12

"Is she going to be okay?" Emily asked.

"She'll be fine," Victor replied.

Together they'd managed to haul Mom into the living room and lay her on the sofa. Emily had picked up a copy of Better Homes and Gardens and was fanning her with it. Victor had poured her a glass of water, and he set it on the coffee table for when she regained consciousness.

"Dad should be home soon. He works late," he added. The wall clock in the living room said it was nearly nine. Like every other social occasion involving teenagers in Officer Galswell's jurisdiction, prom only lasted until ten.

"Well, we should probably get going," Victor said, noting the time. Emily nodded and gave Mom one last fan. On the way out Victor glanced back over his shoulder at his mother there on the couch, still out for the count. When she started to snore gently, Victor was even more reassured that she'd be okay.

Emily stopped at the mirror in the front hall to check her makeup and hair. She frowned at herself critically, and poked at the bit of skin that was peeling from her cheek. Then she fluffed her hair until she achieved an effect that pleased her.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning from the mirror. Victor took her in. They'd turned off most of the lights on their way out, and the warm half-light was flattering to her. She'd picked most of the mold off her gown before they'd left the crypt, so the form-fitting silk looked worn but elegant. Plus, she was smiling. She had a beautiful smile. It lit up her entire face.

"You look great," he replied honestly. "Really."

Smiling, he held out a hand, which she took with a giggle. Out the door they went and over to the garage. The garage, set around the back of the house, was nearly as big as the mansion itself. It had four bays, an apartment overhead, and was Mayhew's favorite place in the world. Victor used to visit him in the garage often when he was younger.

When they walked in, Mayhew was simonizing the Skylark and humming to himself in the third bay. The lighting seemed harsh after the darkness outside. Victor blinked.

"Hi, Mayhew!" he called, his voice echoing through the cavernous garage. Mayhew turned. When he saw Victor he grinned hugely.

"Victor! You're back!" he said. He didn't even bother to put down his wax and rag before he came over to thump Victor paternally on the back. "We've been wondering all day where you slipped off to. Everything okay?"

"It's a really long story," said Victor. "I'll tell you all about it later. But right now, I need a favor. If that's okay."

"Sure, anything you need," replied Mayhew. Victor gestured toward Emily, who'd been standing quietly off to the side during the little reunion.

"This is Emily," Victor said, and Emily gave a little wave. "I'm taking her to prom. Could you give us a ride?"

Mayhew looked at Emily, and then dropped his Simoniz. The can hit the driveway and rolled off into the shadows. For a second he gawped, his mouth working but no sound coming out.

"Lovely to meet you!" said Emily cheerily.

"Er...uh...likewise," Mayhew managed. The poor guy was a shade paler than milk. He lifted his cap and scratched his head. "Hey, uh, Victor? A minute?"

Mayhew took Victor's elbow and pulled him aside, over by the worktable. Emily hung back and examined Dad's pride and joy, the blue Cadillac.

"Now, I don't want to be rude or anything," Mayhew said in a low voice. He glanced quickly at Emily, who was peering into the Cadillac's back window. "But...this...girl. I think she's dead."

"She is," Victor replied, also speaking quietly.

"That's weird, Victor," Mayhew said heavily. "Really weird."

"I know," Victor said. "Boy, do I know."

There was a silence. Then Mayhew blew out a gusty breath and scratched his head again.

"You didn't do any weird voodoo thing, did you?" he asked, looking Victor square in the eye.

"Of course not," Victor replied, a little offended.

"And...you're not planning any...any...well...funny business, are you?"

It took a second for Victor to grasp Mayhew's meaning. When he did, he bristled a bit. "Of course not! No way!" he said.

After a moment, Mayhew nodded. Victor sighed. "Like I said, it's a really long story and I promise I'll fill you in. But for now, Emily is a girl who just wants to go to prom because she never got to. It means a lot to her. And it turns out I'm the guy to take her. That's all there is to it. Okay?"

"Okay," said Mayhew. He still sounded a little unsure. But to his credit, he tossed his rag onto the worktable and brushed off his hands. Then he straightened his cap.

"Since it's a special occasion, let's take the Caddy out, shall we?" he said. Victor grinned.

0-0

Victoria was enjoying it. She was. Barry's gentle but confident exploring hands. His strong, well-muscled arms around her. The feel of his hair under her fingers. He'd lifted her legs and put them over his lap, and she even liked the way her full skirt had been rucked up nearly to her garter.

