Debutante Hill (22 page)

“No!” Lynn said passionately. “I'm
not!
Why does everyone keep insisting I am?”

“Then what were you doing, chasing him across the parking lot in the first place?” Paul asked. “How did you happen to be there at all?”

“I had a necklace,” Lynn said. “I was trying to return it to him. I never got a chance to.”

“A necklace? You mean one he gave you?”

“Yes,” Lynn answered. “It was his mother's. It—” She hesitated, hating to continue.

“You might as well tell him the whole story,” Dodie broke in briskly. “How Dirk gave it to you and when and all the rest of it. If Paul's going to know any of it, he should know it all.”

Lynn felt her face growing red. “All right,” she said miserably. “I guess I don't have much choice.”

It was the second time she had repeated the story. The time before, when she had told Dodie, she had given all the details—the way she had felt that evening after the fight with Paul; how she had seen him in the treasure hunt crowd outside the party; the way she had cried, and the things she had said, and the things Dirk had said in return. She tried to skip over these things now, but Dodie would not let her. She still stood in the doorway, following her sister's every word, and if Lynn tried to omit any portion of the story, Dodie would interrupt with, “Now, Lynn, that's not the way you told it to me. Go ahead and tell the whole thing.”

By the time she had finished, Lynn's face was burning and she was ready to burst into tears.

There was a moment of silence in the room. Then Paul reached over and touched her hand. “Did—did you really feel that way? I mean, about me?”

Lynn nodded wordlessly.

“Then why didn't you tell me? All you had to do was call me. I felt so rotten about that fight we had. All you had to do was give me the nod, and I would have been here so fast it wouldn't have been funny.”

“You would?” Lynn stared at him. “Then why didn't
you
call
me
?”

“I guess for the same reason you didn't call. I was stubborn. I didn't want to be the one to apologize.” He hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled uncertainly. “I—I'll apologize now, Lynn.”

“I don't want you to apologize,” Lynn said. “There's nothing to apologize for. We were both jealous, and we were both wrong, but I was the wronger. I went ahead and accepted the necklace from Dirk. I knew I shouldn't at the time, but I did, so really I guess I've brought this whole mess on myself.”

“Well,” Paul asked, “what are we going to do about it?”

‘To do about it?” Lynn stared at him as though she were not sure she had heard him correctly. “You mean you think there's something we can do?”

“All along, you've been saying this guy is innocent,” Paul said sensibly. “That's one of the things that's got you messed up in this, in the first place. Surely you've got some reason for thinking so.”

“I don't just think so,” Lynn said, “I
know
so. And what's more, I know who
did
take the wallet and how he did it.” Leaning forward, she began eagerly to tell the story of Brad
and Dirk and the gym bag.

When she had finished, she leaned back expectantly, waiting for Paul's reaction.

“But that's all a lot of speculation,” he said. “You've figured out how this Brad might have taken it, but you don't have any proof. You don't really have anything to go on except the way you feel about it.”

Lynn was disappointed. “Then you don't think we can do anything, after all?”

“No,” Paul said. “Not on that. Not on just what you told me.” He stood up. “Where did you say Dirk Masters works?”

“At Burton's Garage.” Lynn got up, too. “What are you going to do?”

“Talk to him.” Paul glanced at his watch and started toward the door. “It's four-thirty now. I should be able to just nab him, if he gets off at five. That's the garage on 40th, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Lynn caught up with him at the door. “Wait, Paul! I'm going with you.”

“There's no reason for you to do that. I can talk to him by myself.”

“No, I want to be there,” Lynn said stubbornly. “Please, Paul. I'm concerned in this, too.”

Paul hesitated. Then he said, “O.K., if you insist, but I still think it might be better if I went alone. Sometimes fellows can straighten things out better, man-to-man, than they can with a girl around. Especially a girl they've both been going with.”

“I want to be there when you first meet him,” Lynn insisted. “I don't want any fighting or anything. Dirk has a terrible temper sometimes.”

Paul gave her a half smile. “Come on then, Little Peacemaker. But there's not going to be any fighting. I should think Dirk would be pretty glad at this point to have somebody trying to help him.”

“But why
are
you?” Lynn asked in bewilderment. “You've never liked Dirk at all. You called him a ‘tough little smart aleck' when we talked about him at Christmas time.”

Paul nodded in agreement “And I haven't changed my opinion. But even a ‘tough little smart aleck' can get a raw deal. You know him better than I do, and you say he's innocent. You wouldn't be saying that unless you really thought so. And if you think so, that's good enough for me.”

They reached the garage a little before five and parked beside Dirk's car. They were there waiting for him when he came out after work.

Dirk regarded them with surprise. He nodded at Lynn, and then turned his full gaze upon Paul. “What's this, a reception committee? What are you doing here, Kingsley? I thought you were at college.”

“I am,” Paul said. “It's spring vacation. I came home to find Lynn as thin as a toothpick and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and I'm going to try to help her get things straightened out.”

There was a hint of the old sarcasm in Dirk's voice as he answered. “What do you think you're going to do—snap your fingers and make everything all right?”

“Of course not, but maybe we can figure out something.”

Paul put a companionable hand on Dirk's shoulder. “Let's sit down. Want to make it in my car or yours?”

Dirk was silent a moment. Then he stepped forward and opened the door of his car. “O.K.,” he said, “climb in. It may not be much, Kingsley, but it's home.”

It was a feeble joke, but it served its purpose. Suddenly, the tension was eased among them. They climbed into the car, Lynn in back and the boys in front.

“Well, here's the story,” Dirk said. “See what you can make of it.”

It was in substance the same story Lynn had told Paul, with a little more added. Dirk described Brad and told something about his background.

