Twisted (12 page)

As long as he delivered the package.

GAIA NEVER KNEW A PIECE OF
furniture could scream.

It was there in every class she had shared with Cassie Greenman. A desk. An empty desk.

It was just a plain desk, scratched up and written on by so many students, it was hard to even make out where one set of initials stopped and the next one started. A couple of pieces of plastic, some plywood, and twisted-up metal. But every time Gaia looked at
it, she heard this
weird kind of wailing
down deep in her brain.

She wondered if she was going crazy—even more crazy than usual. But Gaia didn't think she was the only one who heard the screaming.

All day,
other people kept glancing over at the desk.
The Empty Desk. And every time they looked that way, they'd get this expression on their faces.
Instantly zoned.
Even the teachers seemed to be looking at it as if they expected the desk to answer a question or make a comment on the class.

It was profoundly weird.

Gaia knew they cut a couple of hours off the day, but by the time the last bell rang, she would have sworn that she had been in school for at least three weeks.

If anybody had asked her what had been covered in her classes that day, Gaia couldn't have repeated a word. Not that she was ever
Ms. Perfect Attention.
But ever since the morning announcement the only sound track in Gaia's head was the screaming desk and a running loop of her conversation with Cassie.

As far as Gaia knew, it was the first time she had ever talked to Cassie. And the last.

The thing that really bugged Gaia, the thing she just could not get around, was this:

What in hell was Cassie Greenman doing in Washington Square Park at night? It didn't make any
sense. Cassie had seemed genuinely scared of the killer. She had even talked about dyeing her hair to take her off the victim list. Cassie Greenman might not have been a rocket scientist,
but anyone smart enough not to play on subway tracks
would have known better than to go into the park.

Except Gaia, of course, but that was different.

Gaia took a last took at the screaming desk as she staggered out of class. It had eyeball magnetism, that desk. It was like a tooth missing right in the middle of someone's smile. You couldn't stop looking at it. Gaia wondered how long it would be before someone else sat there and
filled in the gap.
She was willing to bet that desk was going to be empty for a long time.

Gaia made it down the hall, pounded her locker into submission, and shoved her stuff inside.

Why hadn't she seen Cassie in the park? It wasn't exactly teeming with people.
How could Gaia have missed her?

Thoughts of Cassie grew so thick, it was like walking around in a literal fog. Gaia trudged slowly along the hallway, lost to the world. Then she started around the corner by the school office and ran smack into what felt like a concrete wall.

She gave a mumbled “sorry” and started to move on.

“It's all right. At least this time you didn't knock me down.”

Gaia looked up at the voice. “Huh?”

“Hi,” said David. “Remember me? David Twain,
boy obstacle.”

Gaia blinked away the tangle of twisted thoughts. David hadn't felt like a wall yesterday. Last night must have taken more out of her than she thought. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

David grinned. “It's school. They make you go.”

“I mean . . .” Except Gaia didn't know what she meant. Her brain was still deep in
the Cassie zone
, and she was having a hard time getting it back in the real-world dimension.

“I'm going to have to start wearing football pads,” David said, rubbing at the back of his neck. Gaia watched his forearm where he'd rolled up his sleeve.
He was better looking today.
Somehow the thought pissed her off.

“Sorry” Gaia said again, stepping around him. “I'm not all here at the moment.”

“Yeah, I've seen the studies,” David said, shoving his hands in his pockets. His binder was tucked under his arm with one book. There was no backpack. Gaia brought her hand to her forehead, confused by her
inadvertent observations.
Since when was she interested in this kind of thing?

“What studies?” she asked, focusing in on the little space of skin between his dark eyebrows.

“About you,” David replied. “Four out of five
doctors warn that you're a major source of bruises.”

Gaia shook away the last of the Cassie fog and tried to concentrate on what David was saying. Some part of her brain told her that she had just missed a joke, but she was
in no mood
to go back and figure it out.

“Whatever.” Another brilliant response from Ms. Gaia Moore, ladies and gentlemen.

David smiled. Dimples.
Annoying.

“Well,
whatever
you are or aren't, I
was
looking for you,” he said. “In fact, looking for you was my number-one objective for the afternoon.”

“Why?” The fog was rolling back in.

“The date, remember?”

Gaia blinked. Date. For a moment the words belonged to a foreign language. Something they might say in the jungles of Borneo or maybe on the far side of the moon. Then she remembered. Coffee. Baklava. Her first ever
genuine date.
It was amazing what a little thing like murder could make you forget.

“Look, David,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn't. You know, because of . . . Cassie and all.”

His face was quickly overtaken by an expression of concern. “I'm sorry. Were you two close?”

“No. It's not that. It's . . .” Gaia wondered how David would react if she explained to him that she was
the ugly sister
of Xena, Warrior Princess, and
Cassie was one of the
helpless peasants
Gaia was supposed to protect from the rampaging hordes. “It bothers me.”

David nodded. “It bothers me, too.” He gave a quick look around the hallway. “I just moved here last week. Everybody keeps saying that New York is this really safe place, that there's not nearly as much crime as people say. They act like it's all in the movies. But I get here and there's this big murder thing going on.”

Gaia shrugged. “They're only killing blond girls. You shouldn't have to worry.”

That
Off-center smile
crept back onto his face. “Yeah, but I kind of like blond girls,” he said in a low voice. “I want to keep them around.”

It wasn't the smoothest response in the world. On the Skippy scale, Gaia marked it
closer to regular than extra creamy
. But he was trying.

“Okay,” she said. “Maybe we could go somewhere. Just for a little while.”

“Anywhere you want,” he replied. “If you don't feel like dessert, maybe we could just go over to Googie's and grab a burger.”

