Drawing Amanda (21 page)

“Couldn’t do it. Too much risk of it being found.”

“There’s no microphone?” Amanda’s voice was a mix of worry and anger.

“But, but . . .” Inky started.

“There would have to be a wire from the clip through Amanda’s hair and down her back,” Rungs said. “You need a transmitter on site, meaning on her body, to send the signal so we can hear and record what is going on. Think of what could happen if he found it.”

Color drained from Amanda’s face, and she shot a pleading glance at Inky. Inky was still stuck on the “if he found it” part.

“Also, if he had her putting on any kind of costume or props—like a cheerleader’s skirt or some slinky outfit, the fabric could’ve done the mic in. Total fail.”

“Dude, we have to hear what’s going on,” he said to Rungs. “What if he tries something?”

“Don’t say that,” Amanda said sharply, walking over to the window to glance at the gray late-fall sky outside.

“We do have to be able to hear what’s going on, and you said we have to make a tape,” Inky said.

Rungs held up an ordinary looking cell phone. “Check this out.”

“What’s so great about that? It doesn’t even look like a new smartphone.” Inky said, rolling his eyes in Amanda’s direction. She chewed on the side of her lip. “If we can’t hear what’s going on, we don’t have a leg to stand on,” Inky said.

“What? Where are you standing?” Amanda asked.

When this is over, I’m going to have to school her in American English, Inky thought. “Rungs was just getting around to telling us,” he said.

“Check it,” Rungs said, undaunted by Inky’s cut. He handed Amanda the phone that looked like the standard issue freebie. “I found this baby in my dad’s bag of tricks.”

Amanda looked at him skeptically and did not take the phone from him. “Thanks, but I brought mine. It’s the newest iPhone.”

“So you think this is just some phone? It can dial out and receive calls like any other mobile phone,” Rungs said. “And to look at it, you wouldn’t think it could do much more.”

“Got that right,” Inky said.

Amanda looked at Rungs hopefully.

“This phone is actually a powerful personal detective tool. An infinity transmitter. It has built-in super sensitive microphones. You can hear any sound in the vicinity of the phone once you activate the special program. There’s no range limit, and no danger of being discovered, like with wires on your body.

“How do you turn on the program?” Inky asked.

“Just a couple of text messages. There’s no change on the display, nothing to indicate that it’s transmitting what’s going on. And from the receiver in the car, we’ll be able to hear it all clearly and tape it to use as evidence.”

Amanda held her hand out for the phone, which Rungs passed to her. “Feel better?” he asked. She smiled and nodded yes.

“You do need to have your bag as close as possible to you at all times,” Rungs said.

“It’s cool for you to use it?” Inky asked.

“Consider it field testing. One of my chores—all my dad’s equipment has to be checked once a month anyway. They don’t want to have an agent in the field with a device filled with dust kittens.”

Inky looked over to Amanda. “I know, they’re not real cats,” she said.

They heard a ring from Amanda’s purse. Inky looked over at Rungs, thinking this was more of his preparation. Amanda must have thought that, too. She picked up the spy phone. Nothing happened.

“Hey,” she said. The phone continued to ring.

“Hey, what,” Rungs said. “Answer your iPhone.”

Amanda stuck her tongue out at him as she picked up her phone.

“It’s Hawk,” Amanda said. “I’ll go meet her downstairs.”

* * *

“You’re flying solo?” Hawk said, getting out of the long black sedan. Amanda bristled at her tone of voice.

“Inky and Rungs are packing up the recorder and receiver. They’ll be down in a second,” Amanda said. She put her index finger in her mouth and chewed on a hangnail.

“Nervous, huh?”

“I’m OK.” She looked at the purple strand of hair hanging below her chin and wrapped it around her finger.

Hawk pointed at her finger. “Don’t cut off your circulation.”

“You’re not helping. Why are you doing this?” Amanda said.

“I am helping,” Hawk said, “if I may remind you. Who arranged the car and driver for you?”

Amanda felt the color drain from her face. She didn’t want to say anything that could jeopardize their arrangements. She tried to push back the anger she was feeling. Was Hawk trying to get her to back out or something? Amanda smiled as sweetly as her rising anger would allow.

“I’m just helping ’cause I figure I owe you—I never thought you’d say that shit. It was
epic
. No one feels sorry for Ellen, you know.”

