21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (15 page)

Miss
Larson
,
was it?

Abbie
looked back at Susan and smiled. “Okay. Dare accepted.”

Chapter 18

Y
ou can only use three word sentences and
you can’t tell her what’s going on.” Susan sat beside Abbie and urged McKenzie
and the others at the bar to agree. “Wait until we give the okay.”

Abbie
sighed, looked at McKenzie, Rocky, the twins. They stared at her, waiting. She
glanced back at Miss Larson sitting alone in a booth. Getting up from the bar,
Abbie pushed through the crowd. Behind her, McKenzie, Rocky, Susan and the twins
turned in their bar stools to watch. Abbie stopped at the booth. Miss Larson
looked up from her iPad.

“You.
Remember. Me?” Abbie
asked, spacing the words evenly. The girl nodded. Abbie slipped into the booth and
contemplated her next three word sentence. “We. In. Class.”

The
girl looked puzzled. “What?”

“Professor.
Cunningham’s.
Class.”

“Yeah?”
There was an awkward
pause. Abbie twisted the unicorn pendant.

“I.
Am. Abbie.”

“Okay.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to study Abbie with curious intensity. “I’m Dharma.”

 
“I. Know…” Abbie paused. She looked back at the
group sitting at the bar. McKenzie held up two fingers. Abbie looked back at Dharma.
“
That
! I. Know. That.”

Dharma
nodded. Abbie looked back at McKenzie, then back at Dharma. “Are.
You.
Alone.”

The
line of Dharma’s mouth tightened a fraction more. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.
I. Am.”

“Well,
good
then.”

“Thank.
You.”
Abbie paused, thinking, tugging on her necklace.
“Ma’am.”

 
“Have you had too much to drink?” Dharma set
her iPad flat on the table.

“No.”
Abbie scrambled for two more words. Finally she blurted out, “Me. Sober.”

“What?”
Dharma’s eyes shifted and Abbie knew she was looking at McKenzie and the others
at the bar. Then she focused on Abbie again. “What’s going on?”

Abbie
wondered how far she’d have to take this.
“I. Got.
Question.”

“You
got question,” Dharma repeated slowly. “Okay. Ask away.”

“You.
Me.
Date.”

Dharma
straightened in her seat. “Excuse me?”

“Date.
With.
Me.”

Dharma’s
brows narrowed. “Are you sure you haven’t had too much to drink? Can I call
someone?”

“Go.
Out. Together.”

Dharma
slipped out of the booth, revealing the full splendor of the black lace and
satin layers of her dress. She could’ve been going to Prom.
Or
a funeral.
Dharma stood at the edge of the table and turned her head
from Abbie to the group at the bar, then back to Abbie again. “Okay, what’s
going on here?”

McKenzie
and Rocky laughed, leaning into each other and nearly falling off their bar
stools. Susan whistled as the twins clapped. Several other patrons at the bar
turned their heads to see what was going on. McKenzie waved then ran her hand
across her throat, gesturing to Abbie to end it. Abbie let go of her necklace.
The unicorn pendant swayed beneath her neck.

“I’m
sorry.” Abbie could feel her cheeks blush. “It’s my twenty-first birthday and
my party posse at the table over there dared me to ask out a girl using only three
word sentences.”

“Really?”
Dharma slipped back
into her seat. “Are you sure they’re your friends?”

“The
jury’s still out, but either way, they’re helping me celebrate.”

McKenzie
and Rocky walked over to the booth. “That was classic,” McKenzie said, scooting
into the bench seat next to Abbie. “Now send the mission complete text.”

Susan looked over at three
girls sitting at the bar. They had shots lined up and a woman with frosted
highlights in her hair sat the
center .
She wore a
cheap, silver tiara. Susan motioned to the girl.

“Did
you see our friend here?” she asked, laughing. “She hit on this girl at the
table and could only talk using three word sentences. Wasn’t it hilarious?”

They’d
clearly been watching the whole thing, but Highlights in the tiara said
nothing. She shot daggers at Susan with her eyes. Her friends glared too.

“
You having
a birthday party too?” Susan asked.

Highlight’s
eyebrows narrowed. “I have a boyfriend.”

Surprised,
Susan stepped back. She looked at the girls,
then
smirked. “That’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind if he watches.”

Rocky yelled at Susan
to come join them. Susan pulled a bar stool over to the booth. Abbie sent the
text. Susan introduced herself to Dharma.

“Please,”
Dharma said. “Have a seat.”

“We’re
not really crazy,” Rocky said. “Abbie is celebrating her birthday by playing
twenty-one dares.”

“I
gathered as much,” Dharma said, nodding, then turned to Abbie.
“By the way, happy birthday.”

Abbie
started to say something when her phone chirped in her hands. McKenzie and
Rocky’s phones beeped, and they both instantly looked down. The
twins
phones went off, and Susan leaned over Lindsey’s
shoulder to get a better look.

Abbie
read the dare.
 

Abbie
looked up from her phone. “I don’t sing.”

“Don’t
worry about it.” Susan grabbed her hand. “It’s a rap.”

Abbie
pulled her hand away. “I’m serious. I don’t sing.”

Susan
raised her arms and curved her hands as if she were framing a headline. “Stop
the presses! A karaoke singer can’t sing, says Abbie Reed. Print it!”

