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  "I'll meet you there," he told them. They started to protest, surprised that there could be anything more important than rushing down to the police station. But they didn't know about the poster, and he couldn't tell them. Even if he did, they wouldn't understand. "Trust me, there's something I have to check on. It's important." They asked for an explanation, but he refused to give one. Finally they let him go.

  In a few minutes the bell rang, ending the lunch period. Pam left with Carrie, and Keith went off on his own.

  Minutes later, Keith arrived at the mall in search of Mel. He had to tell him what had happened. Mel would have to take him seriously now. And they had to work together to figure out what to do with the poster. But when Keith arrived at the Virtu-Illusions pushcart, Mel was not there. Instead, he found a perky female college student tending the cash register.

  "Excuse me," he said, out of breath from rushing. "Is Mel coming in today?"

  "The scary guy with the dark circles under his eyes?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. Keith nodded. "He got fired. Never came in to work this morning. And the owners said he was stealing money, too."

  "Damn!" Keith swore, stomping the ground in frustration.

  "Tell me about it," whined the new cashier. "I have to pull a double shift now."

  "Do you know how I can reach him?" he asked.

  "Nope," she told him. "His phone has been disconnected. No forwarding number. The owners are looking for him. He's in big trouble."

  Keith stood quietly for a moment, fighting the urge to yell. He tried to think of what to do. Nothing came to him. His shoulders sagged in resignation. He had no way of finding Mel, and Mel had no way of contacting him. And under the circumstances, Mel might have skipped town.

  Keith thanked the cashier and returned to his car. He drove straight to the police station.

  Pam and Carrie ran to him as soon as he arrived. They told him that the police had been talking to Mario for almost an hour. Pam's father had promised to find a lawyer, but no one had arrived yet. While they filled him in, Keith noticed Mario's aunt sitting on a nearby bench. She stared straight ahead. At the sound of Keith's voice, she turned toward him. Her expression was one of anger and disillusionment, but it didn't seem to be directed toward him. After acknowledging his presence with a slight nod, she went back to staring straight ahead. Keith went over to her.

  "Mrs. Vasquez?" he asked.

  She looked up at him solemnly. "Mario's father will be very disappointed," she said.

  "He didn't do anything, Mrs. Vasquez," Keith told her.

  "I meant, he will be disappointed with me. Mario's father never had any illusions about his son. It was I who thought things would be better if he came to Springwood. But Mario has not changed." She shook her head, deeply ashamed.

  "Mario's a good guy, Mrs. Vasquez," he told her reassuringly. "He hasn't done anything wrong." With that, Mario's aunt fixed Keith with an icy stare.

  "Of course he has," she told him harshly. "Why do you think they've held him for so long? No doubt they discovered that Mario is a criminal." She paused, letting the information sink in. "If I had not begged his father to send him to me, Mario would have been in jail long ago. For murder."

  "What do you mean, Mrs. Vasquez?" Carrie asked, stunned at the revelation. "Mario has a temper, but he'd never kill anyone."

  Mrs. Vasquez shook her head slowly. Then she said, "But, dear, he already has."

  Nobody could speak. Mrs. Vasquez's eyes were dead. She was serious, utterly serious.

  A door opened before anyone could say another word. Two policemen escorted Mario out to the waiting area. His face was gray with fear.

  "Mrs. Vasquez? Thank you for coming down. We're sorry for the inconvenience." The officers stopped, allowing Mario to walk forward. His three friends immediately surrounded him. Carrie gave him a hug. Mrs. Vasquez stood, but did not go to her nephew. Instead, she turned toward the policeman who had addressed her.

  "Will you need to see him again?" she asked quietly.

  "Hard to say at this point. He's not in any trouble. Let me make that clear. But we may need to speak to him again." He seemed sincere. Keith glanced at Mrs. Vasquez to see if the news affected her. It did not. Her expression remained grave.

  "He will be available," Mrs. Vasquez told the officer. "Come with me, Mario." He went to her side without a word. She turned and started out the door. Mario quickly mouthed the words Call me. The other three teenagers nodded, then watched Mario fall into step next to his aunt.

