Marco had stolen the wrong size bit for the screw gun. He kept jamming the one he had into the screw on the lock plate on the door and it was too big for the holes. Typical. Just fraking typical. Which meant he had to go down to the HomeMart, sneak in the back, find the tools, all of which had been commandeered and stowed in one of the offices, then find the drill bits, then find one that would fit the damn screw. Like he had time for this crap.
Forget that he had not one but two parties to set up. Forget that only one of these parties was sanctioned. Forget that if the senator found out about Mike’s party, his ass was grass. Forget that if Mike found out about the other party, he’d probably kill him before the senator got her opportunity. All around, life sucked. Was this really better than just being a regular guy in the dorms?
The second screwdriver worked and, even more astounding, by refitting the plate over the box attached to the door frame, the lock engaged but the door swung free. Lexi had come through in the clutch. He owed her big-time.
Route to the main party established, now it was time to move the additional alcohol swindled from the senator to Mike.
Marco followed his own trail of glow-in-the-dark stars back to the door across from the bowling alley. He’d left the old markers indicating the route to Mike’s party on the walls, and added green glowing lizards to mark the route to the IMAX theater. He figured, people could choose their own party path—either they end up with Mike and two handles of “Igor” vodka, or in the IMAX theater with a keg and decent sound system.
Crap. He hadn’t hooked up the sound system. Okay, first deliver alcohol to Mike, then the sound system, then meet up with Lexi and let whatever happens happens, on all fronts.
• • •
Ryan waited for Marco in the shadows near the bowling lanes. He’d never been much good at bowling. It was something his family had done when he was a kid, on the good days when Dad hadn’t drank so much and Mom wasn’t in a mood. Thad was good at bowling; he was good at everything. Ryan, well, if he was good at anything it was only because he’d worked his ass off.
He wondered if Ruthie and Jack would like to play a game. Maybe he could sneak them out before Lights On. Jack seemed to be doing a little better when he’d checked on them earlier. He’d eaten a roll and two orange slices, according to Ruthie. Still, it wasn’t doing them any good to stay in the car. The inside of the car was beginning to smell as bad as the outside. Maybe Marco could help him find them a new place to hide?
On the subject of Marco, where was the guy? Mike had said he’d be coming back with alcohol and Ryan had stationed himself here to make sure he did not deliver. Marco had no idea what Mike and Drew were capable of, party-wise. They needed to be deprived, brought back down to boring stuck-alone-in-a-closet, for their own good. Security knew there was a party in the bowling alley last night, would probably be looking for one here tonight. The party will be busted for sure, and once in custody, Mike would probably do something supremely stupid and get himself killed.
Finally, Marco slunk into the bowling alley.
“Dude, we need to talk,” Ryan said, striding toward him.
“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Marco said, brushing past.
“You can’t give Mike that vodka,” Ryan said, grabbing Marco’s arm.
Marco shrugged off Ryan’s grasp. “He basically threatened to kill me if I don’t, so either make some threats of your own or get the hell out of my way.”
Ryan was surprised. He’d thought Marco had gained most-favored-lackey status. He had a nickname!
“Whatever he said,” Ryan whispered, trying to show Marco that they were on the same side, “Mike does not want to get caught. Security knows people partied here before. Tonight’s party is sure to get busted.”
“Not a problem,” Marco said.
Ryan was surprised by the guy’s confidence. “How do you know?”
He sighed like Ryan was wasting his precious time. “I heard a rumor that the party’s been moved. So no one’s even going to come to this shindig. It’ll just be you three getting hammered by yourselves.”
“Which will piss Mike off even more.” Ryan did not think this guy was quite getting his message. “Mike is serious about his parties. He’s kind of insane about them. Maybe just give them the booze and say security’s barred the doors to the service halls or something.”
Marco adjusted his grip on the bottles and gave Ryan the once-over. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try it. But you have my back with this?”
Ryan could hug the bastard. “I’ve got you covered.”