Amanda found this news comforting. Maybe she wasn’t going to be such a pariah after all.

“But why are you doing
this
?” Hawk asked. “Inky needs all the friends he can get. You don’t have to do something crazy for him.”

Amanda glared at Hawk.

“Well? You’re the one who could get hurt.”

“Oh, Hawk. Don’t scare me any more than I’m already scared, OK?” Amanda touched Hawk’s shoulder. “Remember when you asked me if I’d ever done anything brave? Well, this is it. I know I’m taking a big risk, but I’m doing something that matters. I’m being brave because some other girl may not be.”

Amanda turned around to see Inky and Rungs coming out of the building. “And because I have friends who help me be brave,” she added.

Hawk fumbled with the buttons of her burlap “Feed” bag, then pulled out her phone. For a second Amanda was afraid she’d call the driver or her father or someone and call it all off because she mouthed off.

“You included,” she said to Hawk.

“Take my phone. My dad’s name and bank show up on caller ID. You won’t believe the response ‘World One Bank, President’ will get if you have to call the police or something.”

How ironic, Amanda thought. Two weeks ago I had no phone at all. Now I have three.

“Trade,” Amanda said, handing Hawk her phone. The only people she wanted to talk to were already with her.

* * *

The four of them were squeezed together in the back of the car, their individual space even more limited because the receiver hung over Rungs’s lap and took up room on the seat. He fiddled with the settings.

“Yeah, baby, WTG,” Rungs said softly, looking with satisfaction at the blue light on the receiver. “Way to go.” He patted the top of the machine.

Hawk glanced over at the equipment, and Inky saw her longing. She wanted to be part of this, but she wasn’t going to bail on her group of kids in need. Respect
,
he thought as he met her gaze and quickly looked away.

It was uncomfortably silent in the back of the car. Inky stared at the broad shoulders of the driver through the plexiglass divider, his thick neck and shaven head suggesting power. He took advantage of the tight seating and leaned into Amanda on his left and pointed to Central Park in front of them as they drove crosstown.

“Wouldn’t have thought you had this in you,” Hawk said to Inky. He was grateful for the break in the silence. He took her words as an apology.

“Things are not always what they seem—that’s for sure. People do what they have to do,” Inky said, forging a truce.

Hawk nodded and smiled. “I hear you, Artboy.”

“Here you go, Miss Helen,” the driver said, pulling up to a building next to Roosevelt Hospital. Suddenly Inky was tense. How much time would they have? How long could her session be? But apparently Hawk had already thought of this.

“I’m going to do some shopping and stuff after, Ivan,” Hawk said to the driver. “Please stay with my friends.”

Rungs looked up from his receiver. “Thanks, Hawk.”

She hugged Amanda, and said, “Good luck. And call me.” Inky thought he saw Amanda giggle, which puzzled him. Hawk got out of the car and started to walk away. Then she turned and tapped on the driver’s window. He lowered it, letting in a cold blast of air. “Whatever they need, Ivan, no matter what.”

* * *

As they drove toward Megaland Studios, Amanda spread out a bit but shivered into Inky.

Inky watched the Hell’s Kitchen streets through the partially opened window. “We’re just about there,” he said. Amanda took Rungs’s phone out of her purse and checked the time. Inky looked at the display. Ten minutes until she was due at Woody’s, and they were just a couple of blocks away.

“Let’s test the phone again,” Inky said to Rungs.

“You’re going to keep that near you at all times,” Inky said. He thought that Amanda could hear the worry in his voice.

Rungs sent a text message to the phone in Amanda’s hand. Inky looked at a string of gibberish on the tiny display.

“Hit OK,” Rungs said to Amanda.

Amanda complied. Inky looked at her wrist, the lovely curve between her forearm and hand, and the spot where the little round bone protruded and made an elegant slope. His fingers itched for a pencil. He shook his head to keep his focus. He would remember this. He touched her lightly on the arm. She didn’t pull away.

“Now don’t do anything,” Rungs said. Inky felt his cheeks burn even though the words were meant for Amanda. He thought his friend could tell he had other things on his mind. He looked at the phone in Amanda’s hand. For a barely discernible second the lights behind the phone’s keypad illuminated, then went off.

“OK, you’re set,” Rungs said.

Then Amanda handed Hawk’s phone to Rungs. “Use this when you call the police,” she said. Inky looked at her, then over to Rungs. “Hawk’s . . .”

