Sammy Keyes and the Psycho Kitty Queen (22 page)

The Santa Martina Town Center Mall has parking nearly clear around it. Some of it's regular parking-lot parking, and some of it's parking-structure parking. And to buffer the ugliness of all those cars and cement, there's a wide area around the whole mall that's landscaped with a windy walkway, little grassy hills, pine trees, and bushes. They've even put park benches along the walkway for people who get tired of circling the mall, trying to figure out how to get inside.

If you ask me, the best thing about the mall
is
the winding walkway. Give me a skateboard and a roller-coaster walkway over trendy clothes and household gadgets any day of the week.

Anyway, it was while Holly and I were carrying our skateboards across the little grassy hills to the winding walkway that I noticed we were being followed. “Psssst,” I said to Holly. “Don't look now, but the Horseshoe Hustler and her posse are on our trail.”

She started to look back but stopped. “Heather?”

“Yup. With Tenille and Monet.”

“Where?”

“On the other side of Broadway.”

“Are you sure they're following us? Maybe they're just going to the mall.”

I bent down and retied my shoe, peeking under my armpit. The traffic light had changed, and Heather and her friends were moving fast across the street.

“Their eyes are glued on us,” I said. “They're definitely up to something.”

“So what do you want to do?”

The school buses roared by, blocking them from view, but I didn't want to make a break for it—I wanted to know what they were up to. So I stood up and said, “How about we ride slow for a little while and see if they follow us.”

Holly shrugged. “I'm game.”

So when we got to the windy walkway, we got on our skateboards and coasted along. And sure enough Heather and the others ran after us, Tenille carrying her shoes and Monet lagging behind, holding her side.

“We've gotta slow down,” I said to Holly, “or we'll lose them.”

“Don't we
want
to lose them?”

“Not yet.”

So we rode along until we got to a place where the walkway takes a sharp right into a little amphitheater area and then goes up and around to Main Street. And the minute I knew we were out of view, I said, “Now!” and pushed hard through the amphitheater. Then right past a park bench on the other side I said, “In here!” and dove for some big bushes. Holly plowed in right beside me, then we both caught our breath and waited.

It seemed to take forever for Heather to come around
the corner, and when she did, she got all snappy with the others. “See? They're gone! Why do you have to be so slow?”

“How are we supposed to keep up with them?” Monet panted. “They have skateboards!”

“And my feet are
killing
me,” Tenille cried.

“Besides,” Monet said, gasping for air, “you'll never get it with
Holly
there.”

“Yeah,” Tenille said. “She's tough.”

“Oh shut up, both of you.” Heather took off running and said over her shoulder, “Stay here—I'm gonna see where those losers went.”

She came back a couple of minutes later, looking really disgusted. “They're gone,” she said, and plopped down on the bench right in front of us.

Tenille shook her head. “Why do you want it so bad, anyway? It's ugly!” Then she added, “If you ask me, your brother's weird.”

Heather snorted. “Like this is news to me?”

“So?” Monet laughed. “Sammy and him make a perfect couple.”

“He's not
that
weird! And they're not a couple! And they're not going to
be
a couple!”

“Is that why you want the horseshoe so bad?” Tenille asked. “So they're not a couple?”

“They're
nota
couple!”

“But,” Monet said, “if you get it away from her, won't he just give her another one?”

Heather crossed her arms. “Look. If you don't get it, just shut up.”

So Monet and Tenille sort of shuffled around the bench until Monet finally asked, “You don't really think it's
magic
, do you?”

“Or giving her luck?” Tenille asked.

“How many times do I have to tell you? She aced a test, she got out of homework, she found five bucks, and who knows what else?
I
got caught copying homework, flunked my English test, dropped my lunch tray, and banged my head!” Then she scowled and said, “Why'd he give it to
her
and not
me
? It's totally not fair.”

“But…”

“So…”

Monet and Tenille looked at each other like they were out to sea on a very patchy life raft.

“Whatever,” Heather said, standing up. “Let's get out of here.”

When the coast was clear, Holly and I crawled out of the bushes. And as Holly was dusting off, she said, “That girl's got issues.”

“No kidding.”

We headed out toward Speedy Photo, slowly clicking along the walkway, side by side. “So what are you going to do?” Holly asked.

I shook my head. “I don't think it's the horseshoe
or
the luck. I think it's that Casey gave it to me.”

“I agree.”

“Why does everyone have to make such a big deal out of it?”

Holly shrugged. “I thought Marissa and Dot were really cool about it today. And I know
I
didn't say anything.”

“Yeah, you're right. But still. Heather's sure blown the whole thing way out of proportion.”

We rode along without saying anything for a while, and then she asked, “So you're going to keep wearing it?”

I glanced over at her. “Yeah, I'm going to keep wearing it!”

Taking it off had never even crossed my mind.

Speedy Photo uses a building that used to be a drive-through bank. And the way you get your pictures is, you go through the drive-through. And since there was no line, we just cruised around the building on our skateboards, went under the awning, up the corridor, and stopped at the window.

“Hello,” Holly said to the lady inside. “I'm here to pick up pictures for Vera Talbrook.” She pushed the claim slip under the window, and a minute later we were ripping the package open. “Yes!” Holly cried when she saw the picture of El Gato. “It's perfect!”