“I-I-I’m
serious. I can’t get up there and sing in front of all these people.”

Susan
took Abbie by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun,” she said. “If you want to meet
Jess Williams, you’re gonna have to do it.”

“It’s
Whedon.
Joss Whedon.”
Abbie yelled. Susan tugged harder
on her arm, forcing her out of the booth and leading her across the crowded
bar. They came to a stage along the back wall. Large speakers blocked
either end, and
a mic stood in the center. Susan motioned
for the short guy wearing a fedora to pull up the 50 Cent song.

The
first beats of “In Da Club” blared through the speakers.

“Hold
it. Hold everything!” McKenzie came up after them. She yelled over the pulsing
beats, and bound up the steps onto the stage. “You’re not singing 50 Cent.”

Susan
looked indignant. “But it’s the dare.”

“We’re
picking another song.” McKenzie pointed to the man in the fedora. “Pick another
song.”

Susan
approached McKenzie and the DJ. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“I
don’t care,” McKenzie said. “Abbie doesn’t rap.”

“I
don’t sing either.” Abbie took a step toward the edge of the stage. Susan
grabbed her arm and swung her back toward the microphone. McKenzie pushed the
fedora wearing DJ aside and switched off the rap song. Her fingers typed on the
computer, flipping through songs. Finally she lifted her head and said, “Ah,
hah. Here’s the song.”

Abbie
stood behind the mic, waiting. She looked out at the crowd. Three bright lights
shined in her eyes. Still she saw hundreds of eyes, staring, waiting. She
dreaded the prospect of singing.
Alone.
On stage.
It petrified her. It always had. When she was
thirteen, she’d turned down the chance to be the lead angel at her church
Christmas pageant. She would’ve had to sing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” alone, all
by herself. Her grandmother was so disappointed. But, singing in her bedroom,
in the shower, even to Clem—she lived for that.

Abbie
looked at McKenzie, who pointed at the monitor. The song title and copyright
info flashed on the screen, and Abbie shut her eyes. “Why?”

“Because,
it’s all you’ve been talking about,” McKenzie said. “And because it’s the only
stalker song I could find.”

Abbie
looked into the spotlight as the speakers crackled. A few people in the
audience cheered. Others clapped. She wondered if
he
was out there now, among them, watching her. She looked at the
lyric monitor as the first chords of Sting’s “Every Breath You Take” began over
the loud speakers. She trembled,
then
spoke the first
couple words of the song. She was too early though, and repeated the line a
couple of beats later. She looked over at McKenzie, who was urging her on.
Abbie sang the next line, off-key, and basically whispered into the mic.

 
“Louder,” Susan yelled.

Abbie
cleared her throat,
then
sang a little louder. Her
voice warbled. She could feel his eyes on her, and she wanted to get out of the
spotlight. She wanted to hide, shrivel up,
disappear
like a waft of smoke. McKenzie put an arm around her. She yelled into the mic
in time with the music, “I’ll be watching you!”

McKenzie
raised an arm and pointed at Abbie. “This is my dearest, closest friend Abbie
Reed and it’s her twenty-first birthday and she’s got a birthday stalker, so let’s
give her a hand!”

Thunderous
clapping erupted in the bar as McKenzie joined in the song with Abbie. As the
two sang, Susan approached her and joined in. She waved to the twins, and Lindsey
and Lindsay came up on stage.

As the
girls sang, Rocky returned to the booth with Dharma and set a couple of cell
phones on the table. He clapped along with the crowded bar and watched Susan on
stage, flipping a flat pump off her foot. It flew into the crowd. She egged on
the others, and McKenzie pulled the pink ribbon off her head, letting her hair
fall. Rocky turned away and nodded toward Dharma.

“The
birthday girl believes she’s got a stalker.”

“And
you’re what, watching over her?” Dharma scratched her head, tousling her white
blonde hair. “Why don’t you get up there and join them?”

“I
would, but I woulda picked a different song.
Maybe ‘Somebody’s
Watching Me’ or something like that.”

“The Michael Jackson song?”

“Sounds
like Jackson, but it’s some one-hit-wonder.” He took another swig from his
frosted mug. “You know how it goes,
I
always feel like somebody’s watching me
.”

“Oh,”
she said, clearly not understanding the joke. Rocky leaned toward her.

“So
what’s a girl like you doing at the Grotto, alone?”

She
eyed him. “Well, if you must know, I’m getting stood up.”

“You’re
on a date?”

“Yeah,
I am. But I guess the guy I’m supposed to meet here isn’t on the same date as
me.”

Rocky
laughed. “That’s great. It gives us an opportunity to talk.”

“It
does?” She looked perplexed. Rocky smiled. She leaned across the table.
“So exactly which one of those girls up there on stage is your
girlfriend?”

“Whoah!”
Rocky raised his voice and lifted his
arms. “Back the bus up. I was just making conversation.
Wanted
to ask you a question.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “Are you happy
with your income?”

“Excuse me?” It clearly wasn’t the question she
expected.

“
I used
to have a corporate job,” he said. “That was a rat race and, regardless how
hard I worked for the company, my income was tied to some market standard. But
in my new career with Vitamin Ritamin, that’s not the case.”