• • •
Lexi finished hiding the last camera behind a pipe outside the Pancake Palace. She’d put the worst model down here—there was nothing worth stealing in the Palace and surely these thieves knew that. She hoisted the bag with all the receivers and made her way to the hallway and up to the mall offices.
“Job complete,” she said, dropping the bag and her mother’s borrowed access card on the desk.
Dotty looked stunned. “I thought you’d finished hours ago.”
“Sorry,” Lexi said, not really in the mood to fight.
Her mother frowned. “I don’t mean it like that, Lex,” she said, standing. “I’m sorry you’ve been busting your butt all night. Did you get dinner?”
Lexi allowed Dotty to pretend to be a mom. She got another Lean Cuisine from the fridge in her office and heated it in the microwave, got Lexi a soda from the cooler in the hall. It was nice to be pampered for the moment. It was nice to pretend.
Dotty laid the tray on the table and immediately got back to work on her computer.
“Don’t you ever take a break?” Lexi asked, shoveling the chicken and dumplings down.
“I haven’t taken a break in about four years.” Her voice sounded a million years old.
“When we get out of here, we should take a vacation. Like go to Mexico or something.”
Her mother looked at her like she’d started speaking in HTML, then burst out laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Lexi was not sure what was so funny.
When she regained control of herself, her mother wiped her face on her sleeve. “Yes, baby,” she said. “When we get out of here, we are definitely taking a vacation.”
After eating, Lexi explained how to view the feed from the new cameras. “Just plug this receiver into the USB port on the computer and a screen should show up.” She pointed to the right input, just in case her mom didn’t know what a USB was. “But don’t show Hank,” she added.
“Why not?” Her mother examined one of the receivers like it might zap her.
“I don’t trust him.”
Her mother gave her one of those aren’t-you-cute looks. “Honey, if I can’t trust Hank, I might as well throw in the towel on everything.”
Lexi didn’t say anything more—what could she say? She had no evidence that Hank was anything but kind of a jerkwad, and that wasn’t exactly a crime. Whatever, she didn’t like him. She would watch him. Just in case.
• • •
Shay had skipped dinner. She wasn’t hungry. And she didn’t want to see Kris. The embarrassment was almost worse than the emptiness. Her brain kept running the scene over and over, like she needed to be reminded of how much of an idiot she’d made of herself.
Maybe she would hide in this store all night, tomorrow too. There were some decorative pillows on a shelf near the back. They were probably as comfortable as her cot. Maybe she would stay here until she died from the flu or the government let them all out, whichever. Did it even matter?
“Lights Out is in a half hour.” Something nudged Shay in the rear.
She glanced back and saw a black boot, the end of a stun baton dangling beside a leg. The fantasy was over. Time to reenter the hell of my life.
Preeti was waiting on her cot. She was all folded up like a trap; she sprang to life upon seeing Shay approach.
“You left me!” she yelled. A few women looked their way. Preeti did not notice or apparently care. “You abandoned me at the school! You swore you’d be there! You swore you wouldn’t leave me again!”
Shay put on a sad face peppered with a hint of apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had a headache and went to lie down.”
“You didn’t tell anyone where you went,” Preeti said, somewhat quieter. “Kris was even a little freaked out.”
His name made Shay want to puke. “I’ll say something to him tomorrow. I’m okay now.”
Preeti glared at her for a moment longer, then threw her arms around her. “Don’t leave me again,” she whispered.
Shay made herself hug Preeti back, forced her hand to stroke her long hair. “I promise,” she said. “Let’s put this rat’s nest in a braid. It’s a mess.”
Preeti nodded and let Shay sit her on the cot. Once settled, Preeti rambled on about her day, the hurt of being abandoned blinked out of existence. Shay ran her fingers through the long black hair, twisted the strands into a fishtail, that most complicated of braids. And though she looked calm and mm-hmm-ed along with Preeti’s stories, the words of Preeti’s hurt echoed around inside her like bats in a cave. You abandoned me. You left me. You promised.