The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes (28 page)

* * *

After the dance, Heaven and Tommy stood out front as students and
teachers lined up to congratulate them. Harmon and Hawk disappeared behind the
gymnasium to bring the car around.

Students drifted by, slapping Tommy on the back or admiring
Heaven’s dress. He beamed proudly as he held her hand tightly. His geekness
seemed to be quickly dissipating. He couldn’t wait for school Monday, to revel
in the limelight once more.

He gazed at his beautiful date. The Prom Queen tiara in her
hair twinkled and glowed in the city lights, casting prisms of color onto her
satin gown. He looked forward to walking into school with pride, his head up
and his chest out. He was a new man in the course of a few hours.

He reached up and felt the crown on his head, still
unbelieving he’d been named King. He would be afraid to go to bed later, for
fear he’d wake up and find the evening was merely a fairytale. He’d sleep in
the crown, that way when he woke he would know it was real. No one had ever
paid the least bit of attention to him in school, except to tease him. Now
overnight, he was almost a semi-celebrity.

The crowd around them finally dissipated, leaving them alone
on the sidewalk.

“Miss Prom Queen, thank you for the best night of my life.”

“Thank you, Mr. Prom King. I can’t wait to see you again.”

He watched as she reached up and gently touched the
sparkling tiara. Her eyes glowed as she smiled at him. A beam of headlights
crossed her face, lighting up the crown as it sparkled iridescent beams across
her dress.

“Here’s our car. May I?” He took her hand, swept into a deep
bow and guided her to the curb.

“My pleasure.”

The dark car pulled alongside them, and Tommy guided his
lovely date to the door. A man stepped out, but something was wrong with his
face. It had something dark over it, perhaps a mask or paint.

Before he realized it wasn’t Hawk or Harmon, the man grabbed
Heaven from his arms, and threw her into the car. He leapt in behind her in
only seconds, and careened away into the darkness.

Tommy picked up Heaven’s spinning tiara, gazed at the
taillights as they faded into the night and screamed.

Tommy raced after the dark car, still clutching Heaven’s crown. He
powered down the center of the street and screamed. Jagged tears blew across
his cheeks, only to dissolve in the onslaught of wind.

Cars veered to miss him, the sound of screeching brakes
filled the night air. Other vehicles were forced into a skid, crossing into
opposite lanes in an attempt to avoid a deadly collision with the boy.

The smell of smoking rubber forced its way into his lungs,
threatening to choke him. A car was coming directly at him. It skidded away,
but the out of control vehicle spun around with a screech. It slid into him and
knocked him to the pavement.

He grasped the fender, pulled himself up and burst after the
dark car again. He charged down the street, block after block as motorists
shouted at him. Ignoring their obscenities he raced on, gasping for breath as
he churned down the black asphalt.

Finally, he could run no more. He stood in the center of the
street, struggling to pull air into his tortured lungs, as burning tears fell.

“Tommy!” Bice caught up to the boy and pulled the hysterical
teenager to the safety of the curb. Tommy struggled against him violently, and
tried again to give chase.

“Tommy, what happened?” Bice gazed in horror at the boy,
attempting to hold hi steady. “Tommy, calm down. Talk to me, tell me what
happened.”

“A man…” Tommy moaned. “A man with something over his face…”

“Tell me now!”

“We thought it was our car…”

“Tell me!”

“He pulled her from the curb…away from me…he threw her into
the car…Oh God…we thought it was Harmon and Hawk.”

Screeching tires drowned out the boys cries. Bice leapt up,
and pulled Tommy out of the way once again. A dark car was rushing toward them
at such a deadly speed, it would certainly fly over the curb and run them down.
At the last moment, it slid to a stop only inches from the stricken pair. Hawk
and Harmon burst from the vehicle, and raced toward them.

“Where is she?” Harmon cried. “Where is Heaven?”

“Someone took her.” Bice still clutched the hysterical
teenager. “Call the police!”

* * *

Heaven opened her eyes, and gazed at the unfamiliar surroundings.

