The skinny guy shrugged. "Who?" Oh, he was trying to be a good guard dog. "Maybe I can help you, instead, baby doll." He came real close, close enough that I took a step backwards. I shook my head and repeated my request.

"I want to talk to Tim."

The guy smirked. "How'd you even know to look for him here?"

Before I could answer, Tim walked out of the door. "Take a walk, spaghetti," he said, bizarrely. I only worked out that he was talking to the skinny guy when he then moved away from me, ducking inside the building.

Tim looked thoughtfully at me. "This is...unexpected."

I stared him out. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did we not cover the fact that you shouldn't get in the habit of being places you ain't meant to be?"

I had to clear my throat a little. It was a dusty walk. "I need some help with something."

"Aw, I thought maybe you came to shoot a little pool."

"Do you have a pool table in...?" I stopped as I realized he was laughing at me. When he did so, the scar on his face was no longer so distracting, his dark eyes were so full of life.

"What d'ya need, sweetheart?" He beckoned me to walk a little way from the building with him, into the shadows of the next warehouse over. I wondered if he didn't want any of his boys to hear us talking. I wondered if they were watching us from behind the boarded up windows.

Now that I was here, facing him, it felt almost ridiculous to say it out loud. I focused on how scared I'd been when the creep had caught me in the alley. How I'd felt sick to my stomach when I got the newspaper cutting in the mail. Not for me. I wasn't doing this for me.

"I need someone to disappear."

"You what?" Shit, he wasn't going to make this easy.

"This guy. The one Steve got into a fight with. He isn't letting it go, he threatened to..."

"Whoa, hold on." Tim interrupted, lighting a weed. He shook out the match he'd used, tossing it aside, watching me through the smoke of his first drag. "I have to say, sweetheart, Randle ain't gonna like that you're fighting his battles. You're kinda suggesting he ain't tough enough to handle this other guy..."

I shook my head impatiently. "No. It ain't like that. In a fair fight, of course Steve could take him. Hell, he did. You must've heard?" I knew the fight had been well discussed. "But Ricky ain't about fighting fair, he's gonna get his buddies to jump Steve and knife him, or worse. Then they'll hurt me. He sent me a message to say that was going to happen."

"He what?"

I told him about the deliveries, the guy in the alley. Tim's eyes narrowed when I repeated what he'd said they'd do to me. I was explicit. I was banking on him being old fashioned enough that the threats to me would swing his decision to help. I hoped that it wasn't just his sister he felt that way about.

"What did Randle say 'bout that?" When I hesitated, Tim exhaled sharply in annoyance. "Aw, c'mon, sweetheart, you told him?" He grimaced when I shook my head.

I bit my lip. "I want Steve kept right out of it. I don't want no come back on him. Nothing Ricky can blame on him. Nothing the fuzz can tie to him." That was very close to the truth. I was afraid that Steve would be angry enough to kill Ricky. I had no desire to see the consequences of that. Tim and his whole gang were expendable to me, if anything went wrong.

Tim took a couple of drags of his cigarette, studying me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So what d'ya expect me to do about it?"

"You did say the words 'I owe you'." I challenged.

"Oh, I did, did I?"

"Outside Buck's..."

"I remember. I don't think this was quite what I had in mind, when I imagined us keeping a secret from your boyfriend." He had a glint in his eye.

I shrugged, ignoring his insinuation. "Can't say it would have occurred to me, at the time."

"Okay, then, what you thinking now?"

"What happened to the creep who hurt Angela?"

The other smile was back. The one that didn't make him look attractive, the one that I needed. Tim didn't say a word.

I nodded. "See, if he disappeared, the way I think he did, Ricky could too. He's got a record. Assault. Drugs. He's on probation right now. What would he need to be caught with, to send him back inside for a long time?"

"Any number of things...but just because he's holdin', don't mean he gets picked up at the right time. Even then he might wriggle off the charge."

"I can take care of that."

Tim opened his mouth to ask something, then changed his mind. "Forget it, I don't think I wanna know." He shook his head. But I could see him wavering. "What's this fucker's name again?"

I told him. Tim frowned thoughtfully. "I know about him. I also know someone else who'd be happy to see him...disappear, as you put it. He's been making a nuisance of himself down by the river."

I had no doubt Ricky had pissed off any number of people. If that included the River Kings, my idea just got a whole lot more workable.

