A Killing Notion: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery (21 page)

I texted Gracie right away to tell her my suspicions and warn her to keep her eyes open and stay safe. And then I drove, pedal to the metal, while Madelyn made phone calls, first to the sheriff’s office, then to Will, and finally to her husband, Billy. She filled each one in on different information.

“We’re worried about Carrie Levon,” she told Gavin, filling him in on what we’d discovered. “We’re on our way to the high school. Her mom, too. Carrie’s supposed to meet her at the door, but you may need to be there.”

“The school won’t release her until the dance is over,” I said. Gracie had told me how strict the rules were. Once you were at the dance, you were there until it was over. These were extenuating circumstances, but I still felt sure we’d need the sheriff to do the heavy lifting with the school’s admin team to allow Carrie to leave.

“On my way,” Gavin said. No ifs, ands, or buts from
him, which was unusual. Instead of being a comfort, it filled me with more unease. What if we were too late?

She called Will next, putting him on speaker. Once again, we told the story of what we’d discovered. “So Sue Blake isn’t dead? You think she killed her father, attacked Otis, and now she may target Carrie?”

I took the next right, following the farm-to-market road to the high school. While prom was usually held at a hotel ballroom in a nearby city, homecoming was all about celebrating hometown. “I think Carrie recognized Sue Blake,” I said. “They both went to Granbury High School.” I didn’t say what we both knew . . . that Sue Blake
knew
Carrie recognized her, which meant Carrie was probably scared out of her mind and worried for her own safety.

“I’ll meet you at the school,” he said, and then he was gone.

Somewhere between Sally’s house and the farm-to-market road, Sally’s taillights had disappeared into the darkness. She didn’t care about speeding, or driving the dark country roads in the dark, or about anything but getting to Carrie.

I gave the old truck more gas. Two knights in shining armor were on their way to the school, that was good, but there was no time to waste. Madelyn and I would be at Bliss High before either Will or Gavin made it—and we couldn’t be too late. Madelyn left a message for her husband. “Off on a case with Harlow, love. Catching another murderer. When you moved me from London to a small Texas town, you undersold it.”

She hung up and put her phone into her camera bag,
something she never left home without. She hung on to the door handle as I took a sharp turn. “He’s teaching tonight,” she said. “He hates the night classes at the university, but it does leave me time to sleuth with you.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. Sleuthing took time away from sewing, and right now, I longed for a drawn-out boring day in my workroom.

It felt like an eternity, but we actually made it to the school in record time. The roundabout was filled with limos rented for the night, so I hightailed it to the football parking lot, found a spot, and Madelyn and I piled out, running across the asphalt to the front entrance.

“Oh. My. God.” Madelyn doubled over, panting, at the front door. I had to work to catch my breath, but was in better shape than she was. All my years of walking in Manhattan hadn’t worn off yet, and living off the square meant that I walked everywhere I could in Bliss, too.

I grabbed the door handle and pulled, but the thing didn’t budge. “Buttoned up tight.”

“Odd,” Madelyn said.

“Odder that two childless women want in, I reckon.” Still, I cupped my hands and peered through the glass, hoping to see a teacher or parent chaperone.

A face suddenly appeared on the other side of the glass, startling me. I jumped back, clutching my chest, a distinct feeling that we were in the midst of a horror movie coming over me.

“Doors are locked until the dance is over,” the woman said through the glass.

“They lock the kids in?” Madelyn stared at her as if it
were the woman’s personal decision to have such tight security.

“Standard practice. Helps us keep the kids safe from leaving without permission, and keeps people who don’t belong here”—she looked Madelyn and me up and down, the implication heavy in her eyes—“from coming inside.”

And then, before we could cajole her to make an exception, she was gone.

“Great. The homecoming dance lock-in.”

I turned around. Where was Sally? Had she managed to get around the security system? Had Carrie been snuck out, and were they already gone, Carrie safe and sound?

I peered at the high school’s driveway. One way in and one way out. We’d have passed each other on the farm-to-market road if she’d already collected her daughter. So Sally and Carrie had to be here somewhere.

“Come on.” I headed across the lawn toward the indoor gym where I knew there was a second entrance.

