A pair of white high-tops stuck out from a mound of jeans and T-shirts on the floor. Only three lumberjack shirts were left on hangers. I wondered if Mrs. Parnell had bought them, because I couldn’t picture Scott in flannel.
Under the bed I found one aluminum bat, one baseball mitt, and one potted plant. I called Vee.
“What does marijuana look like?”
“Five leaves,” Vee said.
“Scott is growing marijuana in here. Under his bed.”
“Are you surprised?”
I wasn’t, but it did explain the Febreze. I wasn’t sure I could picture Scott smoking pot, but I wouldn’t put him past selling it. He was desperate for cash.
“I’ll call back if I find anything else,” I said. I dropped my cell on Scott’s bed and turned a slow circle around the room. There weren’t many hiding places. The underside of the desk was clean. The heating vents were empty. Nothing was sewn into his blanket. I was about to give up when something high in the closet caught my eye. There was damage to the wall.
I dragged the desk chair over and stepped up. A medium-size square hole had been cut out of the wall, but the plaster had been replaced to make it appear as if the hole wasn’t there. Using a wire hanger, I reached up as high as I could and knocked the square of plaster out. From what I could tell, an orange Nike shoe box was crammed into the space. I jabbed at it with the hanger, but ended up pushing it farther back.
A soft buzzing sound broke my concentration, and I realized my cell was ringing on vibrate, the blankets on Scott’s bed muffling the sound.
I jumped down. “Vee?” I answered.
“Get out of there!” she hissed in a panicked undertone. “Scott called again and asked for directions to the warehouse, but I didn’t know which warehouse you told him. I sort of stalled and said I was only the girlfriend, and I didn’t know where the band held its auditions. He asked which warehouse they practiced at, and I said I didn’t know that, either. The good news is, he hung up, so I didn’t have to lie my way into a bigger hole. The bad news is, he’s on his way home. Right now.”
“How much time do I have?”
“Since he already flew past here at about a hundred miles per hour, I’d guess a minute. Or less.”
“Vee!”
“Don’t blame me—you’re the one who wasn’t answering your phone!”
“Chase him down and stall for time. I need two more minutes.”
“Chase him down? How? The Neon has a flat.”
“With your own
“You mean exercise?”
Cradling the phone under my chin, I found a scrap of paper in my handbag and hunted through Scott’s desk for a pen. “It’s less than a fourth of a mile. That’s
“What do I say when I catch him?”
“This is what spies do—they improvise. You’ll think of something. I have to go.” I broke the connection.
Where were all the pens? How could Scott have a desk with no pens, no pencils? Finally I found one in my bag and scribbled a quick note on the scrap of paper. I slid the paper under the hot dog.
Outside, I heard the Mustang roar into the complex’s parking lot.
I crossed to the closet and climbed up a second time. I was stretched on my tiptoes, stabbing at the box with the hanger.
The front door slammed.
“Scott?” I heard Mrs. Parnell say from the kitchen. “What are you doing back so soon?”
I got the hook part of the hanger under the lip of the lid and coaxed it out of the compartment. Once I had it halfway out, gravity did the rest. The box dropped into my hands. I’d just shoved it inside my bag and one-armed the chair back to its place at the desk, when the bedroom door smacked open.
Scott’s eyes found me in an instant. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I wasn’t expecting you to come back so fast,” I stammered.
“The audition was fake, wasn’t it?”
“I—”
“You wanted me out of the apartment.” He crossed to me in two steps and took my arm, giving me a rough shake. “You made a big mistake coming here.”
Mrs. Parnell moved into the doorway. “What’s the matter, Scott? For heaven’s sake, let her go! She came by to pick up the sheet music you forgot.”
“She’s lying. I didn’t forget any sheet music.”
Mrs. Parnell looked at me. “Is that true?”
“I lied,” I confessed shakily. I swallowed, trying to inject a measure of calm into my voice. “The thing is, I really wanted to ask Scott to the Summer Solstice party at Delphic, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in person. This is really awkward.” I walked to the desk and offered him the hot dog along with the scrap of paper I’d scribbled the note on.
“‘Don’t be a wiener,’” Scott read. “‘Go to Summer Solstice with me.’”
“Well? What do you think?” I tried to hold a smile. “Do you want to be a wiener or not?”
Scott looked from the note to the hot dog to me. “What?”
“Well, isn’t that the cutest thing ever,” Mrs. Parnell chimed in. “You don’t want to be a wiener, do you, Scott?”
“Give us a minute, Mom?”
“Is Summer Solstice a dress-up party?” Mrs. Parnell asked. “Like a dance? I could make a reservation at Todd’s Tuxes—”
“Oh. Right. I’ll just be in the kitchen. Nora, I’ve got to hand it to you. I had no idea you were up here planting an invite to the party. I really thought you were picking up sheet music. Very clever.” She winked, then backed out, pulling the door shut behind her.
I was left alone with Scott, and all my relief scattered.
“What are you really doing here?” Scott repeated, his voice significantly darker.
“I told you—”
“Not buying it.” His eyes flicked beyond me, surveying the room. “What did you touch?”
“I came by to give you the hot dog, I swear. I looked in the desk for a pen to write the wiener note, but that’s it.”
Scott strode to the desk, pulled out each drawer, and sifted through the contents. “I know you’re lying.”
I backed toward the door. “You know what? Keep the hot dog, but forget about Summer Solstice. I was just trying to be nice. I was trying to make up for the other night, because I felt responsible for your face getting smashed. Forget I said anything.”
He assessed me in silence. I had no idea if he’d bought my act, but I didn’t care. The only thought running through my mind was of getting out.
“I’ve got my eye on you,” he said at last, in a tone I found to be startlingly threatening. I’d never seen Scott so icily hostile. “Think about that. Every time you think you’re alone, think again. I’m watching you. If I ever catch you in my room again, you’re dead. We all clear?”
I swallowed. “Crystal.”
On my way out, I passed Mrs. Parnell standing near the fireplace, drinking a glass of iced tea. She took a swig, set the glass on the mantel, and flagged me down.
“Scott is quite the boy, isn’t he?” she said.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“I bet you asked him to the party early because you knew all the other girls would race to get in line if you didn’t act fast.”
Summer Solstice was tomorrow night, and everyone going already had dates. Unable to tell this to Mrs. Parnell, I opted for a smile. She could interpret it however she wanted.