I smiled at Tim.

XXX

I asked Marian for a long lunch break on Saturday. I told her I had an important errand to run. I caught the bus as if I was heading home, but I got off early, walked along the street for the second time, thinking back to my first visit.

I didn't need to knock on the door this time. There was a good looking guy reading the paper on the front step. Prison short hair, but better quality tattoos. He was maybe twenty or so. He looked like a muscled version of Trey, so I assumed this was Buzz, enjoying his new liberty. He sipped a beer, watching me without comment as I walked up to the house. I noticed the dog was tied to the other end of the porch, asleep, which made me considerably happier.

"Sylvia in?" I kept my tone friendly, ignoring the way he looked me over.

"In, but still passed out."

I shrugged. "Mind if I...?" I walked past him without waiting for an answer, straight into the house. Someone was clattering in the kitchen but I headed up the stairs, like I knew where I was going.

The bathroom door was wide open and the one next to it had the same kind of music blasting from it that I'd heard last time, so I took a chance on the door opposite. The room was only half darkened by a thin blind, I could see her easily. The air was thick with cheap scent and unwashed sheets.

I shut the door behind me and let the blind all the way up.

"The fuck...?" Sylvia opened her eyes. Then shut them again, like she thought she was dreaming. I kicked the end of her mattress. She squinted at me. "Evie? What in God's name are you...?"

"Shut up and listen," I told her sharply.

Sylvia sat up, scrubbing her hair back out of her eyes. She hadn't taken her make up or clothes off before falling into bed and she looked like a poster child for a campaign against delinquency and fallen virtue.

"You need to tell Jack to pick up and charge someone. I'll give you the details. It's gonna happen tonight and it's gonna happen where I tell you."

"Are you high? What the fuck are you talkin' about?" Sylvia searched her night stand for a pack of Kools. I snatched them away from her.

"Pay attention, Sylvia. This is important."

"Why should I? Why should he do anything you say?"

I leaned across, to look her right in the eye. "Because if he don't, I'mma tell his boss and his wife about you." I repeated his address. And for good measure, his wife's name. It had been easy to find after a few pointers from Tim. Sylvia's eyes went wide. I smiled. "You tell Jack to do it. It'll be a big collar for him, he'll like that part."

"An' if I don't?" She was still belligerent, although I could see in her eyes she was afraid.

"Then I'll tell him about the parties at Charles's house."

I really hoped I'd read her right, that she still wanted the cop more than anything else, that this particular threat was enough. Sylvia licked her lips nervously. I knew I'd got her.

"And while we're on the subject," I continued. "You can forget about ever telling Dallas about Steve. Or the message about you still gets back to Jack's boss. Savvy?"

She nodded.

"Okay then. Listen up..."

XXX

We went to The Dingo. Steve was kind of surprised that I was the one who suggested it. Usually, it wasn't my favourite hangout on a Saturday night, too many hoods passing through. Of course, that night it was useful. I persuaded Steve I had a craving for their onion rings, since the rest of their food was rank. He didn't notice that I still let him eat most of them.

We'd bagged one of the tables outside. I'd insisted it was too warm to sit inside. The fact I now had a view of the whole parking lot meant nothing to the others, of course. We waved to a few people as they came and went, but many of them were on their own dates, so they didn't join us.

Sandy was quiet. I hadn't see her since the day I met Ricky's stooge. She was also being very affectionate to Soda. I couldn't believe this was just for my benefit. I wondered if the party hadn't gone as well as she wanted. Or maybe she finally had the guilts. If Steve or Soda brought up the 'girls' night' in conversation, I was tempted to let her twist in the wind.

"What gives?" I demanded, once we were in the bathroom. I hate all that 'girls have to go pee at the same time' garbage but I wanted to talk to her. And it was early, I didn't need to be outside just yet. She tried to make out she didn't know what I was getting at. I pointed out that I'd known her a long time and I waited.

She sighed at herself in the mirror, poking at her hair unnecessarily, smoothing her top and skirt. Eventually she rounded on me. "I suppose you're happy now? I had a horrible time on Friday. It wasn't anything like the first party." She pouted, daring me to crow.

I didn't know what she expected me to say. Yes, I was happy, if it meant the lying was over. But not if it meant she was back to being dissatisfied with her life. I wondered if she was simply someone who would never have what she thought she wanted. If she would always be chasing something brighter, something more exciting.

