"Well." Dorian clapped his hands and looked down at the bodies sprawled on the turf. "We just wanted to say that it's been a great camp. You guys have worked really hard, and we're excited to have you as part of the Blue Wave. Be sure to keep up with your conditioning when you go home, and… we'll see you soon. Allie?"
The blonde cheerleader's green eyes snapped in the afternoon sun. "Don't come back to school out of shape. These last two weeks have been your introduction to our program. You're part of the Blue Wave now. Respect that, take pride in it, and be ready to work your asses off."
Dorian gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. "Tonight's the big scavenger hunt, so you should clean up, get to dinner, and have a good time." He raised a hand and waved. "Until we see you again, let the Blue Wave roll." The campers applauded, then pulled themselves upright and weaved their tired way toward Southard.
"Thanks for inviting me over, Mrs. Summers." Willow placed her napkin in her lap.
"I feel it's the least I could do after our last… encounter." Joyce smiled a very tight smile and turned to Buffy. "Do you need anything, honey?"
"No, mom, I have my napkin, my fork, my spoon, my knife, my plate, and my glass," The Slayer held up each object in turn, "just like I did the last time you asked."
"Sorry," Joyce said.
Buffy looked at Willow. "The weirdest part is how he just… walked away, I mean, one minute we're there, and then he's just… gone."
"Yeah," Willow said. "Like when Oz and Xander left, and then Cordelia. Just a wave of the hand and 'Bye bye'."
"Exactly." Buffy turned to her mother. "Was that what it was like when you and Dad got divorced?"
"I think," Joyce said, getting up from the table, "that I am going to be very diplomatic and withdraw to the kitchen, where something surely needs my attention." She gave a wry nod and left the room.
Buffy made a cringe face. "That was…?"
"Yikes," Willow said. "That was 'yikes'."
The Slayer covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe I did that." She opened her hands like wings on either side of her face and raised her voice. "Mom? I'm really sorry."
"It's all right." Joyce came back into the dining room, a platter in her hands. "Dinner is served."
"Oh, what is this?" Willow asked as she picked up her fork.
"Pearl couscous with marinated chicken breasts," Joyce said. She dished a portion onto Willow's plate, then looked at Buffy. "And for the record, yes, it was a little like that… a long time coming, but then over all at once."
The group of campers arrived at the junction of two sidewalks and stopped, looking at the sheets of paper in their hands. The ambient glow of the millions of lights of Los Angeles created a softly glowing dome, while velvety darkness enveloped the Wainwright campus, punctuated by the tall, widely spaced lamps along the sidewalk and mounted beside the doors of the various buildings.
"That way." Cordelia pointed to the right. "Sartor Hall is right down there."
"I think Flanagan is closer. It's straight ahead." The speaker, a stocky boy with a deep rolling voice, used his question list to gesture in his proposed direction.
"Sartor's closer," Cordelia insisted.
"If we stand here arguing, we won't get to either one of them," Tess said. "I can see Sartor from here. I'm going that way." The boy with the deep voice grumbled, but as the others fell into line behind Cordelia and Tess, he followed. Tess's long legs brought her to the broad stone steps of the Sartor Humanities Building ahead of the rest of the pack. "There," she said, pointing. Everyone wrote down the pertinent information posted beside the front door, a few of them using their fellow campers' backs as impromptu desks.
"What's next?" a female voice asked.
As she looked down at the list of hints, Cordelia caught sight of another group cutting across campus. She recognized the clipped, rapid strides of the person out front: Juniper. Cordelia raised her voice. "A building built during World War 2. Anybody?"
"I think I saw that Wilson was built in 1942. That's World War 2, right?"
"Somebody with a map, where's Wilson?" Cordelia barked. "Where? Okay, that way."
"So, where are you girls off to tonight?" Joyce asked as she placed the plates in the sink.
Buffy shrugged. "A movie didn't feel right and the mall's too… normal right now. I think we're just going to take a walk." She put three glasses down on the counter.
"Well, enjoy. It should be a lovely evening." A conspiratorial smile graced Joyce's face. "For all its… flaws, Sunnydale has wonderful weather."
"Okay," Buffy said. "Don't wait up, okay."
Joyce held up a hand. "I make no promises."
The Slayer looked at her mother for a moment, then quickly leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I know," she said. "The one person who won't let me down."
The lawn outside Keehner was dotted with clusters of campers saying good-bye: lots of tears (speech and drama leading the way, natch), promises to stay in touch, and a few deep kisses among couples who had apparently met their soulmates in the last two weeks. Saturday night was alright for a lot of things at Wainwright; Sunday was the day for departure. The cheerleading contingent was in the throes of farewell. It turned out that Kelli was the cryer who was going to miss everyone so much. Cordelia was not surprised: she had decided early on that Kelli's yearbook inscriptions all included balloon hearts and the words "Luv ya".
"What's the rest of your summer look like?" David asked. The campers had received a gift bag after completing the scavenger hunt. It was shiny and sported Wainwright's logo, a double oval of dark and light blue around an abstract depiction of a cresting wave, also in the two shades of blue; David's dangled from his left hand.
Cordelia shrugged. "Probably just lifeguarding and working out. There aren't a lot of options in Sunnydale."
"Being a lifeguard sounds like fun." Maria bounced on her toes, her night-black hair bobbing. "I'm just going to be working at my uncle's restaurant."
"Yes, it's a life of glamor." Cordelia snorted. "I had to stop an eighth-grader from using a diving mask to spy on girls going off the high dive."
