Sammy Keyes and the Cold Hard Cash (14 page)

TWENTY-SIX

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I said as I stepped out of the bathroom.

Grams heaved a big sigh. “Well, hooray. I was worried you were back to keeping secrets.”

I swatted back my fluttering conscience and said, “I actually think you’d better sit down.”

She studied me as she sidestepped toward the living room. “What on earth have you gotten into now…?”

“It’s not me,” I said, coaxing her along.

“Then who? Marissa?”

“Marissa’s fine.” Then I muttered, “As fine as you can be when your father’s got a gambling problem, anyway.”

She gasped. “Is that what’s going on there?”

I nodded. “But never mind about that. This isn’t about her.”

She’d done an over-the-shoulder glancy sidestep the whole way to the living room, and now she was just standing there. “Why do you look so serious?”

“Because you’re going to be upset.” I pointed to the sofa. “Sit.”

“Samantha! What’s this about?”

“Sit.”

So she sat down and clasped her hands in her lap. “Tell me.”

“It’s Lady Lana.”

Her eyes went wide, and she sat up straighter and gasped. “Is she all right?”

I rolled my eyes and plopped into the easy chair. “Oh, she’s
fine.
”

Grams let out a breath and relaxed a little. “So?”

“So she’s still in town.”

Grams just sat there, her hands clasped, quiet.

Waiting.

So I took a deep breath and said, “She’s dating Casey and Heather’s dad.”

I could see the wheels start to turn in her head. First slowly, and then as what I’d said sank in, really, really fast. And when she’d built up a nice head of angry steam, I filled in the details about what had happened at the Landmark Broiler. By the time I was done, she’d completely forgotten about Officer Borsch and Rex-the-Jackal-Randolf and was storming around the apartment calling my mother a “duplicitous diva” and swearing that she was done with her.

I just sat back and watched, feeling hugely relieved.

I was off the hook!

And the money was still mine.

Grams went to her room to lie down, and I putzed around the apartment feeling very clever. Only after a while my cleverness high kinda wore off and I started feeling a little bad.

Actually, I started feeling
really
bad.

I had totally played my grandmother.

And I’d used my own mother to do it.

I found myself sitting on the couch staring at the wall.

My head started to feel like it was going to boil over again.

And now I also had an awful, icky feeling brewing in my gut.

When I finally stopped staring at the wall, I decided that I had to hide the money before I went to the pool party. I needed my backpack, and there was no way I was going to risk having it stolen at the pool party. After all,
Heather
was sure to be there.

So with Grams safely in the bedroom, I unzipped a sofa cushion and lined up the stacks of cash along the back side of the foam. When I was all done, I tested it, and you could totally not tell anything was there.

I did the same thing with the camera.

And when I was ready to leave for the pool party, I took the sweatshirt and jeans I’d bought out of the backpack and peeked into Grams’ room. She was lying on the bed, but her eyes were open. “I’m going to get going,” I said, easing inside and casually slipping the new clothes inside my drawer of Grams’ dresser.

“Where are you going again?” she asked, like she was in a complete daze.

“To the pool party, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

“I’m picking up Holly and we’re riding over together.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

I went over and kissed her on the top of her head. “Forget about her, Grams.”

She shook her head. “Where did she get her selfish streak?”

I snorted. “It’s not a streak, Grams. She’s covered in it.” I rubbed her shoulder. “And not from you, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I am tired of being treated like a doormat.” She looked up at me and patted my hand. “You go and have fun. I’ll see you…When do you think you’ll be home?”

“I don’t know…. It’ll be a while.” I started for the door, saying, “Why don’t you call Hudson? Why don’t you go
talk
to Hudson? He gives really good advice, you know.”

She nodded absently. “Maybe I will. It was nice to talk to him yesterday.” Then she added, “He’s a good man, taking Mikey under his wing.”

So I got out of there and crossed the street, but before I went over to Holly’s, I ducked into the Heavenly Hotel. “Any news?” I called out to André.

There were people hanging around the lobby, so he waved me over. “Your Sergeant Borsch left here very skeptical,” he said, leaning across the counter, “but returned with a whole new attitude.”

“Yeah? What did he tell you?”