Six months ago, she'd have been dancing on tables at the thought of having Soda as a steady boyfriend. But then, six months ago, I'd have been horrified at the idea of Steve and I as a couple. I smiled as I remembered the way he'd kissed me when he picked me up earlier. The boy was hot as Hell.

"See? You think I deserved to have a crappy time. Go on then, fuckin' tell me you told me so." Sandy leapt on the fact I was smiling.

"Did I say that?" I snapped back. "But, Christ, Sandy, I ain't sorry if it means you're over this."

She sniffed, making out like she was the aggrieved party. But like I said, I'd known her a long time. I waited a moment, then I nudged her and nodded at something I'd noticed written on the wall. It was a variation on 'There once was a girl from Nantucket...' And it was about Sylvia.

It was actually quite well written, it scanned and everything. And it was all the funnier, because she was really famous for the skill it was talking about.

Sandy bit her lip, but couldn't stop a giggle bursting out. "Did you write that?"

"I wish I had!" I laughed. She grinned at me and I knew we were okay. I hoped that meant she and Soda would be okay too.

As we headed out, a couple of girls were coming towards the bathroom. They were younger than us, dolled up and teetering like they'd never worn heels before.

"I can't believe you did that!" One was hissing to the other in awe. "You gave Sodapop Curtis your number." They stopped short as they recognised us. We paused, effectively blocking their way.

Sandy folded her arms, staring them down, her eyes flashing as she smiled slowly. The one who'd spoken ducked behind her friend with a squeak. Sandy glanced at me and I gave a fantastically evil smile back. She walked forward, speaking to them quietly and slowly.

"Out. Of. Your. League." She swept them aside. I followed, listening to them scurry away into the bathroom. We made it as far as the main door before we collapsed into laughter, doing impressions of their frightened little faces. As we reached the boys, we were still recovering from the giggling fit.

"You been drinkin' in there?" Steve squinted at me suspiciously as I slid onto the bench next to him. Sandy didn't sit down. Soda looked up at her, wondering why. Straight faced now, she simply held out her hand.

Steve snorted with laughter as Soda put his hand in his pocket and handed over a paper napkin with writing on it. Sandy screwed it up and tossed it towards the nearest trash can. It would have been more impressive if she had any ball skills at all, because it landed short, but the point was made.

Before Soda could say anything, Sandy leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth. He beamed as they broke apart, but she slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't take it, next time. And don't give me any of that 'I was only bein' polite' shit, neither." He grabbed her around the middle and pulled her onto their bench, where the tickling turned into kissing.

"Don't you wanna know if I got any numbers when you were gone?" Steve tried to look mysterious.

"Nah," I said lightly. "They were babies. I'm sure they were just distracted by the shiny object." He smirked as Soda looked up, not a hundred per cent sure if I was insulting him or not.

Sandy arranged herself more comfortably on the seat, leaning against Soda as she sipped her drink.

A dark red Fairlane pulled in and Tim climbed out with a couple of his boys. He sent one inside, presumably for drinks, and spent some time chatting with guys on the other side of the lot. There was a deal of laughter.

"What's he driving there, a '61?" Soda craned his neck to see.

"'60. Taillights." Steve said cryptically.

"Did Ponyboy have a nice birthday?" I asked Soda, for something to say, that wasn't about Tim. He wrinkled his nose.

"Yes and no. Kind of tough on him, first one without Mom and Dad." Shit. I could have kicked myself.

"Oh, Of course. Sorry."

He smiled. "But he ate his own body weight in birthday cake, so it wasn't all bad. Darry gave him these tuff new running shoes, so he should be in Pony's good books for a while."

"Yeah? That's good. What'd you get him?"

"Some book he wanted...before you ask, some weird name, I forget. There was a movie about it he liked an' he wanted to go over the story again. He's kind of a nerd, huh?" But his voice was warm when he said it. I'd seen the two of them together, I knew he wouldn't ever really do Ponyboy down.

"Steve, did you get him something?" I'd been nagging him to do so for a week or more. Steve rolled his eyes.

"He ain't my kid brother."

I gave him a hard look. He stared back, then made a face at me. "Yes. I gave him two packs of smokes and a 'Playboy'."

"Steve, you didn't!"