"Why would he do that?" Maria tilted her head to one side.
"Because when you hit the water off the high diver, you can–" Cordelia raised her hands chest-high and made a flipping motion.
"Huh?" Maria said, then her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean your boobs…"
"Yeah." Cordelia cocked an eyebrow. "That's the exciting world of lifeguarding."
"Could you give me that kid's number?" Wyatt snickered.
"God, super-mature, Why-nut." Amber scoffed. 'Why-nut' was the nickname she had given Wyatt during the second week of camp and it had stuck like super glue.
"I just wanna say that I've had a great time with you guys, and I'm super-excited about this fall," Tamarra said.
"Yeah." Kelli wiped away tears with both hands. "This has been awesome."
"Hey, hate to run," David said. "But I need to say good-bye to someone." He nodded to the group and walked away, long strides eating up the ground. He pulled up beside the girl with the waterfall hair, the one who'd played the guitar in the common room.
"Oh, 'saying good-bye' is what we're calling it." Amber shook her head. "Listen guys, I'll see you when we come back. I'm gonna talk to some people and then turn in. I actually have to work tomorrow afternoon." She waved and headed off. The rest of the group said their good-byes and drifted away, until Cordelia and Juniper were left. As they looked at each other without looking at each other, Tess came up.
"Nice bag of swag," the volleyball player said, holding up the object in question. "Planner, fleece, cap… not bad."
"Yeah," Cordelia said, hefting her own blue paper sack. The three girls stood in the warm night air, the LA traffic sounding much more distant than it was, the bricks of the sidewalk perceptible through the soles of their shoes, then Juniper spoke her first words of the evening.
"You better be in shape when we get back," she said. "Because I will be."
Cordelia pulled her head back and made an "uh!" sound. "You might want to take some sandpaper to that personality."
"Just the truth." Juniper lifted her head; her chin pointed at Cordelia like a deadly weapon. "I'm looking forward to it." She walked away and left Cordelia shaking her head.
"Okay," Tess said, "that was deeply weird. Anyway, do you have a roommate for the fall?"
Cordelia blinked. "No," she said. "I haven't even thought about it."
Tess's head bobbed back and forth. "I don't either, but you keep your side of the room clean, and you don't bother my stuff, so I was thinking, we might be roommates."
"I, uh…" Cordelia stammered, taken off-guard. "I guess, maybe."
Tess shrugged. "I thought it might be better than taking my chances with some rando. How about this? I'll give you my phone number, you wait a week, if I don't hear from you, I'll make the request. Is that okay?"
Cordelia considered the statement from all possible angles, then said, "Sure, I guess."
"Will you be gone long?"
Buffy looked over her shoulder. "Just going for a walk around the 'hood. We might just decide to walk Will home. If we do, I'll call you." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it.
"Of course," Joyce said. "You have a phone now. Silly me."
"Yeah," Buffy replied, "and since it's the weekend and it's free, we might just dial up random numbers to see who answers."
Willow shook her head. "We would never do that, Mrs. Summers." She turned to Buffy and lowered her voice. "We wouldn't, right?"
The Slayer put a hand on her friend's arm. "No, Will, because that would be dumb. Bye, mom, see you later."
Delilah sat down at the desk, one of the few items salvaged from CRD, and picked at a thread on her jacket sleeve. The garment was getting a bit worn, but replacements were not thick on the ground.
"Did it go well?"
Delilah looked at her minion; the thought 'her minion' caused a small thrill to run up her spine. "Easy-peasy," she said. "They were alone, never really suspected a thing. Grabbed them almost as soon as they came out."
"So, when does it begin?"
"It already has. First, mommy has to realize they're not coming home, then everyone gets frantic." Delilah held up a gray plastic rectangle. "One of them even had a phone, which opens up so many possibilities." She sat back. "I'm so looking forward to this."
The wine-red Thunderbird rolled along 101, past Oxnard and headed for Santa Barbara. With every mile, Cordelia felt her mood darken. By the time she saw Sunnydale listed on the highway signs, her heart felt like it weighed a ton. As she drove along the streets of the town where she had spent her entire life, every memory seemed tainted and sour. She pulled into Matti's driveway, took out the duffel bags, and felt as alone as she ever had. Living at her cheerleading coach's house (put the Knight stuff on hold, that was too weird), calling it the closest she had to a home, and realizing, deep down, that it was as much a home as the house where she'd lived for the previous seventeen years... it was all too weird and depressing.
She hitched the bags in her hands and trudged up the steps. When she opened the door, she could hear a muffled thumping that stopped when she dropped the bags on the floor. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of rapid footsteps on the basement stairs. Matti stepped into the dining room. She was in what Cordelia had come to describe as "serious workout mode": her hair was braided tight to her head and she wore her fingerless lifting gloves. They looked quietly at each other.
"I… I expected you later," Matti said.
"We kind of had the big emotional farewells last night," Cordelia said off-handedly. "We just sorta had breakfast and left."
"So… how was it?"
"I learned a lot of the routines. Found out one of the captains is a world-class bitch." She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "Maybe got a roommate."
Matti nodded. "One of the other cheerleaders?"
"No," Cordelia responded. "She's plays volleyball."
"Okay, nice." Matti nodded again, this time toward the duffel bags. "Let me guess, mostly laundry?"
"Uh, yeah. And a cheer binder."
Matti gestured toward the stairs. "Take it downstairs, we'll get it started." She blew out a breath that puffed her cheeks. "There's a lot to tell you."
