Heart

Ten

We so did not appreciate his attitude or his words, and so we, without discussing it, decided to not  take heed to his warning; and we didn’t. In fact, the very next day, we got right back into our little investigation. Today we planned on doing a few more interviews, and I would actually be participating this time. Our targets were Melanie, Laura, and Gabriella’s boyfriend, Ashton Briggs---not Kutcher, although Briggs was almost as gorgeous.

“Okay, we’re going stealth mode,” Alan announced once he picked me up. It was just before noon, and he hadn’t exactly told me where we were headed yet. All I knew was that he was driving towards downtown. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he was going to introduce me to his mysterious friends, but I squashed it immediately. There was no way that was ever going to happen.

“And why is that?” I asked, absently glancing out the window.

“Well, you are going stealth mode, anyway,” he clarified, making a turn.

I swiveled my head over to look at him. “Why just me?” I inquired suspiciously.

“Uhhh . . . Well, you’re the main suspect in this case. And I’m sure that most people have heard about that, including Ashton, Melanie, and Laura. They’re not liable to talk to you about the whole Gabriella thing.”

“So that means I have to wear a disguise? Huh, yeah right.”

He shut his eyes slowly and sighed. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Just go along with me for once.”

I frowned. “You wouldn’t like me any other way,” I mocked, using his phrase from yesterday.

One corner of his mouth lifted.

About twenty minutes later, Alan had driven us both to the grungy cinema/pizzeria downtown. There weren’t many cars parked there, and the few that were, were old rusty clunkers that looked like they might not start up again. A few wangsters sat on the hoods with their arms wrapped around girls while they guffawed with their guy friends. From the second story windows, I could see silhouettes gliding back and forth as they socialized and ate pizza.

I opened my mouth to ask something, but Al interrupted me. “Just wait, Kara. You’ll see.”

I chose not to comment, and silently slipped out of his truck. He met me at the front and deliberately set his pace to match mine, staying close enough that our arms brushed every now and then. I didn’t really understand at first, because I was too busy getting anxious about the looks those homely wangsters were throwing my way. Al must have noticed too, for he slipped his arm over my shoulders and pressed me against his side, surprising me a little. I glanced up at his face in time to see him give searing looks to the guys hanging around.

“You, uh, should probably stick close,” he murmured under his breath, pulling the entrance door open, “Guys here don’t have much experience with . . .respectable girls.”

The pang of apprehension I felt kept me glued to Al’s side for the short foray. He seemed to know exactly where to go already, which made me guess that he had preplanned this. I didn’t fail to notice the probing, frankly disrespectful stares some of these pigs gave me as we passed through the cinema part of the building and towards the staircase. Music from the pizzeria floated softly down the stairwell and only grew slightly louder when we entered the room. Alan paused at the top, seeming to look for someone, and then he continued forward again. I probably looked like some unnatural growth on his ribcage as he weaved through the scruffy crowd and tables. The guys here unnerved me.

Alan led us all the way into a back corner away from most of the teens. A black-haired girl sat at the round table, an unlit cigarette between her lips. She was poised as if she had an attitude, and her clothes supported that notion. She looked like she belonged to one of the pigs thronging the place.