Payback by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online Page B

shrug. “No.”
    “Does your mom?”
    “I’m sure she must.” Now I frown as I remember something.
    “What is it?” she asks.
    “I don’t know…I just thought of something…It’s probably not even related.” I sigh, then shake my head. “It’s weird getting these messages from God and trying to figure out how they all fit together.”
    “Like a puzzle?”
    “Exactly.”
    “That’s what solving crime is all about, Samantha. We take lots of pieces. Some fit. Some don’t. We keep trying to put them together until we can see the big picture. You’re lucky, or I should say blessed, that God actually helps you with some of the pieces.”
    “Sometimes it doesn’t feel all that helpful.”
    She smiles. “Yes, I can understand that.” She picks up her pen again. “Now, anything else you can tell me about Mr. Steven Lowery? Do you know how old he is?”
    “I’m not positive, but I do know Mom’s about ten years older than him.”
    Her arched eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.
    “I’m guessing he’s in his early thirties.”
    “Well, that’s a start anyway. And physical description? Hair color, eyes, height? And what kind of car does he drive? You don’t happen to know his license-plate number, do you?”
    I describe him as a young and less good-looking James Brolin. “Only his hair is lighter, but I think he gets it lightened,” I tell her. “Kind of a Hollywood sort of look.” Then I describe his car. “But I don’t know his license-plate number. I could probably nab it the next time he’s over.”
    “Great. I should have something on him in a couple of days.”
    At this point I come very close to telling Ebony about my mom’s messed-up bank account. But I know that sounds pretty suspicious and accusatory. Besides, Mom said she’d check with the bank today. For all I know, the whole thing may be all squared away by now. Plus I’m sure Mom wouldn’t be too thrilled about her private business becoming public knowledge. So I change the subject and tell Ebony about my scouting mission yesterday to the next prom site—the one with no marble floors. “It’s not the hotel in my dream,” I say finally. “At least I don’t think so.”
    “Well, that’s one we can take off the hit list.” She makes note of this, then looks curiously at me. “Any more clues about that kid being bullied?”
    “No, but I’m really praying for him. And I feel more certain than ever that he was the guy I saw in the shoe store on Saturday.”
    “I don’t want to worry you,” she says slowly, “especially with so much else on your mind. But I read a sad statistic just the other day…”
    “About what?”
    “About kids who are the victims of bullies.”
    “And?”
    “It seems they are at serious risk. Being bullied was listed as the number one cause of suicide among teens.”
    I nod as I remember Garrett now, how depressed he’d been just a few months ago, how he’d even considered killing himself…mostly because his dad had bullied him. Yeah, I can believe that.”
    “I’ll be praying for this kid too,” she assures me.
    “I just don’t understand why God would’ve shown me that vision if we weren’t going to be able to help him somehow. Don’t you agree?”
    She nods. “I do.”
    “Well, I’ll let you get to your work,” I say.
    “And I’ll let you get to yours.” She hands me another yearbook. This one is for McKinley High.
    Once again the plan is for me to spend a couple of hours carefully going through it to see if I can spot the pretty blonde or the guy who will be her date. And like before, I do my best.
    But by the time I drive home, I feel slightly overwhelmed again. After two hours of carefully studying that yearbook, I didn’t see one girl that I could be certain was the blonde in my dream. Eric even took the time to explain certain tricks to identifying people by their photographs. And I did manage to find a couple of girls who might be the one in the