"And he just left?" Cordelia leaned against the dryer and watched Matti hit the heavy bag.
Matti popped the bag with two left jabs and a hard right cross, then grabbed it. "No, that would have been easier. He had to try to explain why he was leaving to Buffy."
Cordelia winced. "Ouch. I bet that very special episode of The Facts of Life did not go well."
"No, it did not… although the picture of Giles as Miss Garrett takes away some of the sting." Matti threw two left hooks followed by three knee strikes.
The dryer chimed and Cordelia stood up straight. "Why did he do it?"
Matti sighed. "Something he thought was true turned out to be a lie. On top of that, people died because of the lie. It's created a hole, and he's got to try and fill it." She roundhouse kicked the bag, which jumped at the end of its chain.
"I can feel that," Cordelia muttered under her breath. She crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. "So, Giles asked you to watch out for Buffy."
Matti dropped her hands. "That sounded strange. Something on your mind?"
Cordelia felt her nose wrinkling. "No, we just all have to watch out for Buffy. She's the Slayer, you know, the Special One."
"Cordelia." Matti shook her head. "Don't be that way. I said I'd keep an eye on her, sure, but it's not like I'm taking her in to raise." She cocked an eyebrow as she ended the sentence. Cordelia stood looking at her, lips pursed.
The ringing of the phone upstairs broke the tableau. "I'll get it," Cordelia said, running up the treads. "You get the laundry." She swung around the doorway and grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"
"Ms.- Ms. Hollis?" The voice was familiar to Cordelia, but also odd and choked.
"She'll be here in a second," the cheerleader said.
"C- Cordelia? Are you back from camp?"
Recognition broke upon the scene like the rising of the sun. "Skyler? What's wrong?"
"Oh- Oh god, it's my fault, or everyone's gonna blame me, but I didn't… I just–" An anguished wail burst from the speaker, followed by heart-wrenching sobs. Cordelia looked up and saw Matti standing there, hand outstretched.
"Sk-Skyler, I'm going to give the phone to Ms. Hollis, OK?" She handed the phone to the Knight, an 'I have no idea' look on her face.
"Skyler? Skyler? Child, I need you to speak words, okay? I'm going to put you on speaker, so Cordelia can hear this, too." She punched a button with her thumb. The sound of Skyler's hitching, blubbering breathing crackled through the air. "Okay, tell me what's wrong."
"They're gonna say it's my fault–"
"What's your fault?" Matti said. "What happened?"
"The twins- the twins, they-"
Matti looked at Cordelia, a question in her eyes. Cordelia nodded and leaned toward the phone. "Skyler, do you mean…" Cordelia wracked her brain for a name. "... Rhiannon, and…" She bit her lip. She could not remember the other girl's name.
"Nicole, yeah." Skyler was talking way too fast.
"Skyler, you need to take some deep breaths." Matti glanced at Cordelia. "You're going to hyperventilate if you don't."
"Did. Something. Happen. To. The. Twins?" Cordelia said, then hunched her shoulders and held up her hands in confusion when Matti gave her the stinkeye.
"Yeah, yeah. You know how I always have to go to the mall with them?"
Matti looked at Cordelia, who nodded. "Yes," the teacher said.
"Well, they wanted… they wanted to go yesterday, and I was just so tired of them, and it was such a nice day and I just… I just couldn't stand being around them again, so, when their mom called my mom, I just said 'No, I can't do it', and they went anyway, and now they're missing."
Matti looked at Cordelia, who could see that the Knight was totally not following, so the cheerleader leaned toward the phone. "Skyler, are you sure they're missing?"
"Yeah." They could hear Skyler start to sob again. "Their mom called my mom, and now the police are at their house, and my mom keeps looking at me… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't want anything bad to happen to them."
"Skyler!" Cordelia used her captain voice, the one that got unleashed when the squad was dogging it in practice. "Skyler, listen, they're going to be alright. We're going to find them. It will be okay." She turned and quick-stepped toward the door. Matti covered the phone with her hand.
"Where are you going?" she stage-whispered.
Cordelia whirled around in the open doorway. "To let Buffy know I'm home from camp."
"Cordelia?" Buffy's voice mixed surprise and resignation in equal measure.
The cheerleader waited on the porch until the pause stretched to an awkward length, then said, "So, can I come in?"
"Sure." Buffy stepped aside. "I didn't realize you were back."
"Obviously, I am." Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "I heard about Giles dumping you."
The Slayer leaned against the open door. "Cordelia, he didn't dump me."
"Sure, okay." Cordelia stepped across the threshold. "I need your help."
"Well, you've certainly made me want to offer my assistance," Buffy said as she closed the door. "Sit down. What do you need?"
"Cordelia." Joyce came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "I thought I heard your voice. How was your camp?"
"It was good." Cordelia raised her hand from the sofa.
"Mom, Cordelia needs to talk to me about something."
"Oh." Joyce nodded." Well, let me toss this in the laundry, then I'll leave you alone. How's that?"
"Thanks." The Slayer turned back to the cheerleader. "So… spill."
"I need you to help find two missing girls."
"Whoa, whoa. Back up there, Seabiscuit." Buffy waved her hands in front of her. "Bring me up to speed, okay?"
Cordelia scoffed and put her hands in her lap. "I got a call from Skyler-"
"See, there's a fact I could use. Who's Skyler?"
"She's a cheerleader. She–"
Buffy held up a hand. "Wait… tall? And with shoulders?"