“Maybe I should wait here,” Madelyn said, still panting. “In case someone comes by, you know.”

“No, you’re not staying here!” I went back, grabbed her by the wrist, and yanked her forward. “We are sticking together. Murderer, remember?”

“She’s a girl—”

“Who’s killed one man and injured another.”

She looked over her shoulder as if she were longing to stay put, but she trudged along with me instead. Madelyn was no fool. If Sue Blake got to her car, she could ram either of us down. Whether it was true or not, I felt stronger as a pair, and I suspected that Madelyn did, too.

“Aren’t the doors all going to be locked?” she asked.

“They didn’t use to be, but I guess things have changed, haven’t they?”

“It’s a scary world out there.”

We made it to the gym door and tried the handle. Locked. I peered through the glass. “Look, someone’s there,” I said. I waved, but whoever was there didn’t see us.

I pushed my glasses to the top of my head and rubbed my eyes. “Think,” I muttered. “How are we going to get in?” How could we get into the building? If it was secure against teenagers, it was certainly secure against two thirtysomething women.

We traipsed along the perimeter of the school, heading toward the one possible flaw in the security system I remembered from high school. The band director’s window. Mr. Campbell was an institution at Bliss High. He’d been a smoker back when I’d been in school, and I was willing to bet he hadn’t kicked the habit. The school had been, and still was, a nonsmoking campus, so Mr. Campbell had cracked open the window in his office, lit up, and blown the smoke out. All the kids knew, but Mr. Campbell was like everyone’s favorite uncle, so no one ratted him out.

My brother, Red, and I had snuck onto campus once or twice using this very path. Not our finest moments, but memorable. I could have found the window with my eyes closed, and in minutes, we were standing in front of it. “Our way in,” I said, gesturing toward the small opening. “Mr. Campbell never remembers to close the window after his smoke break.”

“Top-notch security,” Madelyn whispered to me.

“Thank heavens for bad habits.”

I pushed the window up and scurried up and over the windowsill with all the aplomb of an over-the-hill gymnast. Madelyn’s entry was less graceful—and that was saying a lot. I pulled her arms as she flung one leg over the sill, then the other, finally tumbling to the floor inside the office.

“Remind me next time that the dangerous part of tracking down a killer is the breaking and entering . . . minus the breaking.”

Of course, there wouldn’t be a next time—how many murders could one small town have, and how many could I help solve?—but I didn’t mention that now.

We followed the
thrump thrump thrump
of the music’s baseline echoing in the building, but I couldn’t pinpoint the direction. Madelyn tiptoed ahead, peering down the different hallways. She looked at me over her shoulder. “So, Detective Cassidy, where to?”

“They’ve remodeled since I went here,” I said, not knowing how to follow the yellow brick road. “The dances used to be in the cafeteria.” I pointed down the center hallway. “Down there, I think.”

We walked, our feet sounding hollow against the floor. The music grew louder and louder. At the end of the corridor, we made a right turn and there it was: the homecoming dance. The entrance to the cafeteria was decorated with scalloped crepe paper and streamers in black, red, and white. Enormous three-foot-round homecoming mums hung from each point of the scallops, more streamers hanging from them. Through the glass windows spanning the width of the cafeteria, I could see the festive decorations continued with black, red, and
white balloons, tables laden with teenage-centric appetizers and sweets, others with punch bowls and small clear plastic cups, and more streamers hanging from the ceiling.

I looked around. The coast was as clear as it was going to get. “Come on,” I said, crooking my finger and beckoning to Madelyn. I darted to the doors and slipped into the cafeteria, Madelyn on my heels.

Inside, twinkle lights, a spinning reflective ball, and ambient light kept the room darker than the hallway had been. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust. “Keep to the wall,” I said, hoping we wouldn’t be spotted by an on-duty administrator who’d be sure to kick us out. We were trespassing, after all.

“Where’s the cavalry?” Madelyn whispered.

“Maybe they can’t get in,” I said, but I forgot about them the next second as I spotted the makeshift stage in the front of the room. The DJ was set up on one side. A teacher stepped up to the microphone and tapped it, sending an echo through the speakers, and then cleared her throat.