  "What was that all about?" asked Pam.

  "I don't know," Carrie said, "but I just don't buy that Mario is a murderer."

  "Me neither," agreed Pam.

  Keith nodded his head and hoped the others would accept that as agreement on his part. But in truth, he wasn't sure. Something terrible had happened in Mario's past. He could tell by Mrs. Vasquez's eyes. And by the way Mario wouldn't talk about his life before Springwood. But the poster had shown him Skrag's death before it had happened. And before that, his nightmare had shown him a violently out-of-control Mario. Could his dream be as accurate as his vision in the poster? He hoped not, but he really didn't know what to believe.

  Chapter 9

  Keith was exhausted by the time he returned home that afternoon. The general stress he had been under, coupled with the day's excitement, had worn him out. His head ached, so he went up to his room, took a couple of Tylenol, and lay down for a nap. Less than an hour later, the phone rang, waking him up.

  "Yeah?" he asked groggily.

  "Hi, Keith. It's Carrie."

  He sat up, instantly awake. "Is something wrong?" "No," she said quickly. "No, not really. I was just wondering if you'd come over."

  "Sure," he replied suspiciously. "What's up?"

  "I know how this is going to sound, but I need you to look at my car." She spoke quickly, before he could interrupt. Then she started to cry. "I barely made it home from the police station. I'm sorry. I feel so weird calling you. But my car's dead, and you're the only one I can call now." Her voice hitched and she became frantic. "I'm stuck at home, I need someone to talk to, but Mario's aunt isn't letting him on the phone. This is driving me crazy."

  "I'll be right over," he said when the tears finally overcame her.

  Keith hurried over to her house. When he pulled into her driveway, he saw Carrie at the front door, waiting.

  "I feel so terrible about this…" she began as he approached, but he wouldn't let her finish.

  "Don't think about it. Now, tell me what the car's doing."

  She breathed deeply, resolving not to cry. "It started making this hissing noise, and now it won't idle," she told him. "It stalls at almost every stoplight."

  Keith asked her to start the car while he looked under the hood. It didn't take him long to discover that leaking oil had rotted some tubing leading to the carburetor. After Carrie turned off the engine, he cut out the bad section of tubing and temporarily patched the connection.

  "We'll have to go down to the auto parts store to get new tubing, but it doesn't have to be done immediately," he said. Keith could tell there was much more on her mind than her car. He wouldn't rush her, though. That never worked with Carrie. She watched him as he put his tools away.

  "How did you learn about cars?" she finally asked.

  "Taught myself," he replied.

  "Why?"

  "Because I had no one to teach me." He closed the lid of the toolbox. "Cars were something I grew up thinking a kid learned from his father. Well, when I realized that wasn't going to happen, I decided to figure it out for myself."

  "That's amazing." She seemed truly impressed.

  Keith just shrugged. "I think I'd be better at it if I had learned from someone who knew. Like my father. But I guess I do okay."

  "Not every guy knows how to fix cars," she told him. "Mario couldn't have done that."

  "Yeah, well, people learn different things," he replied. "Mario doesn't talk about his father much, but I bet he taught hi
m something."

  "What makes you think your father would have taught you about cars?" Carrie asked.

  Keith shrugged again. "I don't know what I would have learned from my father. That's why I've taught myself so many different things. I guess I've been hoping to stumble upon my one true talent. So far, I haven't found it. I'm a consistent runner-up, still looking for the blue ribbon." Now he was embarrassed. This issue had never come up while they were dating. "Do you think I'm fooling myself, using the fact I was raised without a father as an excuse for being mediocre?"

  "But you're not mediocre," she gently insisted. "How many people can do half the things you can do?"

  "Not many, but there's always someone who's better than me. Like Skrag with cars, Mario at wrestling. Heck, Pam's a better athlete than I am. Even Sandra. She blows me away academically."

  "What about me?" Carrie asked. "How am I better than you?"

  Keith was embarrassed to say. "You're just more… uh…" He began to stutter, then stopped talking and steadied himself. "You're just more… wonderful."