One eyebrow arched way up and the other scrunched waaaay down while his cigar went for a little stroll to the far corner of his mouth. “The manager couldn’t ID the guy in the picture, but your secret knock worked like a charm.”

“And?”

“And the man in four-two-seven says he’s never seen the guy in the picture before in his life, doesn’t know any Buck Ritter, and has never been over to the Heavenly…but your Sergeant Borsch doesn’t believe him.”

“Really.”

André shook his head. “Said the man was nervous, un-cooperative, and definitely hiding something.”

“So what’s he going to do now?”

“Well, he was very curious about some things.”

“Like…?”

“Like how I knew about the knock, where I got the picture, and what I think was taken out of Buck’s room.” His eyebrows evened out while his cigar shot to the middle of his mouth, where it stuck out at me like a cannon.

“So what did you tell him?”

“I told him a whole lot of nothing.” One eyebrow started reaching for the sky again. “But your Sergeant Borsch won’t get a search warrant unless he knows what he’s searching for.”

“Hmm. That does make sense,” I said with a shrug.

He did his camel-lip curl. “So now what?”

I gave a big shrug this time. “
I
don’t know. Whatever you want. You were the one duped….”

His lips stayed curled back for the longest time, and I was actually starting to get a little nervous over the way he was staring at me. Finally he rolled the cigar to one side and said, “There’s something fishy about this whole situation.”

“Yeah, I agree,” I said. But since I was feeling like it was
me
he was starting to get suspicious of, I said, “I don’t know how else I can help you, André. Maybe you should go over there and, you know, confront the guy in four-two-seven yourself? Or maybe you should just let it go. Whatever that guy took wasn’t yours, right?”

“I
had
let it go,” he grumbled, “until you came in here and started stirring things up.”

“
Me?
Look, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” I started moving toward the door. “And now I’m late getting to a pool party, so…whatever.”

“Hey!” he called after me. “I do appreciate it!”

I nodded and waved and clanged out the door.

I hit the sidewalk, and I should have been relieved, but my stomach was suddenly squooshy again. André had been a hard-won ally. Someone who’d gone from distrusting me to being my friend.

And here I had totally played him, too.

Just like I had my grams.

I tried to shove the thought from my mind as I jangled through the Pup Parlor door. “Hey, Vera! Hi, Meg!” They were busy shaping pouf balls on the ankles of a large poodle.

“Sammy!” they both cried.

I laughed. “It’s always so nice to come here.”

“Always so nice to see you!” they said in unison. Then Meg added, “Holly’s upstairs. Thanks for dragging her out to this. She’s still a bundle of nerves.”

She was, too. I found her sitting on the edge of her bed with her backpack on her lap and a kind of wide-eyed fear on her face. I plopped down next to her and laughed. “I can’t believe you!” I shook my head and said, “You’ve survived so much—this pool party is not gonna kill you!” I stood up and grabbed her arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

She pulled back. “You know how mean they can be.”

“Who? Girls?” I sat down again. And something about Holly’s battle with nerves calmed the squooshies of my own stomach. “Look, it’s not a beauty pageant. We’re playing water hoops! To the death!”

“But Marissa told me Heather’s going to be there.” She looked at me. “Heather calls me Trash Digger. Still. Did you know that?”

I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let Heather ruin the day. “She calls everybody something. I’m Loser, remember? Who cares? Just stay in the pool—I’m sure she won’t even get in. She’ll be afraid to get her hair wet.” I pulled a hideous face and screeched, “I’m mellllllting!”

Holly laughed and then smiled at me. “Thanks.”

“So let’s go!” I jumped up. “Water hoops—to the death!”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Brandon McKenze’s mother is a stay-at-home mom. And, according to Marissa, since she’s only got Brandon to stay at home for, she’s made a career out of being involved in his life. She’s PTO president, coordinates school book fairs and fund-raisers, and helps out at swim meets.

Brandon’s father is an eye surgeon. Or more like a
vision
surgeon. He does those laser treatments on people’s eyes so they can get rid of their glasses, and he’s kind of a celebrity in Santa Martina because television ads for his “world-renowned vision center” run all the time.

Personally, I think the ads are kinda cheesy, but judging by Dr. McKenze’s gorgeous brick castle of a house, with its fairy-tale climbing ivy and acre of circular driveway, they’re effective.