“Brilliant,” Rungs said. “Her father’s caller ID.” Inky could see Rungs refining their plan to include this.

“Don’t accept any food or anything to drink,” Rungs said to Amanda. His voice was picked up by the phone in Amanda’s hand and fed back through the receiver. First there was a high-pitched sound, then Rungs twisted a knob and the screech stopped. Rungs’s voice was doubled, with a slight delay, giving it an impactful echo.

“Nothing. He may try to drug you.”

Inky shuddered at Rungs’s words. He sensed that Amanda did, too. “You can still back out,” Inky said to Amanda.

“Don’t tempt me,” she said.

Chapter 35

So This Is It

T
HE CAR TURNED DOWN WOODY’S STREET
. On the left was a low row of brick buildings. There was a rusted sign for AAAuto. Another shop offered floor tiles. Above it, a woman in a floral dress was shaking out a rug from a fire escape. Inky spotted what looked to be a factory building next to a building with boarded-up bay windows. There was no sign, but there was a flagpole holder where the Megaland Studios banner they’d seen in the online pictures must have hung. It looked dumpier than the old promo pictures they’d found online.

“This is where we want to go, but could you go around the block and park by the car repair place?” Rungs said to the driver.

The driver circled the block. This was the block that Inky would walk down later to deliver the artwork to Woody, setting the end of the plan in motion. The thought was like a puddle of colors swirling together on a palette, muddy and confused. If he felt this way, what must Amanda be feeling? Inky took Amanda’s hand and squeezed it as the driver idled the car.

Rungs gave his final set of instructions. “Remember everything we went over. Don’t let him back you into a corner. Know where the door is. If you say ‘emergency’ your phone is programmed to dial the police. We’ll hear everything that’s going on. It’ll be like we’re there with you.”

“You’re about as comforting as soap in a rainstorm,” Inky said. He wanted the floorboards to swallow him up. Why did he say something so stupid?

Amanda looked at him, shook her head and giggled in spite of herself. “Soap in a . . . that’s just strange.”

“I know, right. But I got you to smile,” Inky said, leaning closer to Amanda. Her skin was a vanilla crème color, so inviting. Inky touched her cheek. He leaned in towards her and could feel her closeness. Her lips were a perfect strawberry red, with a little spot in the corner slightly swollen where she’d been biting it.

“Be sure to speak up,” Rungs said. “Let him think you’re a loud talker. We want to be sure to hear you.”

Inky was still precariously close to Amanda. He should let her listen to Rungs’s advice, he knew, but he couldn’t move away. And she wasn’t pulling away either. She was looking at him so intently he felt like she was drawing him closer with her eyes, as if there were a magnet in them.

Be brave, Inky told himself. That’s what today’s all about. He leaned in some more and kissed Amanda on the lips. It was more than a quick peck. His lips lingered before they opened slightly and he pulled his head back.

He saw a look of surprise in her eyes. It must have mirrored his own. He’d just kissed Amanda. Kissed Amanda, here in the car, in front of Rungs. Ugh. His friend would have something to say about that.

He’d thought so much about this day, going over every possible detail in his mind, night after sleepless night. But he hadn’t imagined that this would be the day he’d kiss Amanda. He hadn’t allowed himself to think that he’d kiss her at all. A sea of neon colors swirled in his head. He could still feel the warmth of her lips on his. Amanda smiled a smile that said she was surprised, in a good way.

“Ahem. Ahem,” Rungs said. “Hate to interrupt, but it’s time.”

Inky felt the blood rush to his cheeks, but he didn’t really mind the embarrassment. He had kissed Amanda. His legs felt jumpy, like he’d eaten too much sugar.

“You OK?” Inky asked Amanda.

She nodded. “You?”

He squeezed her hand as an answer. He wanted to hold on to it. He wanted to say, “Don’t go.”

She looked over at Rungs as she opened the car door. “We’ve got your back,” he said.

Inky watched her get out on the traffic side. “Careful, the traffic.”

Amanda laughed. There were no cars coming down the street.

“We’ll be listening,” Inky said, “and I’ll be there soon.” Inky took a deep breath as the door closed. He wanted to run out and get her.

From the sidewalk Amanda turned and looked into the car. “Wave if you can hear me,” she said. Rungs raised his hand. She made a thumbs-up gesture as she approached Megaland Studios.