So why couldn't she stop thinking about Victor? Try as she might, she simply couldn't get him out of her head. Every time Barry touched her someplace new, she found herself pretending it was Victor. Every time Barry kissed her, she found herself missing the warmth she'd felt with Victor. As much fun as she was having, she couldn't help thinking how much more fun it would be with the boy she really liked.

Victoria loved Victor. And the more she thought about it, the more she refused to believe that a boy she loved would treat her so badly. Mr. Van Dort must have been wrong. Everybody had been wrong. Victoria wanted to hear from Victor's own mouth that he didn't love her anymore. Because she was sure that, yesterday at least, Victor had loved her very much.

She had to find him. She would not give him up. Not that easily.

"Barry?" she whispered, her mouth close to his ear. His skin was warm, and his cologne was dizzying.

"Mmm?" he had his mouth in the soft place where her neck met her shoulder. One of his hands was sliding up her thigh, fingers running along the top of her stocking.

"I—I think that's enough."

Barry stopped with a sigh. He gave her thigh a friendly sort of pat before taking his hand away and pulling away from her. Freed, Victoria slid back to her side of the seat and smoothed her skirt down. She also yanked up the top of her dress, which had slid down quite a lot. Barry had pulled out a comb and was fixing his hair in the rearview mirror.

"I guess it is always the quiet ones," he remarked to himself. He cleared his throat and put his comb back in his pocket. "Wow."

Victoria didn't know whether that was a compliment or not, so she just buckled her seatbelt. Barry wiped at his mouth to get the lipstick smears off, and then turned on the engine. In silence that was almost companionable they drove back toward town.

Hands folded over her purse in her lap, Victoria stared out the window. Cornfields. Town again. As soon as Barry dropped her off she'd go right to the Van Dorts' house to see if Victor had turned up. She needed to do something. Anything.

They were nearing the high school now. All the lights were on, and the parking lot was packed. There were even a few cars parked along the street. Barry slowed down as they passed.

"Prom night," he said. Victoria swallowed. She looked out over the sea of cars. She could see some kids milling around near the doors. Faint music and laughter reached them through the car windows. Somehow it made her sad to see all the public school kids in their finery, out having fun. That left-out feeling again. She sighed.

Headlights off to the side caught her eye. A Cadillac had just pulled into the side lot of the school, creating a parking spot for itself up on the grass. Victoria twisted in her seat. She knew that car. That was one of Mr. Van Dort's cars. He took it out on Sundays. Barry sped up as the road cleared, and she nearly put her whole head out the window to look back at the Cadillac.

Just before the view disappeared as Barry turned a corner, she saw Victor step out of the back of the car. Victoria gasped.

He's back! Was the first joyful thought that entered her mind. He's okay! Her heart swelled, but the joy quickly subsided. He was going to prom. Presumably with someone who wasn't her. Victoria faced forward again. They were passing houses now. Nearly home. She took all of five seconds to decide what she had to do.

"Stop!" Victoria cried. "Stop the car!"

"What?" Barry cried, alarmed. He slammed on the brakes, throwing both of them forward against their seatbelts. "Cat? Dog? What?"

Victoria had already unbuckled and was stepping out of the car. "What are you doing?" Barry demanded. "We're in the middle of the street!" She shut the door, and leaned in through the open window.

"Thanks for a nice night," she told him. Adrenaline was coursing through her, practically making her vibrate. If she didn't get out of here now she was going to lose her nerve. "Sorry for the trouble." Before she turned to go, she fished her pin money, five dollars, out of her bag. She held it out to him.

"You're paying me?" Barry asked, staring at the money in her fist. Victoria gave a little shrug.

"For...gasoline. And the trouble," she said. Barry blinked.

"Fine," he said, snatching the bill from Victoria's hand. "Fine. I'll take the money. Fine. I'm getting out of here."

This last wasn't directed at her, she didn't think. Victoria stepped onto the sidewalk and watched as Barry, tires squealing, made a k-turn in the nearest driveway. He almost hit the mailbox. He sped off in the direction of Main Street.

Victoria didn't have the time or the space in her head to wonder where he was going. Instead, she hauled up the slipping top of her dress, set her jaw, and headed for the high school. She was going to get some answers.