“I had no idea,” Holly gasped as we took in the house from the street. She let out a low whistle. “And I thought
Marissa’s
house was over the top.”

“It is,” I laughed.

“Are they in competition?”

I didn’t get the question at all. “Competition? Who?”

“Marissa’s family and these guys.”

“I don’t know,” I said as I grabbed my skateboard. “I never thought about it before.”

She picked up her skateboard, too, and walked with me up toward the house. “Well, have they always been rich?”

“Marissa’s family made a ton of money on the stock market.” I nodded up at the house. “These guys moved here when Marissa and I were in fifth grade.”

“So only a few years.”

I shrugged. I didn’t think the subject was very interesting. Who cared? Both families were obviously really rich.

Then we heard, “Hey, wait up!” from behind us, and when we turned around, there was the DeVries Nursery truck, making a teen girl delivery. Marissa scrambled out first, followed by Dot.

“Call ven you vant a ride home,
ja
?” Mr. DeVries said out the passenger window.

“I will!” Dot said back, and we all waved goodbye as he pulled away.

Marissa was wearing sparkly green flip-flops, green shorts that were kinda, well,
short,
and a white halter top. She was also wearing a sun hat and oversized sunglasses, and was lugging along a big duffel full of who knows what that was totally throwing off her balance.

“Stop scrutinizing me,” she said, flip-flopping toward us.

“Am I scrutinizing you?” I asked, all innocent-like.

“Duh,” she said, and I know her eyes rolled behind her movie-star glasses, even though I couldn’t see them.

“How are your parents?” I whispered when we were walking side by side.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said under her breath.

So I dropped it and just tagged along as she led the way, following pool-party-thataway signs around the house to the backyard.

Brandon’s backyard is definitely over the top. Besides the pool, which has loungers, patio tables, and chairs all around it, there’s an enormous covered patio, plus a row of cabanas for changing clothes and a
bathroom
cabana. All that makes sense, especially if you’re going to invite a bunch of teenagers over and you don’t want them dripping through the house or peeing in the pool, but just because it makes sense doesn’t mean that most people
have
those things.

Shoot, most people don’t even have a pool.

And as if that’s not enough luxury for one backyard, there’s also a
putting green
on the far end of the property.

“Wow,” Holly and Dot whispered as we wound around the walkway that led to the pool area.

“Yeah,” I said. “Can you believe people live like this?”

I spotted Brandon with a group of his high school friends, and saw his mother, who was directing some girls I recognized from the softball game as they brought platters of food out to a long table on the patio.

Marissa suddenly skidded to a stop. “She’s here
already
?”

My focus instantly switched to the direction Marissa was looking, and there she was, the Bummer of Summer herself, laying an oversized hot-pink towel over one of the lounge chairs.

“I
hate
that she’s here!” Marissa seethed. “And look at her, acting like she owns the place. This is
my
cousin’s house!” Marissa’s feet were planted, but the rest of her was shooting forward. She looked like a fancy-schmancy poodle yanking on an invisible leash.

“Eeeeasy,” I said, putting a hand on her arm. “The best thing you can do is act like you don’t care, remember?”

“There’s Danny!” Dot whispered. “On the patio!”

People suddenly seemed to be coming from everywhere. From inside the house, from behind us, from a flagstone walkway winding through shrubs and palm trees on the
other
side of the pool…. I felt like a boulder in the middle of Teen River.

“Can we park somewhere?” I asked.

Marissa snapped to. “Yeah. Let’s stake out
our
territory.” Then she marched straight for a lounger on the opposite side of the pool from Heather, laid out
her
towel, and got her bag all…
situated.
You know, first she had it on one side of the lounger, then she moved it to the foot of the lounger, then she put it on the
other
side of the lounger, and finally she pushed it halfway
under
the lounger.

Holly, Dot, and I just stood by, watching.

“What are you staring at?” Marissa huffed. “Grab a seat before they’re all gone!”

I shoved my skateboard under her lounger and dumped my backpack next to her bag. “Done.”

Holly did the same.

Dot looked around uncomfortably. “There aren’t that many loungers….”

Marissa was not happy with our junk everywhere but didn’t actually
say
anything. She just sat down and swung her legs around. “Which is why you need to grab one before somebody else does!”