Cordelia looked taken aback. "Yes… how do you…?"
"She said hi to us at the movies one night, she thought you were with us."
"Oh." Cordelia took a beat to digest that fact. "Anyway, there are these two girls-"
"Small, look like they're freshmen or eighth-graders, really, really blond hair, almost white?"
Cordelia looked annoyed. "Really?"
Buffy shrugged. "You kinda… remember them."
"Yeah, you do." Cordelia's eyes widened for a heartbeat. "Anyway, Skyler goes to the mall with them a lot, she doesn't like to, but, her mom and their mom are, like, related or friends or something, and they make Skyler be the den mother. Are you following?"
"As closely as possible." Buffy's face was the paradigm of innocence.
"So, yesterday, I don't know, afternoon or evening, Skyler begged off and wouldn't go, so the goblin twins–" Cordelia stopped short and looked embarrassed. "Sorry."
"Not great timing, but… I see it," the Slayer said.
"They went to the mall by themselves and now they're missing."
"How do you know they're missing?"
Cordelia held out a hand. "Right? That's what I asked. Skyler says the police are at the house–"
"Her house?"
"No, the gob– the twins' house… the police are there, and Skyler says their mom has called her mom."
"That's pretty solid." Buffy bit her lip. "Sooooo, why is Skyler wigging so hard?"
Cordelia looked down at her folded hands. "I told you, she said she wouldn't go to the mall with them, and now she thinks everyone will blame her."
"That's stupid," the Slayer said. "She's taking too much responsibility…" She noticed the expression on Cordelia's face. "Okay, that's legit. Fine, she thinks people are blaming her, I can get that." She tilted her head to the side. "Why did you drive all the way to my house?"
"Skyler's a good person." Cordelia looked away to her left. "She was the first one to tell me she thought I was a good captain… She had my back after the… stuff happened. People I've known all my life threw me under the bus… she didn't."
Buffy listened silently, then said, "I'll see what I can do. I'll call Will and ask her to break out her internet skills and see what she can find out, maybe get some information there." She stood up. "I'll go by the mall tomorrow, see if I see anything. That's kind of a needle-haystack sitch, but it's a start."
"Okay." Cordelia stood up, car keys in her hand, then hesitated, struggling with something. Finally, she said, "Thank you."
"Oh, wow." Buffy melodramatically dropped back into the chair and raised a wrist to her forehead. "I do believe I've been overcome by the vapors."
"Ha, ha." Cordelia stalked to the door. "See if I'm nice next time."
"Next time'll be the first time," Buffy said. "Wait a minute." She got her feet under her and stood. "Cordy, I promise I'll do my best."
Cordelia glanced down at her keys, then back at the Slayer. "I know you will." She went down the steps and out to her car. As she backed out of the driveway, a thought occurred to her. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Yes, there was time for one more quick stop.
Cordelia strode across the food court, ignoring the custodians stacking chairs and the eaters dawdling over their late purchases. She made a beeline toward Hot Dog on a Stick and a surprised Casey Porter. "Can I talk to you?"
"Uh…" Casey looked at her co-worker. "Can I have a minute, Tim?"
He shrugged. "Sure. But don't make me start closing by myself."
"I won't." Casey slipped out from behind the counter.
Cordelia led the way to a bench just outside the food court. "Have you seen the goblin twins?"
Casey blinked. "Uh, yeah, I see them here with Skyler all the time. They-"
"Without Skyler. Have you seen them here by themselves? Yesterday, maybe?"
Casey frowned. "Y'know, it's weird that you ask that, because I did see them here, and I thought it was kinda odd that they were by themselves, but I thought that Skyler was maybe in the bathroom and I just didn't see her."
"Did you see them leave? Talk to anybody?"
Casey shrugged. "Not really. It was after the theater let out, so we were kinda slammed. I only noticed because, you know, their hair."
Cordelia nodded. "Okay, after the movie was over, so it was, what… eight-thirty?"
"Probably. We always get a late rush, usually eight-thirty, sometimes a quarter 'til. If the movie's two hours long, we're closed by the time they get here."
Cordelia thought. "Did you see them before the rush?"
Casey blinked and considered the question. "I really don't think so. Like I said, we were getting everything ready for close… we do that so that when the rush is over, we can just, swoosh, go right into closing, so we're out of here at, like, nine-thirty instead of ten."
Cordelia nodded. "Okay, that's good, so, you're getting ready to close, and you don't see the goblins?"
"No." Casey shook her head. "And the food court wasn't that busy before the theater let out, especially over there." She pointed toward a section of tables across the tiled court.
"And that's where they were sitting?"
"Yeah." Casey bit her lip and frowned in concentration. "Yeah, I had just given a guy his order, I remember because it was a big order, and I was grabbing for the rag to wipe down the counter before the next customer and I saw them, them and–" She looked at Cordelia. "They were talking to someone, I mean, not like talking talking, but a person was standing at the table." She stared at the cheerleader. "How did I forget that?"
Cordelia waved a hand. "Happens all the time. Can you remember anything about this other person?"
Casey nodded. "Yeah, because I think the reason I forgot was that, when I saw them, I thought 'Why are they talking to that black lady?', and then, I thought that was kinda racist, so I just sorta… put it outta my mind, I guess."
Cordelia pressed the fingers of her right hand to her forehead. "So, they probably came out of the theater, then came here, where you saw them… interact with this black lady?"
Casey looked troubled. "Do you think it was, you know, racist of me to notice that?"