"What's wrong with that? Talk about the gift that keeps on giving. Hours of pleasure..." He made an obscene gesture, meant for Soda's eyes, but plainly visible to me. "The kid keeps complain' he don't wanna be treated like a kid." He justified himself. He didn't do a good job of keeping a straight face and ended up sniggering with Soda. Sandy and I sighed and attempted to ignore them.

I didn't react when a second car pulled up, next to Tim's. Three boys got out. I thought one was the skinny look out. Another one looked familiar too, but I couldn't see him clearly. They spoke to Tim briefly and then headed inside the diner. Tim rounded up the ones that had arrived in his car, but as they were getting back in the Fairlane, he sauntered over to us.

"Thought that was you, Curtis." He nodded at Soda, then Steve. They both nodded back. Tim smiled at me and Sandy. "Ladies." Steve laid his arm casually across my shoulders. Body language seems to feature heavily in boy communication.

"Seen my idiot of a brother over at your place?" Tim asked Soda. Soda said no. Tim shrugged. "He'll keep. Don't tell him I'm looking, if you see him. I favour the element of surprise." His gaze rested on me, for just a second.

"Was that Trey with you?" Sandy piped up, from the safety of Soda's arms. Oh. That's who I recognised.

"Yup." Tim's response seemed to drain Sandy of her nerve to talk to him. She concentrated on sipping her drink. I was slightly freaked that Trey had been part of the lookout crew, reporting back here to Tim. I didn't know he ran with the Shepard gang. It was a bit weird to think he'd been waiting on his sister's lover, without knowing it.

"I would invite you boys for a little poker game I'm setting up tonight, but I see you have better things to do." Tim winked and staring walking back to his car. He turned back as if he'd just remembered something. "Don't bother driving down to the river. The fuzz are all over the park there, I hear."

Done. All done. I never wanted to yell so much in all my life. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

"Curly's in deep shit," Soda commented, gleefully, once Tim was out of earshot. "Wonder what he did?"

I smiled to myself. I knew Curly had been no more than a convenient reason to talk to us.

I didn't know exactly what Tim had arranged with Adam Murphy, the leader of the River Kings, to have planted in Ricky's car. Nor how they got Ricky there. I just knew that Tim was happy to have Murphy think he'd helped him out with a problem. It tipped their ongoing balance towards the Shepard gang for a little while.

And it freed me from the spectre of Ricky, because he'd know it was Murphy, since it went down on River Kings' turf. And that would be way more important to him than getting back at Steve.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could relax.

I slid my arms around Steve and held him tightly, burying my head in his shoulder so I could grin without anyone seeing.

"Was Shepard winking at you?" Steve growled in my ear.

"Me?" I tried to sound indignant. "I believe he referred to me as one of your 'better things to do', I figured he was winking at you."

"I heard him say that about us. Who does he fuckin' think he is?" Sandy said indignantly.

"Wanna ask him?" I looked over her shoulder, like Tim was walking back. Sandy jumped and turned around nervously. I laughed at her. I was feeling like we needed to do something, go somewhere. "Come on, let's split. There's no scene here," I stood up, pulling Steve's arm.

"Where to?"

I smiled and reached into his pocket for the key to the Chevy. Before Steve could object, I handed it to Sodapop. "I'm thinking Soda can drop us off at my house an' we let him and Sandy have the car." I could see Soda was definitely on board with this idea.

"What about your sister?" Steve was wary.

"Sarah's out. She won't be back until eleven thirty. On the dot." I made a gagging gesture. "I've had enough of doin' things her way. I live there too. C'mon." I opened the rear door. "I've never been in the back...when it was drivin'!" I finished against all their laughter.

There was only a certain amount of distraction necessary, to keep Steve from objecting to Soda's driving style. It was nice though. And it was different in the back, when the car was going. We hopped out a little way down the street from my house, in case Ma happened to hear the doors closing. She'd surprised me that time she'd mentioned seeing Soda and I was ready to piss off Sarah, not to upset Ma.

Steve went quietly upstairs as I said 'hello' loudly to Ma, leaning around the door to the front room. She was half asleep already and waved at me vaguely, from the couch. Sarah would see her to bed if she didn't make it by herself.

I headed up the stairs, to find Steve scowling at the bedroom wall. "Still here then, is he?"

"Live with it, Randle," I said, unbuttoning his shirt and considerably improving the expression on his face. "Paul Newman stays."