Silent Night 2 (7 page)

Francine, busy with three customers at once, had her back turned. Reva decided to take advantage of that fact. She ducked out of the counter and escaped, losing herself in the crowd.

She wandered along the aisles of the main floor, heading toward the back. Spotting her cousin Pam in the stationery department, she hurried over to say hello.

Pam wore a bright green sweater over brown slacks. Her blond hair was pulled straight back in a ponytail, held in place with a silky green ribbon. As usual, Reva noted, she wore no makeup, not even lipstick.

She's always so fresh looking, Reva thought with scorn. She could do Ivory soap commercials.

“Reva, I saw you come in this morning,” Pam said. “You were so early.”

“Yeah. I came in early with my dad,” Reva told her. “He left me a note last night that he wanted to talk, so—”

“You were out last night?” Pam asked.

Yeah. With
your
boyfriend, fresh face, Reva thought.

“Maybe,” Reva replied coyly. She gave Pam a teasing grin.

“New boyfriend?” Pam asked.

I love Pam's childlike innocence, Reva thought sarcastically. It's so
cute!

“Just a friend,” Reva replied, deliberately sounding mysterious.

“I'm going out with Victor tonight,” Pam revealed, her green eyes lighting up.

“That's nice,” Reva replied casually. “He seems like an okay guy.”

He kisses okay.
Real
okay, Reva thought.

“I can't stop thinking about him,” Pam gushed. She leaned close to Reva so she wouldn't be overheard by anyone else. “I think this may be the real thing,” Pam whispered. “I mean, I think I'm really in love!”

“That's great,” Reva replied without enthusiasm. “That's really great, Pam.”

Why can't Pam be smart for once and find a
rich
boyfriend? Reva thought. Victor doesn't have a dime, and neither does she.

“I'd like you to get to know Victor,” Pam continued, smiling eagerly at her cousin. “I think you'll really like him.”

I'm trying, Reva thought, struggling not to laugh in Pam's face. I'm trying, Pam.

“Have fun tonight,” Reva said. “I'm glad
someone
is having an exciting life.”

Pam placed a hand on Reva's shoulder and felt the soft silky fabric of her blouse. “It's holiday time, Reva. I'm sure your life will get more exciting real soon.”

• • •

“Why are we doing this?” Diane demanded, turning into North Hills. The evening sky was dark. She switched on the high beams.

“I told you,” Pres said edgily. “Sometimes Reva gets home from the store before her father. Sometimes she's all alone in the house in the evening. Maybe we can drop in and surprise her.”

Pres had been brooding all day about their failed
kidnapping attempt. He had paced back and forth in his small living room, muttering to himself, shaking his head, until Diane couldn't take it anymore. With an angry cry she had fled the apartment and gone for a long walk.

She returned a little after sunset to find Pres waiting for her, eager to drive back to Shadyside, back to the Dalbys' house.

“Reva will be alone. We can do it now. I know we can,” Pres urged with growing enthusiasm.

But as Diane turned the Plymouth into Reva's block and the big stone house came into view, she quickly saw that Reva was
not
alone.

“Cops!” she cried, and jammed her foot down hard on the brake.

She and Pres stared into the darkness. There were three black and white squad cars parked at the curb and one in the Dalbys' driveway. Two officers with bright halogen flashlights were pacing the front lawn, their lights sweeping the ground.

“I don't believe it!” Pres declared. “Don't stop! Keep going!”

Diane eased her foot off the brake. “I guess they're searching for clues.”

“Rich people,” Pres muttered bitterly, ignoring her. “Here it is night, and the cops are still here from this morning. You think they'd work this hard for some average family?”

“Let's just get away,” Diane said with a shudder.

She pressed down on the gas and started to ease the car past the Dalby house.

But a bright glare of white light in the windshield made her slam on the brakes. “Hey—!” she cried
out as two dark-uniformed police officers loomed over the car. Their lights beamed onto her startled face from the side windows.

“Pull it over,” one of them mouthed through the closed window, his eyes narrowed, his features set in a hard scowl.

“They—they've caught us,” Pres stammered.

“W
h-what should I do?” Diane uttered, her eyes wide with fear.

“Pull over,” Pres told her. “We can't get away. A neighbor must have seen the car this morning. We're caught. Caught!”

Diane obediently pulled the car to the curb and shoved the gearshift into Park. “In the movies we'd make a run for it,” she muttered.

“This isn't the movies,” Pres replied bitterly.

The police officer tapped hard on the window with his flashlight. Diane lowered the window. “Yes, officer?” she called out in a tiny voice.

The man bent over, peering in at the two occupants, his face expressionless, his eyes narrowed.
“You've got a headlight out,” he said finally. “The left one. See?” He pointed with his flashlight.

Diane wanted to laugh out loud. Somehow she remained silent. “I didn't know,” she said in her meek little voice. “It must have just happened.”

“I could give you a ticket,” the officer said, turning his gaze on Pres. “But I'm kind of busy here. Why don't you just go get it fixed?”

“Oh, thanks, officer,” Diane replied gratefully. “Thanks a lot.”

She started to roll up the window, but stopped when Pres called out, “What's going on here? Why all the black-and-whites?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” the man replied sharply. He turned and headed back up to the Dalbys' front lawn, taking long strides.