Cordelia restrained the urge to eye-roll. "No, Casey, I don't."
"I really don't wanna be a racist." She looked at the clock above the exit door. "I gotta go help with close."
"Sure," Cordelia said. "Thanks."
"So, it's true? Cordelia was right?"
"Yup." Willow's voice was slightly tinny in the Slayer's ear. "Definitely a call to SPD about two missing girls, definitely a car dispatched in response. Says they went to the mall, didn't come home, parents thought they might be hanging out with friends, started calling said friends… Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme."
Buffy cast a wary glance at the phone. "That was cynical."
"I've hacked into the police files so many times… Evil is banal, and repetitive."
The Slayer leaned against the wall, phone in hand. She was dressed for bed in a pair of poplin pajama pants and a spaghetti-strap top. "I guess the thing to do, then, is go to the mall and see if we find anything."
"Tomorrow morning?"
"Everything opens at ten. Let's get there, ten-fifteen, okay?"
"Sounds good. 'Night, Buffy."
"Good night, Willow."
Cordelia was breathless as she came through the front door. "I know something."
Matti stood up from the sofa. She had changed into dark blue sweatpants and a white tank top. "What did Buffy tell you?"
"Huh? Nothing… oh, yeah, she said she'd help, but she didn't tell me anything." Cordelia stopped and took a deep breath. "I mean, I found a clue myself."
"You did?" The shadow of skepticism floated through Matti's voice.
"Uh, yes. I mean, I'm not Miss Marble, but I'm not helpless, either."
"You mean Miss… Okay, what did you find?"
Cordelia sat down in one of the armchairs, her foot twitching with nervous energy. "I went by the mall, and talked to somebody I know who works there. She said the twins were there not too long before closing last night."
Matti nodded. "Good, that's solid intel. Helps establish a time frame."
"That's not all." Cordelia leaned forward. "They were talking to someone, a lady." She hesitated. "I feel like I'm in an iffy place right now, so I'm just going to say it… She was a black lady."
Matti sat for a moment, nodding. "Cordelia, I'm a black lady."
Cordelia blinked, stunned for a moment, then rallied. "Yeah, but we know you didn't do it."
"Yes, also true. My point is..." Matti leaned back against the sofa cushions and tapped her folded hands against her chin. "There is one obvious connection, maybe."
Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Trick was black, too." She held up her hands and spoke quickly. "I totally don't mean that in a racist way, and I'm not saying that all black people know each other, or even that all black vampires know each other, or that black people are criminals, or that this lady was a vampire, or that she was evil, or even that all black vampires are evil-" She stopped abruptly. "Wait, all black vampires are evil, aren't they?"
Matti's mouth twitched, then she fell over sideways on the sofa, roaring with laughter. Cordelia's face felt hot. Finally, the Knight's mirth subsided and she returned to a sitting position. "Well, you certainly tied yourself in a knot there. Yes, black vampires are evil." She shook her head. "Man, you don't realize how badly you need a laugh… Anyway, yes, I was thinking of Trick." She stood up. "I believe it's time to do a little online detective work."
Cordelia looked confused. "But... the library's closed, and we can't get in the school."
"I know, which is why I'm going to use the computer in my bedroom."
"Wait, what?" Cordelia shot to her feet. "There's a computer in this house? When did you get a computer?"
"You have been gone for two weeks," Matti said, walking toward her room. "Anyway, the school's IT department is providing free access to faculty and staff, so I signed up and went shopping. You want to watch?"
Cordelia shook her head. "No… Every time Willow does that, everyone is so 'Ooooooh', but she's just typing at a keyboard."
"Exactly. This will be pretty boring. You go to bed." Matti shook her head. "You've done plenty."
"I am pretty tired." One of Cordelia's cheeks twitched "How's Skyler?"
"She finally calmed down a little. I just let her dump it all out, I think it helped. At least she could talk without bawling by the time we hung up." Matti made a shooing gesture. "Get some sleep. I'll tell you what I find in the morning."
Mackenzie Moss paced back and forth behind her desk. Today's pantsuit was navy-blue. The jacket was draped over her chair and she had rolled up the cuffs of her navy-and-white striped shirt. She stopped as the office door opened. "Tell me where we're at," she said.
Jaime Arrabal's sage-green oxford shirt was slightly rumped, the creases around his eyes a little deeper. "Seems like we definitely have two missing juveniles on our hands."
Mackenzie's lips practically disappeared as she pulled her hair back tight with both hands. "Well, that's not good, is it? That's not good at all. Tell me what's being done, what's our response?"
"Mind if I sit?" Jaime didn't wait for an answer; he simply lowered himself into one of the visitor's chairs and sighed, gesturing toward the Herman Miller chair behind the desk. "I suggest that you sit down, too."
Mackenzie went into a slight crouch, hands in front of her, index fingers extended. "I'm not a person who sits when there's work to be done."
Jaime shrugged. "Suit yourself, but wearing a rut in the floor won't make anything go faster." He rested his left ankle on his right knee. "We received the call late morning yesterday. Apparently, the two girls went to the mall and, when they didn't come home, the parents assumed they were spending the night with friends. When they woke up yesterday morning and their daughters still were not home, they began calling friends, and finally determined that the girls were not at anyone's house, which is when we were called."
"So, the kids had been missing, what, twelve hours before they called? Jesus, they sound like real parent-of-the-year candidates." Mackenzie gave her head a violent shake.