“Welcome, Bliss High School students!” she said, her voice booming into the room.

A cheer went up from the students.

“It’s time to welcome your homecoming court!” she said. She held her arm to the side, the DJ played a drumroll, and the woman introduced the prince and princess from the freshman class. They made their way to the stage, arms linked.

My heart beat erratically. Carrie was homecoming princess for the sophomores. Was she still here and in
danger, or had her mother come and whisked her away, and was she safe?

“And now, the homecoming prince and princess for the sophomore class,” the teacher announced. “Jacob Walters and Carrie Levon!”

I held my breath. Carrie didn’t appear.

“Jacob Walters and Carrie Levon!” the teacher repeated.

Jacob Walters broke through the crowd, looking around, presumably for his homecoming princess. He made his way to the front.

Still, Carrie didn’t show.

The crowd had grown quiet, kids looking this way and that for the missing homecoming royalty. The teacher tapped the microphone as if the problem was that she hadn’t been heard, not that the princess was MIA. “Carrie Levon?” she said for the third time.

Suddenly, a cheer went up and the crowd parted like the Red Sea. I could just see the very top of Carrie’s blond bob glowing under the disco lights as she walked through the center of the throng. I heaved a sigh of relief. She was still here, and she was safe.

She wasn’t smiling, but she accepted a bouquet of flowers, took Jacob’s arm, and together they walked onto the stage. A small, flat purse lay against her side, the gold chain strap crossing over her front at the same angle as her homecoming sash. Maybe she’d been about to leave with her mother, but they’d called her name instead. Despite the trauma in her life at the moment, in her vibrant emerald dress and the shimmering tiara, she was beautiful. I wondered what her deepest desires were at the
moment. Justice for her father? Wanting someone to pay for hurting him?

If I’d made her dress, they’d be coming true.

I knew the pain she was feeling had to be excruciating. She was putting on a brave face for the homecoming event, but inside was all her uncertainty about her father’s recovery after his near-death experience.

But I hadn’t made her dress, so she’d have to come to peace on her own terms, and in her own time.

“What do we do now?” Madelyn asked.

It was a great question. As I saw it, we had a few options:

1) Roam the crowd and look for Sue Blake;

2) Wait for Gavin and the rest of the intrepid Bliss law enforcement team to show up;

3) Go straight for Carrie to escort her out of here once the homecoming court presentation was over.

Number three seemed best. “Follow me,” I said, my voice barely audible above the hundreds of teenage conversations going on. We kept close to the wall as we skirted the perimeter of the room, getting closer to the stage with every step.

The teacher on the stage had already brought up the prince and princess of the junior class, and now the DJ had a drumroll sounding as the homecoming king and queen were called out. The crowd applauded, the couple ascended the steps to the stage, and the Bliss High School royalty was complete.

I tried to catch Carrie’s eye, but she stared straight into the crowd. She gripped her flowers with one hand, the chain strap of her purse with the other. She looked
ready to bolt. I suspected that Jacob’s hold around her waist was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Scanning the back of the room, I looked for Sally. She had to be here somewhere, had to have found her way into the school like Madelyn and I had, but so far, there was no sign of her.

I spotted Leslie, Gracie, Danica, Holly, and the rest of their group standing in front of the crowd and knocked Madelyn with the back of my hand, pointing. “There’s—”

“Can I help you?” a man said from behind me.

I whirled around . . . and bumped smack into a portly man in a gray pinstripe suit. “Mmph, sorry!” I stepped back and started to turn back toward the stage, but he grabbed my wrist.

“Ma’am, you are not allowed in here. This is a school function and—”

I notched my head toward Gracie. “I’m here to see my . . . my . . . stepdaughter,” I finally said, going with what would make the most sense to him. Better than saying my boyfriend’s daughter or some girl I knew.

“I don’t care if you’re here to see Jesus Christ himself, you’re not allowed in here.”

For the first time, I noticed the walkie-talkie in his left hand. He raised it to his mouth, depressed a button with his finger, and started talking. “Officer Cole, we have two individuals who need to be escorted off campus. Would you please assist?”