Diane made sure the window was closed before she burst out laughing. “Nothing that concerns you,” she repeated, grinning at Pres.

Pres didn't share her mirth. “Let's get out of here,” he snapped, his eyes on the police officers combing the front lawn. He slumped low in the seat, a scowl on his face.

Diane eased the car away from the curb, turned at the first corner, and headed back toward Pres's apartment in Waynesbridge. Pres remained silent for most of the ride, thinking hard, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the dark, winding road.

“There's no way we can get Reva at her house now,” he said finally. “Not with all those cops around.”

“You mean you're giving up?” Diane cried, disappointed.

“No way,” Pres murmured. “I have a new plan.”

“All right!” Diane's expression brightened. She pulled into a McDonald's. “You hungry?” She had to ask three times. Pres was lost in thought.

A few minutes later, tucked in a booth in the back of the restaurant, Pres leaned over the table and revealed his plan in a low voice. “We'll take Reva from the department store,” he said.

Diane wiped a smear of ketchup off her cheek with a napkin. “How?”

“She works at a perfume counter, see,” Pres told her, his eyes darting nervously around the brightly lit restaurant, making sure no one could hear. “I checked it out the other morning.”

“She didn't see you—did she?” Diane interrupted.

“No way. The store was crowded. I watched her from another aisle. Her perfume counter is right across from a side door that opens onto the street.”

Diane swallowed a mouthful of cheeseburger. “So we park on the street, run in, grab her, and pull her out?”

Pres shook his head. “No. We create some kind of distraction. We get Reva to step out from behind the counter. Then she's only a few feet from the door. If she's out in the aisle, it'll be easy to drag her outside without anyone seeing. Especially if we do it first thing in the morning. There aren't many customers when the store first opens. And Reva has the first shift before that other saleswoman arrives.”

Diane took a long sip of her Coke, her eyes on Pres, thinking hard.

“Why are you staring at me?” he demanded edgily. “It's a good plan. It'll work.”

She set down the paper cup. “Yeah. Probably,” she replied. “But we need Danny.”

Pres reacted with surprise. “Huh? My brother?”

Diane nodded. She crinkled the paper cheeseburger wrapper into a ball. “Yeah. We're going to need Danny.”

“What for?” Pres demanded. “I can pull Reva out the door. I don't need Danny for that.”

“We need him to drive,” she said. “If you're going to pull Reva out the door, I have to create the distraction. I have to get her to come out from behind the counter, right? So we need Danny to drive.”

Pres scowled. “I don't like it. You know Danny. You know how he loses his cool.”

“We need him,” Diane insisted.

“Danny and his headaches,” Pres muttered. “He's so hot-tempered, Diane. You know my older brother. When he gets excited, he's totally out of control. If something goes wrong, he could get us all killed!”

“Shhhhh.” Diane spread her hand over Pres's mouth. “Danny'll stay in the car. That's all. We need him to drive once we've got Reva. No problem.”

“Well . . .” Pres shook his head, still scowling.

“Come on, Pres,” Diane pleaded. “Call Danny as soon as we get home, okay?”

Pres climbed to his feet. “Let's go.” He headed for the door.

“Will you do it?” Diane hurried to catch up.

“Yeah. I guess,” he replied, pushing open the door to the parking lot. “When do you want to grab Reva?”

“It's almost Christmas. There's lots of things I want to buy with that ransom money,” Diane said, taking his arm. “Let's do it tomorrow morning.”

R
eva pulled the corn muffin and coffee container from the brown paper bag and set them on the counter. She tore off a chunk of the muffin and took a dainty bite, brushing crumbs off the glass with her long fingernails.

“Reva—what are you doing?” Francine stepped up beside her, an angry expression on her face.

“Eating a muffin,” Reva replied coolly. She held up a crumbly chunk. “Want a bite?”

“But you're twenty-five minutes late!” Francine cried shrilly, pointing to the clock above the doorway. “You know you were supposed to be at the counter first thing this morning. It's a good thing I came in early today. I had to cover for you.”

Reva concentrated on pulling the lid off the
coffee container. “I know. I couldn't decide which sweater to wear.” She turned to Francine to better show off her pale blue sweater. “Do you like this one? It's cashmere.”

“I just wiped off the counter,” Francine complained. “You're getting crumbs all over it.”

“It's a very crumbly muffin,” Reva replied with a full mouth. “It's pretty good though. Sure you don't want a little? Oh. I forgot. You're on a diet.”

Reva chuckled to herself, watching crumbs fall onto the glass counter. She took a sip of coffee, the hot liquid burning her tongue, then set down the container in a round brown puddle. “I think this cup is leaking. What a mess.”

Francine let out an angry cry. “I'm going to make a phone call,” she said through clenched teeth. “You'd better get this cleaned up before Ms. Smith sees it.”

“Yeah. Sure thing,” Reva replied under her breath. She watched Francine storm off toward the employees' lounge. “What's
her
problem anyway?”

Reva raised the last piece of corn muffin to her mouth. Then she studied herself in the mirror, adjusting the floppy navy blue hat she had pulled over her hair.