"We immediately dispatched a unit to the home, followed by a detective. Interviews were taken with the parents and we began the process with neighbors. We also contacted the mall's management and asked for all security footage from the time the girls left their home until closing time on Saturday. That's being cataloged and examined as we speak, but it's going to take a lot of time. We'll also be interviewing every mall employee who worked Saturday."
Mackenzie stopped pacing and held up a hand. "What about community outreach?"
"What does that even mean?"
She shot him a hard look. "Flyers, information to the media, anything that says we care and we're on top of this."
Jaime looked down and closed his eyes. "The most important thing right now is to get this investigation underway. Statistically, the chances of resolving this sort of case go way down after twenty-four hours."
Mackenzie's eyes narrowed. "We're already past that."
"Yes, we are." He returned her stare.
"Okay. Okay." Mackenzie nodded twice and looked down at her desktop. "Here's what's going to happen. You are going to conduct the best investigation you've ever conducted, and I, I am going to make sure that Sunnydale knows that we are on this. We're going to put out a call for information, start a tip line–"
"Those are a real headache," Jaime said.
"I know that. Every nutcase in three counties will be calling in saying he saw the girls at Von's at three a.m., that's true, but… it lets the community feel like it's contributing." She rubbed a hand over her mouth. "We'll man the line here, that way you don't have any officers tied up. We'll get flyers posted, maybe get some local deep-pocket types to put up a reward…"
"That's not-"
"Stop telling me what's not!" She leveled an index finger at him. "I know the odds here, but that's not my concern. My concern is communicating to this town that we are engaged, active, and on top of things. You do your job, but you and I both know the best window is already closed. If worse comes to worst, I want to be able to say we went balls to the wall. Got me?"
The chief of police stood up. "I got you. Just don't put me in an untenable situation. We both know this is probably already over. If it turns out they're dead, don't make my department look bad."
"Jaime," Mackenzie said, "if it all goes to shit, I guarantee you that everyone will think you guys are heroes."
He eyed her for a long moment. "I'm not interested in being a hero… I just don't want to be a scapegoat."
Cordelia shuffled out of the guest room and yawned. "What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty." Matti's voice came from the kitchen. "Why are you up so early?"
Cordelia blinked. "We were on the field at seven-thirty." She traversed the living room, her gait still a little askew.
"Wow. Sounds rough." Matti carried a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon to the table.
"I told you the captain was a bitch." Cordelia stopped in the middle of the kitchen and looked around. "Do you have any rye bread left?"
"I think there's some in the cabinet over the toaster oven." Matti spoke around a mouthful of eggs. Cordelia reached into the specified cabinet and pulled out a bag with three slices of marble rye and the heel. "I didn't know you liked rye bread so much. I can get some more."
"Oh, I hate the stuff," Cordelia said, arranging the slices on the toaster oven's rack.
Matti put down her fork. "Then why do you make rye toast every morning?"
"So I don't eat too much of it." Cordelia looked as though the Knight's question was simple-minded.
Matti shook her head and took another more bite of her breakfast. "When I'm finished, I'll show you what I found last night." It only took a few minutes for the Knight to polish off her meal, rinse off the plate, and decamp to the bedroom. As Cordelia nibbled her toast, the teacher returned with several sheets of paper. "You ready to look at this?" Matti asked. Cordelia nodded.
"Okay." Matti placed the first printout on the table like a dealer flipping a card. "We know Trick's death date, so I searched for five years prior to that, which would have covered most of his career in finance. I found lots of pictures of him, dozens probably, but the ones I've printed here-" she put four or five sheets of paper on the oak "-all show him in the presence of the same young lady."
Cordelia nipped off the corner of a wedge of toast. "So, he had his picture taken with her. And?"
Matti tapped the photographs. "Oh, he had his picture taken with lots of ladies, but she's the one he's pictured with the most, and those photos are not evenly distributed. Most of them are from the last two years they were alive."
Cordelia's eyebrows drew together. "You said 'they'."
"Yes, I did. The young lady's name appears in a few captions, so I did an obit search and, voila!" Matti slapped down the last sheet of paper like it was a hole card. "Is that the young lady in the other pictures?"
Cordelia froze, her toast suspended in mid-air. "Yes."
"Look at the date." Matti tapped on the printout in case the cheerleader had trouble spotting it.
"That's… that's…"
"Uh-huh." The Knight nodded her head vigorously. "The date on her obituary is six months after Trick's." She spun the photo around to look at it right-side up. "I'd say this Delilah is definitely a person of interest."
Cordelia dropped her toast. "I've gotta clean up. Is it okay if I'm a little late to the pool today?"
"Sure. It's Monday, the rush won't come until after lunch. What are you doing?" Matti's head turned to follow the girl as she rushed out of the dining room.
"I have to call Buffy." Cordelia's voice came from the guest bedroom. "And then we have to go see someone."
"Buffy. Buffy."
The Slayer pried open her eyes. "Mom, why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?"
Joyce smiled wryly. "It's seven-thirty in the morning."
"See? Middle of the night." Buffy levered herself up on her elbows. "Are we under attack?"
"No," her mother replied. "You have a phone call from Cordelia."
Buffy groaned and flopped back on the mattress. "I thought you said we weren't under attack."
Joyce looked puzzled. "I thought you got along with her now."
Buffy sighed and threw back the covers. "It's complicated." She stumbled downstairs and took the phone from her mom. "Why are you calling at this hour?"
"I need you to go with me," Cordelia said on the other end. "I think I've id'ed the kidnapper."
