fumbled around for them in the plaster dust.
“M-my glasses,” he said.
CeeCee found them and picked them up, brushing them off as best she could before handing them back to him.
“Thanks.” Michael put the glasses on, and his eyes, behind the lenses, got very large as he took in the carnage around us. The puppet had missed him, but it had managed to take out a bench and a steel trash can without any problem whatsoever.
“Oh my God,” Michael said.
“I’ll say,” Adam said. “If it hadn’t been for Suze, you’d have been crushed to death by a giant plaster puppet head. Kind of a sucky way to die, huh?”
Michael continued to stare at the debris. “Oh my God,” he said again.
“Are you all right, Suze?” Gina asked, laying a hand on my arm.
I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. No broken bones, anyway. Michael? How about you? You still in one piece?”
“How would he be able to tell?” Dopey asked with a sneer, but I glared at him, and I guess he remembered how hard I can pull hair, since for once he shut up.
“I’m fine,” Michael said. He shoved away the hands Sleepy had stretched out to help him to his feet. “Leave me alone. I said I was fine.”
Sleepy backed up. “Whoa,” he said. “Excuse me. Just trying to help. Come on, G. Our shakes are melting.”
Wait a minute. I threw a startled glance in the direction of my best friend and eldest stepbrother.
G?
Who’s
G
?
CeeCee fished a bag out from underneath the waves of shiny purple and gold material. “Hey,” she said delightedly. “Is this the book you got for my mom?”
Sleepy, I saw, was walking back toward the food court, his arm around Gina.
Gina. My best friend!
My best friend appeared to be allowing my stepbrother to buy her shakes and put his arm around her! And call her G!
Michael had climbed to his feet. Some mall cops arrived just about then and went, “Hey, there, guy, take it easy. An ambulance is on its way.”
But Michael, with a violent motion, shrugged free of them, and, with a last, inscrutable look at the puppet head, stumbled away, the mall cops trailing after him, obviously concerned about the likelihood of a concussion…or a lawsuit.
“Wow,” CeeCee said, shaking her head. “That’s gratitude for you. You save the guy’s life, and he takes off without even a thank you.”
Adam said, “Yeah. How is it, Suze, that whenever something is about to come crashing down on some guy’s head, you always know it and tackle him? And how can I get something to crash down on my head so that you have to tackle me?”
CeeCee whacked him in the gut. Adam pretended it had hurt, and staggered around comically for a while before nearly tripping over the puppet, and then stopping to stare down at it.
“I wonder what caused it,” Adam said. Some mall employees were there now, wondering the same thing, with many nervous glances in my direction. If they’d known my mom was a television news journalist, they probably would have been falling all over themselves in an attempt to give me free gift certificates to Casual Corner and stuff.
“I mean, it’s kind of weird if you think about it,” Adam went on. “The thing was up there for weeks, and then all of a sudden Michael Meducci stands underneath it, and —”
“Bam,” CeeCee said. “Kind of like…I don’t know. Someone up there has got it out for him or something.”
Which reminded me. I looked around, thinking I might catch a glimpse of the owner of that giggle I’d heard, just before the puppet had come down on us.
I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t matter. I knew who’d been behind it.
And it sure hadn’t been any angel.
Chapter
Six
“Well,” Jesse said when I told him about it later that night. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said sullenly, my chin on my knees. “I have to tell her about that time I found that nudie magazine under the front seat of the Rambler. That oughta make her change her mind about
Margery Allingham
Kay Jaybee
Newt Gingrich, Pete Earley
Ben Winston
Tess Gerritsen
Carole Cummings
Cara Shores, Thomas O'Malley
Robert Stone
Paul Hellion
Alycia Linwood