She was in a small room, void of any furniture except the
bed which she lay upon. She quickly leapt from it, and staggered across the
room.

She walked around the small area, immediately noticing a
smell of dampness. The air was musty and old, as if the room hadn’t been opened
in years. A small beam of light from a corner caught her eye. Many pieces of
wood had been nailed across the only window.

She gazed at the ceiling. Large beams crisscrossed above,
apparently holding up a house.

She carefully lifted her gown and walked with determination
toward the door. She tried the knob, but it held fast.

Anger grew from deep within her, threatening to spin out of
control as it had never done before. She’d never lost her temper in as many
years as she could remember. But, this was ridiculous. How dare anyone destroy
what might have been the most memorable night of her life.

What fool could possibly think he could keep Heaven, newly
crowned Prom Queen, hostage? She suddenly remembered, as she reached for the
top of her head.

It was gone. Her tiara was gone.

She bristled in anger as she gazed at the locked door. No
one, absolutely no one, would take her tiara and live to see the morning light.

Not only was her crown missing, but she knew she was about
to ruin her new dress. She’d have no choice if she wanted to escape. She was
certain there were no accommodations within the hellish prison which would
enable her to dash into a closet for a quick change of clothes.

She’d tried learn patience in the short time she lived at
Harmon’s estate. She felt she’d done a pretty good job. Well, most of the time.
But there were circumstances which she felt she should be allowed to loose her
temper. This was certainly one.

She backed slowly away from the door. She stared at it
several moments, sizing it up carefully. Finally, she ran at it with intense
anger and leapt at it with every ounce of strength she could manage.

Her legs plunged through the door, shattering the wood into
a million splinters. She hit the floor and recoiled in horror as she glanced at
her legs. Fighting stinging tears, she studied the damage she’d inflicted upon
herself in her moment of rage. She’d torn her lovely dress and broken her heel.

In a blind fury, she reached through the hole in the wood
and quickly unlocked the door.

A dimly lit staircase lay before her, dabbles of yellow
lights flickered from above. A long corridor beyond the landing seemed to lead
to the main house. She could only hope whomever had the bad sense to treat her
this way was fully prepared to face her wrath.

She kicked off her broken shoes and stormed up the stairs.
She would find the person who had dared wreck her Prom, and caused her to ruin
her new one-of-a kind designer gown.

* * *

Harmon, Bice and Hawk arrived home in silence. They’d followed
Tommy home, and made sure the boy would be all right. But he was far from it.
The teenager was devastated.

Bice closed the door to his suite. He laid on his bed in a
stupor for what seemed like hours. He closed his eyes and thought of Heaven. He
never realized when he started caring about her. But somewhere along the line,
he had. She’d stolen his heart as she’d stolen Harmon’s.

Harmon wasn’t faring well in Heaven’s absence. He could hear
the singer in his suite across the hall, intermittently wailing and throwing
things. A cry floated across the hall, followed by a loud crash as the musician
tossed another piece of furniture out the window. Bice glanced at his watch. At
this rate, Harmon’s suite should be near empty by now.

He’d tried to console the musician, but was greeted instead
by a wild-eyed lunatic who held a rather large stereo speaker raised above his
head, its tangle of wires dangling to the floor. He made a beeline right back
out, the moment before the speaker crashed into the back of the door.

Heaven’s temper paled in comparison to Harmon’s outburst.
Her air of innocence in the stale household was refreshing. The mansion had
never heard the ring of teenage laughter until now. She’d gallantly learned as
much as she could about the things she’d missed out on, in the short time she
occupied the estate.

She’d made unbelieving fools of them all by bringing their
fates to a screeching halt. By all intents and purposes, he knew he’d have been
dead at this very moment. Especially if Harmon had hit him with the speaker.

He thought of his brother. God, how he missed the boy.
Stinging tears fell from his eyes to the pillow below. The vision of Heaven’s
aquamarine eyes burned in his mind. She was crying out, begging him to come
help her. As his brother had that fateful day.

He stared at the phone. He’d ring Bonita to bring up a case
of beer and drown in his sorrows. His life’s mistake. The blasted nagging beer
which would succumb to nothing.