I took Dot’s bag out of her hand and put it next to the backpacks. “We’re not here to
lounge,
Marissa. We’re here to play water hoops.” I sorta frowned at her. “This is no way to compete with Heather.”

Her jaw seemed set in cement.

“You don’t
want
to compete with her this way. This isn’t you!”

She crossed her arms and tilted up her nose. So after a minute of just standing there, I shook my head and said, “Come on,” to the other two and took off.

While I led Holly and Dot over to the patio area, Marissa stayed put, glaring through her movie-star glasses at Heather, who was casually rubbing herself down with sunscreen.

“Sam-my!” Brandon called when he spotted me, and when we were closer, he said, “Holly and Dot, right?” They nodded and smiled, and he slung his arm around my shoulders and called out to the world at large, “Everyone! This is Sammy, Holly, and Dot!” Then he turned to me and dropped his voice. “Where’s Marissa?”

I pointed across the pool.

“That’s
Marissa
?” he said.

Brandon’s mother was suddenly right beside us. Her eyes twinkled at her son. “She’s a teenager now, you know.” She smiled at me and said, “So nice to see you again, Samantha,” then turned to Holly and Dot. “Welcome!”

She was off again before we could say anything back, and Brandon wasn’t shy about putting us to work. “We’re kinda behind on everything. Can you bring out the hoop and divide the skullcaps?” He pointed toward a flagstone walkway. “It’s all in the storage shed back there.”

“We’re on it,” I said, heading out.

“And suit up!” he called after us. “No lounging around!”

“Tell that to your cousin!” I called back.

We meandered back to the “storage shed,” which was actually a cabana for
stuff,
hidden among shrubs and palms. “I feel like I’m at a resort,” Dot said when I handed her the plastic tub of blue and red water polo skullcaps. “And everyone’s being so
nice.
”

I grinned over my shoulder as I reached for the hoop, which is a mesh net lashed inside a kind of floating pyramid. “Enjoy it while you can—in a few hours it’s back to the real world.”

Holly accepted the bulky hoop and murmured, “Hard to believe that for them this
is
the real world.”

Dot laughed. “How easy would getting used to this be, huh?”

We both agreed, “Very!”

Anyway, we gathered the stuff and were leaving the “shed” when I noticed the faded purple water hoops ball. “Hey, the ball!” I said, grabbing it off the shelf.

“That’s it?” Holly asked. “I thought it’d be a basketball.”

“It’s weird-looking,” Dot said, taking it from me.

I remember thinking the same thing the first time I saw it. It’s only about eight inches across, and it’s rubbery and squooshy, with long tunnels of air running through it.

“Won’t this sink?” Dot asked.

“Oh yeah,” I laughed. “And the color makes it hard to see underwater.”

We went back to the pool area, and the first thing I noticed was that Marissa was no longer on the lounger.

And neither was Heather.

I chucked the hoop in the water near the middle of the pool, then started sorting the skullcaps into red and blue piles. “I can’t believe they have their own skullcaps!” Holly said. “But I’m glad.” She held one up—they were the tie-under-the-chin-with-
ear
-holes variety. “Can you imagine you know who putting on one of these?”

“No!” I grinned at her. “See? It’ll definitely be safe in the water.”

“Poor Marissa,” Dot whispered. “She told me all about the kiss.”

“The kiss? What kiss?” Holly asked.

So real quick I caught her up on our little spying fiasco, and then Dot added, “I wish she’d just forget about Danny. I don’t like him.”

Holly frowned. “Yeah. He’s too slick.”

We’d finished sorting the caps, so I scanned the backyard for Marissa.

“I don’t see her, either,” Dot said. “Maybe she’s getting changed?”

Just then one of the cabana doors opens, and out steps the lime green two-piece.

Really, that’s all I see at first—the suit.

For one thing, it’s really bright.

For another, it’s definitely the suit Marissa used my money to buy at the mall.

Ruffled top.

Wide-belted bottom.

Only as the suit moves away from the cabana, I’m having an awful time making sense of what I’m seeing. It’s like one person’s head has been put on another person’s body. But as hard as I blink, the image doesn’t change.

And finally it hits me that I
am
seeing what I can’t believe I’m seeing.

It’s Marissa’s bikini, all right.

But it’s wrapped around Heather Acosta’s body.