"Wait, what?" Buffy shook her head to clear the cobwebs.
"How quick can you be ready?" Cordelia asked.
"I don't know… half an hour?"
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
There was a click, and the dial tone burred as the Slayer stared at the phone, stupefied.
"Don't sit there and tap your foot at me. I said it would take half an hour." Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs as she finished tying the hair ribbon. She had dressed quickly: hair in pigtails, plain forest-green T, green and yellow plaid shorts, and a pair of Teva sandals."
"Please, no blowage of smoke," Cordelia said. "I've played that card. 'I'll be there in half an hour', which turns into forty-five minutes, which turns into an hour, which turns into never." She looked at the sandals. "Are those new?"
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I got 'em at Road Runner."
Cordelia made an 'OK' face. "They look good."
"Thanks," the Slayer replied. "Now, did you haul me out of bed just to ask about my sandals?"
"No." Cordelia held up a sheet of paper. "I think I've found the kidnapper."
"You did?" Buffy said. "You?"
"Well, Matti may have done the actual finding, but she was working with what I uncovered.." Cordelia jerked her head toward the door. "Come on."
"Okay. Mom, we're going," Buffy shouted up the stairs.
Joyce's reply was faint. "Any idea when you'll be back?"
"Probably not too late, but you should take the car. Willow and I can walk anywhere we need to go."
"What are you two planning to do?" Cordelia asked as they jogged across the lawn.
"Since the mall is the last place they were seen, we thought we'd check it out."
"Oooooo," Cordelia said as they slid into the T-bird, "you're really not going to believe this."
"Hello?" The woman who answered the door was thin and tired-looking, too tired for the hour of the morning. "I'm not buying anything, so you can move along, I don't care if you're selling cookies to send handicapped kids to camp."
Buffy and Cordelia exchanged a glance. "We aren't selling anything," Cordelia said. "Is Casey here?"
The woman sighed and yelled over her shoulder. "Casey! Casey! It's for you." She turned and walked away, leaving the door open. The girls traded looks again.
They were standing on the concrete walkway that ran around the second story of an eight-unit apartment building near the intersection of Rogets and Sunset Ridge. It was about twenty-five years old and had been built very quickly: downspouts had started to pull away from the walls and the concrete underfoot was cracked.
"Yeah?" Casey appeared in the doorway and visibly blanched when she saw Cordelia. "What are… Why… you…" She looked over her shoulder, and when she turned back she was pale. She shuffled her bare feet and looked down at her clothing: a threadbare T-shirt and what looked like a pair of faded boxer shorts. When her head came up, Buffy noticed the watery look in her eyes.
"Hey, Casey?" the Slayer said. "We need to ask you to look at something. Would you mind coming out here?"
The slender girl looked relieved and stepped out onto the sidewalk, pulling the door closed behind her. "Uh, sure, I just, uh…" She squinted and bit her lip.
"Why are you acting so weird?" Cordelia said. She took the folded printout from her pocket. "Is this the woman you saw talking to the twins?"
Casey took the picture and looked at it, then handed it back. "Just a minute." She went back inside the apartment. The girls heard a sharp exclamation behind the closed door, then a more harried voice that was obviously Casey. Buffy and Cordelia swapped a third, more uncomfortable look, then the door opened and Casey stepped out, carrying the picture and a pencil. She went to the rusting railing and smoothed the printout over it and began shading with the pencil. She looked at it, pursed her lips, and shaded some more, then stepped back.
"Yeah," she said. "I think that's her. At first I wasn't sure, because her hair's really different now, but…" She tapped the point of the pencil on the paper.
"Thanks, thanks a lot." Buffy took the picture. She raised her eyebrows at Cordelia.
"Can I, um, can I ask a question?"
For the fourth time, the Slayer and the cheerleader looked at each other. "Sure," Cordelia said slowly.
"Well, it's two questions, really, um, first, why are you guys showing me this picture? I mean, isn't this the sort of the thing the police should be doing?"
"Yes," Cordelia said. "It is, we're just… the police…" Her eyes sparked. "We're going to give this to the police."
"And we wanted to be able to give them really solid information," Buffy said. "I'm sure they'll want to talk to you later."
Casey nodded, her long, dark hair drifting in the breeze. "Okay, yeah, I guess… then, why are you showing me a picture of a dead woman?"
Buffy looked down. For the first time, she noticed that the picture was over an obituary. She looked up, open-mouthed.
"She may have faked her own death," Cordelia said quickly. "We think she's probably a really shady character."
"Oh, uh, okay." Casey scratched her head. "I guess." She looked at Cordelia. "Was that any help?"
"So much help," Cordelia said, holding out both hands. "Oh, and where were they sitting?"
The tip of Casey's tongue peeked out as she stared into the middle distance. Her left hand ticked up and down as if she counted something. "They were on the left, like, five tables around, right beside the ramp." Casey flinched as her mother's voice came from inside the apartment. The words were indecipherable, but the tone was unmistakable. "I, uh, I need to go and get ready?" she said, pointing a hesitant thumb over her shoulder.
"Sure, sure," Buffy said. "Thanks again… have a nice day?" They went down the shaky metal stairs as Casey went back into the apartment. "Nice cover on the obituary thing," Buffy said as they got into the Thunderbird. "I probably would have gone with identical cousins." She pursed her lips as Cordelia stared through the windshield. "You okay?"
"What? Yes. Of course." The cheerleader turned the key.
Cordelia pulled into the Rosenberg's driveway, and Buffy got out, then leaned back inside the open door. "Where are you off to?"