The worthless can of hell. How he wished he’d never set eyes
on the golden liquid of death when he was a teenager.

He found himself in front of the bedroom window, never
realizing he’d slipped out of bed. If he must, he’d stand there all night,
until traces of morning light could be seen in the horizon.

* * *

Heaven quietly ascended the staircase.

Following the only light down the long hallway, she peered
around the corner into the kitchen. A man wearing a white smock was sitting at
the kitchen table, his back to her. A steaming cup of coffee sat nearby. He
appeared to be writing a note. On the far counter, a stack of money sat neatly.

She silently walked up behind him and stared fire into the
back of his head. She watched his shoulders rise and fall quietly, oblivious as
to what lie in wait behind. He sipped his coffee, and gazed out the window.

She would wait no more. Patience was not a virtue of hers,
she was not about to learn it now. She tapped the big man on the shoulder.

He froze in place and eased the paper down as if it were
made of crawling insects. He stood up, hesitated momentarily and slowly turned
around.

Heaven stared at the man, her eyes ablaze. “Where the hell
is my Prom Queen tiara?”

“ How did you get out?” He stood tall and rigid, but a
single bead of sweat materialized on his forehead as he stared incredulously at
her.

“It’s you!” She slowly backed away from him. “The doctor
from the hospital, Dr. Killpeople.”

“
Dr. Killmore.” He waggled his finger at her, and
puffed up in a menacing way.

She wasn’t fooled. She wriggled her hand under his nose. The
moment he stared at it, with the swiftness of a snake she slapped him. He
lurched back in surprise, and rubbed his stinging cheek. Obviously angered, he
slowly moved toward her.

“Come to me. Let’s get you back where you belong.”

“Look what you’ve done to my dress, you moron!” She stuck
her leg toward him, and pointed at the large rip down the side. The moment his
gaze fell upon it, she kicked him in the groin.

He cried out in anguish, the color slowly draining from his
face. He staggered backward, clutched himself and grasped the table until his
knuckles whitened. He struggled several moments to regain his composure.

“You won’t need a pretty dress like that, now come to me.”

He moved toward her again. Slowly, he backed her into the
corner of the kitchen. He reached out for her, his hand moving straight toward
her neck.

She had no where to go. His towering figure seemed
impenetrable. She gazed around hopelessly, her back pressed to the wall. She
was trapped. She had no choice. In a blind fury, she leapt at him.

* * *

“Dad, I’m home!” Tommy cried from the doorway. “Something awful
happened!”

He’d cried until his head throbbed. Heaven’s tiara was still
clutched in his palm, Harmon had been unable to wrench it from him.

“Dad? Where are you?”

A deafening crash reverberated from the kitchen. He froze in
place, fearing a prowler was in their home. Shaking, he slipped quietly toward
the hall closet. Easing the door open in silence, he grabbed his baseball bat
and raced down the hallway toward the source of the noise. He burst through the
door with the weapon raised high in the air.

“Dad?” He skidded into the kitchen, the bat swinging wildly
over his head. The wooden weapon quickly crashed to the floor, as he set eyes
on the scene before him.

Heaven was on top of his father, who’d obviously been
knocked to the floor. Perhaps she’d be Heaven Killmore one day. Fancy that, his
future wife beating the hell out of his own dad. It would surely be a doomed
union.

She’d come downstairs for breakfast after the wedding. His
dad would stare at her and sneer, and she’d slap him. His coffee cup would be
thrown from his hand and shatter on the cold tile. He wondered if there was
such a thing as father-in-law abuse. His dad would surely be the first case in
the whole state, perhaps the whole country.

He shook his head free of the impossible thought, and tried
to focus on the soap opera before him. Heaven sat atop his father, a man who
was the pinnacle of society and the poster-boy for health and fitness.

Her legs held his arms pinned against his sides. She raised
her arm into the air and swung her hand across his face. The physician could
only flail his legs helplessly, and cry out as she dealt him one blow after
another.

“Where is it?” She demanded. “Where is my Prom Queen tiara?”