  "What a sweet thing to say," Carrie said, moved by his sincerity.

  Keith laughed nervously. "Of course, that means I think I'm okay myself. Pretty shallow of me, huh?"

  "You're not shallow, Keith," she declared. "Insecure sometimes, sensitive, and definitely thin-skinned, but not shallow. And not mediocre." Then she became very serious. "And you are wonderful. I don't know what I would have done this afternoon if you hadn't come over. Whatever's happened in the past, you're very important to me. And I'm not the only one who feels that way. Mario feels it, and I'm sure Pam does, too. You've brought us all together, Keith."

  He almost choked at the thought of himself bringing them together — her and Mario.

  Carrie noticed the look on his face and seemed to read his mind. "You know what I mean. Regardless of who's dating whom, you'll be the one holding our group together." She waited for him to reply. But all he could do was stand there and blush. Carrie changed the subject.

  "Now, what makes you think Mario killed Skrag?" she asked bluntly. The question hit him like a body blow.

  "I never…" he began to protest.

  "No, you never did say that," she interrupted. "But you've been acting strange, like you've been hiding something. And rushing off like you did today. Do you know something about it?"

  Keith was suddenly on guard. He was not prepared to tell her about the poster.

  "I don't know anything," he told her. "It's been a weird day. I mean, we're talking about Mario killing someone. Isn't that enough to make any of us act strange?"

  Carrie didn't answer him immediately. That was when Keith realized she wasn't really discussing his doubts about Mario, but her own.

  "What do you think?" he asked her carefully.

  She looked away, then took another deep breath. "Mario's been acting strange, too," she finally said. "For the last couple weeks. He's not been home when he's usually home. He's been secretive. And he's been getting angry very easily. I've been ignoring it, hoping it would go away. Then the fight with Skrag, who ends up dead." Carrie searched Keith's face for an explanation.

  "Do you think he did it?"

  "That's just it. I don't know. He's focused a lot of anger on Skrag lately. Maybe he got involved with Skrag somehow…"

  "Mario and Skrag doing business?" he asked, interrupting her. "He always said Skrag reminded him of punks from his old neighborhood."

  "You saw Mario's aunt at the station. She wasn't surprised. Hell, she said he had killed someone before. Maybe he had a — I don't know — a relapse or something. Besides," she said quietly, "can't you tell he has it in him? I can."

  So Mario's demons had been evident to Carrie as well. Keith didn't reply. Carrie was looking to him for support, but it was hard to be the rock when he felt like crumbling himself.

  "Carrie," he said, "this has been a tough day for all of us, but most of all for Mario. Maybe we should give it a rest, and give him a chance. Best friends don't turn around and suddenly become murderers. Mario's my best friend. And if you're dating him, he should be your best friend."

  "You're right, I know," she told him. "I haven't talked to anyone about this. Who could I talk to but you? This is so confusing… especially with the way he's been acting."

  "Maybe he's going through something he hasn't mentioned yet. But it doesn't mean he killed Skrag." He approached Carrie to give her a hug. "I have to get home for dinner. My mom still doesn't know about my hand, and I should tell her before the insurance bill comes in."

  She hugged him long and then kissed his cheek. "I'll call you tonight," Keith said.

  "Thanks for fixing everything," she told him, and he left.

  * * *

  Keith's mother was home making dinner when he returned. She saw the brace on his hand and dropped the spatula she was holding. Her reaction was similar to what Keith would have expected if his hand had been amputated. It was a good thing she couldn't tell his ribs were bruised.

  But fussing made his mother feel better, so he didn't complain. Overreacting soothed her guilt for not being around more often. During dinner, he told her about Skrag's murder. Her only comment was, "Wasn't he the drag dealer?"

  Keith's phone rang while he was in the middle of doing dishes. At first he didn't recognize the voice whispering on the other end of the line.

  "It's me," the voice repeated. "Mario."

  "Hey, what's…"

  "I can't talk long," Mario interrupted. "My aunt's in the bathroom right now. She's not letting me out of her sight tonight, dude. The police were actually pretty cool, but my aunt thinks I'm in trouble."