“He's a couple of years older than I am and has an apartment of his own. He never talks about his folks—I don't even know if he has any. He doesn't have a job, but he seems to get along all right. He always has plenty of money for a good time.” Dirk shook his head. “I don't know why I let myself get mixed up with the guy in the first place, except that he had a car, and I didn't, and he was always wanting me to help him with it. And he acted like he liked me and really wanted me along. You wouldn't understand that, Kingsley, always being the head of everything at school—but when you're not part of things, it can make you feel kind of good, having somebody act like he wants you.”

Paul asked, “Does he have a police record? Do you know if he's ever been involved in something like this before?”

“I don't know,” Dirk answered slowly. “Now that I think about it, he might have been. He was always talking about ‘big deals,' laughing at kids like Ronnie Tinner with his drugstore job after school and hinting about how there were easier ways to make money, if you were smart enough
to find them. I never listened to him much. I always figured he was just talking big to impress me.”

They sat in silence a moment. Then Paul asked, “Why don't we go over there now?”

“Where?”

“To Brad's apartment. Let's just walk in and confront him with this thing and see what he has to say.”

“Are you crazy?” Dirk was staring at him. “He'll laugh in our faces!”

“Maybe so,” Paul said. “Maybe not. We can't tell till we get there. There are two of us now, you know. Sometimes it's easier to laugh at one person than at two.”

Dirk said, “It won't do any good. He probably won't even let us in the door.”

“Then we'll walk in.” Paul grinned. “I was captain of the high-school football team, Masters. I think I can push open a door, if I have to. And from what Lynn tells me, you have a pretty good temper yourself. I think with both of us, one on either side of him, Brad Morgan might not think the situation was quite so funny.”

After a moment, Dirk grinned, too. “Maybe he wouldn't, at that. At least it would be worth a try.” He turned to Paul, and slowly his grin faded. “You're sure you want to, Kingsley? I mean, there's no reason why
you
should have to—”

“Of course, I want to,” Paul answered easily. “I wouldn't miss it for the world. After all, it's my idea.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Lynn.

“Drive my car home, will you, Lynn? I'll ride over to Brad's apartment with Dirk.”

“But I'm coming, too!” Lynn exclaimed. “I want to be in on this.”

The boys turned toward her with one accord, and there was the same look on both their faces.

Paul said, “I told you before, Lynn, that there are times when it's better for a girl not to be along. This is one of those times.”

“But—but you might
need
me for—for something!” Lynn turned beseechingly to Dirk. “You want me to come, don't you, Dirk? After all—”

But Dirk was already sliding out of the driver's seat and opening the back door for her.

“Thanks, Princess,” he said, “but Kingsley's right. You'd better go on home.”

“But—but—” Lynn looked from one boy to the other and realized it was hopeless.

She sighed, took up the keys and got out of Dirk's car.

Lynn fidgeted through dinner that evening, with one ear open for the telephone and the other for the doorbell.

“What's the matter, Daughter? You're not eating. Aren't you feeling well?”

Lynn smiled at her father's familiar question. It was one thing that came with having a doctor in the family, every time you didn't gulp down a meal as though you were half starved, you got your temperature taken.

“No,” she said, “I'm just not awfully hungry.”

“Lynn was out for a drive this afternoon,” her mother said pointedly. “Paul came by for her.”

“Paul Kingsley?” Dr. Chambers looked pleased. “Well, is that romance going strong again? Fine, fine! But don't let excitement take away your appetite, Daughter. Growing girls need energy, you know.”

Dodie, who had been unusually quiet during the meal, entered the conversation. “Did he say anything about the Presentation Ball? It's tomorrow night, you know.”

“We never got around to the subject,” Lynn told her.

Dodie nodded, understanding. “Well, there's still time for him to ask you.”

“Yes.”

Lynn thought, the Presentation Ball. She wanted to go; oh, how she wanted to go! It was the one debutante dance that was open to the public, the final big party of the debutante season, and it was supposed to be the grandest party the town had ever known. The debutantes had been practicing every afternoon all week for their grand entrance down the stairs into the ballroom, and Nancy had told her there had even been a special dancing instructor to teach them how to make their curtsies.

“I'm so sore I can hardly move,” Nancy had said, laughing. “It's like doing calisthenics. You go down—down—down—until your head almost touches the ground, and then you have to come up gracefully, without falling. It's quite a trick.”

“It sounds effective,” Lynn had agreed. “I hope I'll be there to see it. I just might, you know. I mean, if Paul comes home and everything is like it used to be.”

Nancy seemed less hopeful. “Don't count on it too much. His letter—his saying he wants to help you if he can—that's swell, of course. But he doesn't say anything about the Ball, and I happen to know Brenda is counting on going with him. She's signed him up on the list as her escort and it seems pretty well settled.”

“Well,” Lynn had said, “we'll see.”

And thinking about it now, she still was not sure how things stood between them. Paul had been wonderful and had seemed genuinely glad to see her. He had apologized for his part in the quarrel and wanted to be friends again. But perhaps that was all he wanted now—to be friends.

Dinner had been over almost an hour when the doorbell finally rang. Lynn, who had been trying to concentrate
on the evening paper, was on her feet in an instant and flew to the door to meet Paul.

When she saw him, she gave a gasp of horror. “What's happened to your hand?”

Paul's hand was wrapped to the wrist with white adhesive tape.

“Just smashed it up a little.” Paul grinned at her. He looked very pleased with himself. “What an evening! Gosh! Where can we sit and talk?”

Lynn led the way into the living room and sank onto the sofa, drawing Paul down beside her. “The family's all upstairs, so you can tell me the whole story. I want to hear everything. Start at the beginning.”