful white tablecloth and a silver tea set delivered by room service earlier.

So who had put the snake in the drawer? Had to be the person who ransacked the auditorium. Who else could be after her? The phone rang again. Angie waited through the second ring in case the call messed up again.

But it wasn't Jarvis, it was Kiana.

"Everything all right?" Angie asked.

"Yes. Great. I hope we didn't call too early."

She didn't have to ask who "we" was. "Not at all."

"We wanted see how you were feeling."

Sure you did. "I'm fine, thanks. How's your shoulder?"

"I'm good."

"Evan and I...well, we wanted to invite you out for breakfast."

Angie had planned to spend the day in bed, reading ma.n.u.scripts. Perhaps later she'd take herself out to lunch, or avail herself of the hotel's very generous-and suddenly free-room service menu.

It wouldn't be polite to turn them down. Besides, something must be brewing. Maybe she could get back quickly and still do some reading. She said, "That's very nice of you," even though she ate an English m.u.f.fin a while ago.

"So, you'll come?" Kiana sounded a bit too desperate, which made Angie leery.

These kids wanted something. Question was, what could they want that their parents couldn't give? Angie met their parents last night. They seemed very supportive of their kids' efforts-all four had seats in the front row. Word had it they'd be in the same seats tonight. Something nudged the back of Angie's brain. Something Kiana said last night.

Kiana was talking. "Can you meet us at Farina's? Do you know where it is?"

"I do." She stood up and went to the closet to find something to wear. "What time?"

"Is seven o'clock too soon?"

Angie made small talk through the cheese omelets and wheat toast breakfasts. "Are you writing another play?" "Have you made out the application for college?" And they countered with "How do you get plays for your theater?" "What do you and Jarvis do for fun?"

"That's a beautiful pendant," Kiana noted. "It looks very expensive."

"Kee," Evan warned.

"It's all right. I got it in Cilla's shop the other day." Angie undid the clasp and handed the necklace to Evan, who examined it and held it up in front of Kiana.

"It goes perfectly with her eyes, don't you think?"

"And with her sweater. Why don't you borrow it for today?"

"I couldn't do that," Kiana protested.

"Of course you can. Evan, help her put it on."

Once the pendant was settled around Kiana's neck, the pretty girl said, softly, "Thanks."

Angie couldn't hold in the question any longer. "Okay, so what gives?"

Kiana's face screwed up in a question that didn't fool Angie a bit. Evan got right to the point. "We are going to Ms. Forest's apartment to look around. We thought you might like to go with us."

"Two questions." To make her point, Angie shot up one finger. "Are you crazy? And two," a second finger appeared beside the other, "are you insane?"

A patron eating at a nearby table stopping chewing long enough to smile at them.

"Okay," Angie said in a lower tone, "you do realize it's an official crime scene." She posed the argument but knew the answer to whether she'd go with them was a no-brainer. They weren't crazy or insane, just two desperate kids dissatisfied with the speed-or lack of it-from the police investigation. She knew the feeling. She also knew there would be no talking them out of it.

"The crime scene is almost a week old," Evan said. "They must've taken down the tape by now and everything. The landlord is probably making plans to rent the place to somebody else."

He had a point. Any clues they'd found would've been catalogued and removed to the station. "As I recall it's on the second floor," she argued. "You planning to climb the drain spout to get in?"

"If we have to," Evan said.

"No need to do that." Kiana held up a string with three keys dangling from it.

Angie put a palm out toward her. "I don't even want to know where you got it."

"It's nothing nefarious. I took care of her plants while she was on vacation."

Angie didn't bother voicing the obvious question. What adult would give a key to a teenager rather than a friend, neighbor, or co-worker? She pushed the empty plate and cup to the middle of the table. "You're making me sorry I gave you guys the day off from rehearsal-you have too much spare time."

"You know we have to do this," Kiana said.

"I know nothing of the sort." Maybe she should ask Jose to meet them there. Would he come? He might. He seemed to have taken a liking to her in all those hours they spent together at the hospital. But if he denied them access and later found out they'd gone anyway, not only would it mess up her relations.h.i.+p with the local cops, it might screw things up between him and Jarvis.

"What do you expect to find there?" It was a dumb question. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

Evan shot her a million-watt grin, pulled a wallet from a back pocket, and threw some bills on the table.

"Could I leave the tip?" Angie asked.

"It's taken care of," Evan said. "You ready?" he said to Kiana who sc.r.a.ped the last of her over-easies from the ceramic plate, lipped the last of the yolk from the fork and stood up, looping her purse strap over the uninjured shoulder.

The kids bypa.s.sed the motorcycle and climbed into Angie's car. They headed for Gwen's apartment, four miles away.

"So, why did you invite me along?"

"What?" Evan asked from the backseat.

"You heard me. The other day you were all gung-ho for investigating on your own. Why involve me? You had to figure I'd try and talk you out of going. Or insist on bringing in the cops."

"But you didn't."

Kiana half-turned in the pa.s.senger seat to talk to Evan. "We did think she would."

"I guess we wanted your..."

He seemed lost for the right word. Kiana, who had a very mature vocabulary, inserted it. "Expertise."

"Right," Evan said.

When he didn't elaborate, Kiana said, "We thought you could look at the scene and get clues from it."

"Right," said Evan, "we have no idea what to look for."

Besides that, Angie was the so-called investigator. If authorities showed up she'd be able to talk them out of a mess. Well, they might have a great big surprise coming. Alton Bay cops would listen to her excuses for their presence at a crime scene, but Carlson cops? No way.

Angie pulled into the parking lot of the building she recognized from the news. "You realize the cops will have taken everything that so much as resembles a clue, right?"

Neither teen answered. She hadn't expected one. She knew, as did they, that cops might have overlooked the significance of a particular item.

Kiana led them up the stairs and to Gwen's apartment. They didn't meet anyone along the way. They must be large apartments since there was quite a distance between entry doors. No sounds came from the apartment across the hall. The tenants might still be in bed, it wasn't yet 8:30. Also possible that they'd gone to work.