It was, too. The focus was sharp—she'd caught him with his hand on the door, and even wearing a mask, El Gato looked mighty shifty.

“Come on!” I said. “Let's show Dave!”

We made it back to Broadway in record time and went straight to Slammin' Dave's. We didn't bother to peek through the drapes or sneak around back, either. We just pulled open the door and went inside.

The Blitz and Ronnie Reaper and a handful of other students were listening to Slammin' Dave give them very intense instructions. It wasn't the kind of moment you
should interrupt with your Kodak snapshots, so we stood off to the side for a few minutes and watched.

I loved the move he was showing them. He had a volunteer behind him who he drilled in the gut with his elbow, then when the guy doubled over, he whacked him in the face with the back of his fist. “You've got to move with it,” he told the group, “or you're gonna be soakin' the mat with blood.” He demonstrated again, saying, “Jab, whack! Jab, whack! See how he's moving with it?” The group nodded, so he said, “Okay! Partner up, give it a try, then switch. I want to see some motion! I want to see your pain!”

As soon as the wrestlers started practicing, Holly and I moved closer. “Ahem,” I said. “Dave?”

He saw me and smiled. “Triple-T! How's the moves?”

I tried not to blush and got straight to the point. “Uh, we've got something we want to talk to you about.”

Holly held the pack of pictures up. “And show you.”

He spread his arms. “Talk and show away!”

“Uh…” I looked around. I didn't see El Gato anywhere, but I sure didn't want him pouncing on us from behind. “Can we go outside?”

He raised an eyebrow, then said, “How about we go into my office?”

“That would work.”

So we followed him into the same room I'd snooped around after taking the bump, and when he closed the door, he said, “So? What's so hush-hush?”

“You know El Gato?” Holly asked.

He sat down in a roll-around chair. “Sure …”

Holly opened the package of pictures. “Well, he gives me the creeps.”

Dave did a combination nod and shrug like, Yeah, so?

“And the other night we saw him trying to break into Tornado Tony's van.”

That made Dave sit up a whole lot straighter. “What's that?”

“El Gato was outside pretending to have a smoke, but he was really casing Tony's van. He tried the doors, looked in the windows…”

“You both saw this?”

We nodded.

“Are you
sure
that's what he was doing?”

We nodded again, and Holly handed over the picture.

“Well,” he said after studying it a minute. “No flies on you!” He looked up at Holly. “Can I have this?”

She nodded. “Can you get rid of the guy?”

He bit the inside of his cheek but didn't say anything.

So I asked, “Do you know who he is?”

He gave half a shrug. “I thought he was a determined, devoted student.”

“But I mean when he signed up—he had to give you his real name, right? You made him sign waivers and agreements and all that kind of stuff, right?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “I've been known not to argue with cash.”

“So what you're saying is … “

He stood up. “What I'm saying is”—he wagged the picture at us—”I'll take care of things. And thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

He was sort of hustling us out of the office, but I wasn't feeling too good about leaving just yet. “Well, don't you want to know who we think he is?”

“And what we think he's been up to?” Holly added.

“Uh, sure.” He opened the door and ushered us out. “But make it quick—I've got to get back to my class.”

So real fast I start to say, “We think he's this guy who comes here who looks like a—” Only just then I glance to my right and who do I see?

The Bulldog.

And my mouth totally drops open, because standing right beside him is the cat-eyed creep himself.

El Gato.

El Gato and the Bulldog were laughing.

Holly and I were staring.

“Girls?” Dave asked, but then he noticed El Gato, too. “Uh, maybe you should make yourselves scarce.”

“Don't tell him we gave you the picture, okay?” Holly whispered.

“No problem.”

So he created sort of a body block for us as we made a break for the front door. And once we were safely outside, Holly and I looked at each other all wide-eyed and said, “It's not him!”

“So who
is
he?” I whispered.

“Oh man, this is giving me the creeps.”

My head was swimming, trying to sort through all the fragments that didn't seem to combine to any sort of whole. I'd felt better when I'd thought that El Gato
was
the Bulldog. It was like there were two shady characters spandexed into one. But now El Gato was just… El Gato. Some guy who'd given us the evil cat eye, had sort of threatened us, and had tried to get into Tony's van.

Maybe they weren't connected at all.

Maybe I was just imagining crimes where none existed.
But then why had someone called me?

Why had they “warned” me?

If they weren't trying to hide something, why did they care?

And what had I done that had made them so nervous?

“Sammy?” Holly asked. “What do you want to do?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and said, “I don't know. I was sure they were the same guy.”

“Me too. And now I'm worried that El Gato's going to find out that I gave Dave the picture and do something, you know, to
us.”

“Like steal stuff from you?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. But whoever he is, I wouldn't recognize him without his mask. He could walk right into the Pup Parlor and… who knows what?”

“I don't know what to tell you.” I thought a minute, then said, “Let's check back with Dave tomorrow—see what happens.”

“I'm at the Humane Society after school tomorrow.”

“Well, call me when you get home.”

“Okay.”

So she headed into the Pup Parlor while I got ready to jaywalk Broadway.