  "Are you?" Keith asked. Mario should have jumped down his throat at the question. Instead, Keith thought he hesitated slightly.

  "No — at least I didn't kill anyone, no matter what she told you." He was pleading for Keith to believe him. Then Keith heard a toilet flush in the background. Mario gasped and swore. "I'm outta here, dude. She's letting me go to school tomorrow and I'll tell you all about it then."

  "All right, call me if…"

  "I'll be okay," Mario said hurriedly, and the line went dead.

  After his conversation with Mario, Keith went up to his room. As soon as he entered, he could feel "Mysteria's" presence. It had been waiting for him. He spun quickly to leave, but found himself rooted in place. His eyes were drawn to the picture. Involuntarily his vision blurred. His head began to pound slowly. He tried tearing himself away, but the power of «Mysteria» held him fast. The dots swirled and an image formed. Another face. A new one. This time he saw a woman. By the wrinkles in her face, Keith guessed she was in her eighties, at least. Her eyes were closed in what appeared to be sleep. Her mouth was drawn down at the corners, as if she were experiencing a nightmare.

  Then the main force of the headache hit without warning. It violently severed his connection with the poster, and he fell back onto his bed. Lying there, Keith barely had the strength to move. Forcing himself to stand, he stumbled to the bathroom and downed three Tylenol to fight the pain. Through the tangle of his thoughts, one broke free. He had to find Mel. But for now, he couldn't even see straight, so he made it back to his bed and willed himself unconscious so the pain relievers could go to work.

  * * *

  The sun had set by the time Keith awoke. His head still ached, but he could function. In the dim light, Keith noticed the light on his answering machine blinking. He'd been out cold and had slept through the ringing of his phone. He pressed the play button. After a lengthy rewind, the tape reversed and began to play. A female voice rose from the speaker.

  "Keith, it's Sandra." She sounded exhausted and upset. "I… I need to talk to you. It's about Mario. I think he killed Skrag." She broke down entirely. "The police don't believe me. No one believes me. I don't know why you would. But at least you'll listen to me. Won't you? Because I know why he did it. It has to do with you." At this point, she seemed to get ahold of herself. "Meet me at the school ton
ight at eight-thirty. In the front, by the sign. You know Mario. Maybe you can convince me I'm wrong. I just feel like I'm going crazy. I'll be there at eight-thirty. If I don't hear from you before then, or you don't show up, I'll call again. Please come. Please?" He could hear the sobs beginning again as she hung up.

  Keith looked at the clock. It was 8:10. He didn't know Sandra's number off the top of his head. Instead of wasting time, he recorded a new outgoing message on the answering machine.

  "This is Keith. Sandra, if this is you and you're at the school, stay there. I'm coming. Otherwise, please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." He pressed stop, rewound the tape, and played it back again to make sure he could be understood. As he was leaving his room, the phone rang. He ran back and answered it.

  "Sandra?" There was only the sound of street traffic. "Hello?"

  A tentative male voice said, "Uh, hello, is, uh, Keith there?"

  "Yeah, this is me."

  "Hey man, it's Mel. Heard about your friend Skrag," he said. "We gotta talk."

  "I know. I was looking for you at the mall today," Keith told him. "And I saw another face tonight."

  "Another one?" Keith was alarmed by Mel's eager excitement. "Then we definitely gotta get together. I got some info for you on the poster."

  Keith instantly let Mel's odd reaction slide. Information on the poster was what he wanted. But Sandra was waiting for him, so he couldn't talk.

  "Can I call you back?" he asked hurriedly. "I have to go out to meet a friend right now."

  "I'm at a pay phone." Keith remembered that Mel's phone had been disconnected. "If you're going to be out and around, why don't you stop by later? I'm not doing anything. If," he added suspiciously, "you promise not to tip anyone off to where I live."

  "Look, I don't care what you did," he said, frustration growing. He didn't want to be late for Sandra. "But I gotta run. Call back in a few minutes and leave me your address and directions on my machine. I'll check in after I meet my friend and come right over."