Googie's. Yet another spot on Gaia's Guide to the Village. It was a place so tacky, it was . . .
really tacky.
“For a guy who's only been here a couple of days, you sure have homed in on prime sources of empty calories.”

David patted his disgustingly flat stomach. “I have
a list of priorities whenever I move.” He raised his hand and started ticking off the points. “First, locate an immediate source of sugar. Two, find a good greasy burger. Three, pin down a decent pizza.” He lowered his hand. “Once all that's done, you're ready to move on to number four.”

Gaia raised an eyebrow. “What's number four?”

The dimples retreated, and David looked at her for the first time with a completely serious expression.
“Find the right girl to share it with.”

Gaia had to give him credit. He was Not Sam, but he was good. She did a quick top-to-bottom survey. Chinos: pressed, but not too neat. Khaki shirt over black T-shirt: again, looking a little less than perfect. Just an average guy.
And average was okay with her.

Gaia did a little mental arithmetic. If what she had heard was right, then both victims had died in the park in the middle part of the evening, somewhere before midnight If Gaia was in place by nine-thirty, ten at the latest, she should be ready to tackle the killer if he came back for thirds—not that she would be the only person looking for him there tonight. She'd still have time for a quick dinner, a change of clothes, and working her way past Ella.

Not that the last part was hard. Ella had been off doing
Ella things
every night for a week.

“You're sure you want to go out with me?” Gaia
asked. She knew it was tempting fate, but she felt like she had to give him
a final chance to back out.

David nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Then here's the deal. Meet me at Third and Thompson at six, and we'll eat.”

“What's at Third and Thompson?”

“Jimmy's Burrito.” Gaia gave him her best excuse for a smile. “Even greasier than Googie's.”

SAM LEANED AGAINST THE COOL STONE
of the Washington Square Park arch. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching, small yellow radio from his pocket and squeezed the trigger on its side. Even alone, he still felt like an idiot.

“Do you see her?” he asked. He let go of the trigger, then quickly pressed it again.
“Over.”

There was a moment of silence before Ed's voice came back. “Yes, I see her. I'm in a wheelchair. I'm not blind. Over.”

“Which way is she going? Is she heading toward the park?”

Static.

“Ed? Is she going toward the park?”

Static.

“Ed?”

“You're supposed to say 'over' when you're done.”

“Over, for God's sake. Is she going toward the park? Over,” Sam snapped.

Static.

“Ed? I said over.”

“I heard you. I was just moving to keep up with Gaia. Have you ever tried to roll and use a walkie-talkie at the same time?” he hissed. “Next time you decide to steal radios, I suggest you get one with a headset.
Over.”

Sam pushed the trigger again. “I didn't steal these. I paid for them.”

It was at least temporarily true. They were good radios, guaranteed to have at least a two-mile range and fourteen channels, and they had fancy built-in scrambling so no one else could listen in on the conversation. Very nice radios. Also very expensive.

There was no way Sam could afford to keep them. So he had paid for them at an electronics store with a thirty-day return policy. As soon as
Operation Protect Gaia
was over, the radios were going back. At the moment they were paid for.

“Which way is Gaia going?” Sam asked again. “Over,” he added quickly.

“It looks like she's going home,” Ed's voice replied. “Probably to get ready for her date. Over.”

Sam stared at the radio in his hand. He had to have heard that wrong. “Say again.”

Static.

“Ed?”

“You didn't say ‘over.' Over.”

Sam squeezed the radio, envisioning Ed's neck between his fingers. “Can you forget the stupid 'over' and just repeat whatever it was you said?”

“I said, she's going home.” There was a hint of laughter in Ed's radio voice.

Sam gripped the radio.
“Not that part.”

“Then what . . .” Static. “Oh, you mean the date.”

“What date are you talking about?” It took all his effort to release the talk button so he could listen for a response he was sure he didn't really want to hear.

“Don't you know about the date?”
More glee.
Obvious this time.

Sam was glad there was at least a mile of space between them. If Ed had been close enough to reach, the Gentleman wouldn't be the only one in the park committing murder.

“Obviously I don't know about the date,” Sam said slowly. “If I knew about the date, would I be asking about the date?”

“Gaia has a date tonight,” Ed's voice replied. His
voice had changed. There was resignation in it now. “She warned me about it yesterday.”

No one had warned Sam. Of course, Gaia and Sam weren't on the best of terms. They had basically no reason to speak at all. But Sam still felt blindsided by the enormity of Ed's announcement.

Gaia had a date.
She's not yours,
he reminded himself.
She was never yours.
Somehow he still felt
betrayed.

“Who is she going out with?” Sam asked.

“A new guy,” Ed replied flatly. “David something.” Sam was about to ask another question, but before he could, Ed's voice came again. “I need to move again if I'm going to keep her in sight.”

Sam pushed himself away from the cold marble of the arch. “All right. Call me if she comes back out. We'll work out positions.”

“Roger,” said Ed. “Over and out. Ten-four. Copy tha—”

Sam switched off the radio. He flicked a switch that would make it ring like a telephone if Ed called, then dropped it into his jacket pocket.

Sam went through a mental list of questions about the date, but he couldn't think of how to ask them without sounding jealous.
Was he jealous?
He thought about it for a moment and decided the answer was yes. He might not be able to define his own feelings about Gaia, but he was sure about one
thing—he didn't want her going out with anyone else.

With Gaia gone back to her brownstone to prepare for the unthinkable date, Sam wasn't sure what to do. He could hang around the park for the afternoon, maybe get in a game. But losing a game of chess didn't seem very appealing without at least the chance of seeing Gaia.