The cheerleader sighed. "Guarding lives."
Buffy nodded. "Well, you did good work, Lacey."
"What?" Cordelia looked confused, then shocked. "Oh no, don't you dare compare me to that… that…"
"Cordelia, chill. That would make me Cagney, so-"
"I mean, I would accept Claire Danes in Mod Squad. I wouldn't like it, but I would accept it."
The Slayer rolled her eyes. "What I'm trying to say is, you did good."
"I know," Cordelia said. "I told you I'd found the kidnapper, didn't I?" She shook her head as she put the car in gear.
"So, what are we doing?" Willow asked as they entered the mall's food court entrance.
"We're going to get something to drink, because it's hot outside." Buffy swiped at her forehead with a hand. "And then, we're going to sit down as close as we can to the table where they were sitting and see what we see."
"How do you know where they were sitting?" Willow scratched her head, hesitating when her fingers reached the spot.
"Casey works at Hot Dog on a Stick. Cordelia talked to her last night and found out they were here and where they sat." Buffy looked around. "What do you want?"
Willow turned in a circle, noting all available options. "I think Haagen-Daz sounds good."
"Yeah, ice cream. Let's go." The food court was sparsely populated, and in a few minutes they had their ice cream: a strawberry sugar cone for Willow, a dish of fudge ripple for Buffy. There was no shortage of tables, which raised an interesting question.
"Should we sit at the actual table?" Willow asked.
Buffy carved off a small wedge of ice cream with her spoon and considered. "I don't think so," she finally said. "I want to see it, but I don't want to be in it. That make sense?"
"Sure." Willow tapped the back of a chair at the next table. "This okay?"
"Sure." They sat and ate ice cream and looked at the other table as though the twins would suddenly materialize and explain what happened. Buffy scraped her spoon at the sides of the cardboard dish. "Do you see?" she asked.
"I do," Willow said and licked her cone. The table area of the food court was sunk two steps lower than the main floor of the mall. An access ramp ended next to the table where they hadn't sat. Willow's eyes tracked up the ramp to the gray steel door set in the wall between the Sbarro's and the Snack'n'Go. "Should we take a look?"
Buffy shook her head and licked the spoon. "Be stupid not to." She looked around for a trash can and movement caught her eye. "Will, don't freak, but there are a lot of cops here."
Willow licked her ice cream and tried to be nonchalant while she checked out what was going on. "Yeah, I see, like, six of them. What do you think they're doing?"
The Slayer watched one pair of officers enter Limited Too and another couple go into the Gap. "I'd say they're seeing if anyone working today was in the mall yesterday, or if they have security cameras."
"What are we gonna do?" Willow murmured behind her cone.
"I'm going to throw this away, then we're gonna Lebowski this thing and just go through that door without a care in the world and see what's on the other side." Buffy swung out of her chair and dropped her empty cup in the trash. She noticed a slender, dark-haired man standing in the middle of the mall's main passage. He stood with his hands on his hips and seemed completely relaxed and totally attentive at the same time. The Slayer turned away and went up the ramp and through the steel door, Willow close behind. All of the mall's attempts at decor disappeared; the floor of the hall was covered in vinyl tile and the walls were painted a color between off-white and pale yellow. There were three doors in the right-hand wall and two in the left. All of the doors sported a simple plaque with the name of a store etched on it. At the far end was another gray door. Buffy stepped rapidly down the passage, her sandals slapping softly on the tile. She hit the push bar and stepped out into the late morning sun. The parking lot stretched out in front of them, acres of asphalt.
"It'd be perfect," Willow said. "Come out the door, have a car right here, zip, you're gone."
"Yeah." Buffy looked around. The sidewalk was separated from the building by a waist-high hedge. She tilted her head this way and that, studying the bushes, then reached out and plucked something from the branch.
"What is it?" Willow asked, slightly breathless.
Buffy raised her arm to eye height. Two long, pale strands swayed in the morning air. "Remember anybody with hair that color?" She dropped her hand.
"So, they were taken from here," Willow said. "That's-"
Both girls jumped as the door clacked behind them. The dark-haired man Buffy had noticed stepped outside, picked up a small stone from the landscaping around the base of the hedge, and inserted it at the base of the door jamb. He let the door swing closed; the stone prevented latching. As he straightened up to face the girls, Buffy took a closer look at him. He wasn't bad looking, but he was old, even older than Giles, or maybe he just looked that way, with the lines on his face and the threads of silver in his neat beard. He cast a cool, appraising glance over the girls, and something in his eyes made Buffy open her thumb and finger slightly and let the hairs fall to the sidewalk. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"What are you ladies doing out here?" he said.
Buffy half-turned and pointed to the parking lot behind her. "We were just leaving."
He gave a small nod. "This isn't the exit door."
"And yet, here we are." Buffy gave a big-eyes, 'oops' shrug. "Is it illegal to use that door?"
"No, but it's not common." He shifted and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
"That's because we're not the common type." Willow lifted her chin. "We're… we're wild girls, rebels… we don't play by other people's rules."
"Is that so?" He chuckled. "Well, then, I need to remember you two ruffians." He winked. "I'm the chief of police."
"Urp." Willow's eyes went saucer-sized. Jaime Arrabal turned and pulled the door open, kicking the rock out of the way.
"I wouldn't want to keep you ladies, especially if you were leaving." He raised his hand as though tipping an invisible hat. "Hope you enjoyed your ice cream."
