The Photographer II Page 8

  “Okay, I’ll wait for you outside the whole time. I don’t think Altman would welcome me at the session, too.”

  “I’m not letting one more girl go to have a photo taken by herself. If I can’t go, another senior woman will. I’m going to organize this.”

  “What are you going to tell them—the girls? What if they don’t want company, or what if Altman refuses to take photos with an audience?”

  “I don’t have to tell them anything. I’ll just convince every girl in the school, if I have to, that not one of them goes anyplace alone. Surely there’s still some safety in numbers.”

  “With this morning’s headlines, I don’t think any girl will argue with you, Vicki.” Scott pulled her into his arms, and she felt herself relaxing a little. She felt her anger cooling for the moment. Just to have a plan helped.

  Davita argued with Vicki a little. “There’s no reason for you to go with me tonight, Vicki. I had my photo made once. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “SueAnne and Belle and Goldie would have said the same thing, Davita. I’d have said the same thing, too, a few months ago.”

  “Well, I don’t know who’s doing this, Vicki, but that sweet David Altman is certainly harmless. Listen, wait outside for me. Go over there with me, and then wait for me. I don’t think he’s going to want you watching him work.”

  “I don’t care what he says, I’m going to watch.” Vicki would have settled for going with Davita, waiting outside for her. But she wanted to spend more time with Altman, to see what her feelings were when he wasn’t taking her photo. She wanted to see how he treated Davita. She had certainly had a better experience than Vicki. There was no way Vicki would go back and have another picture made.

  Both of them were right. Altman questioned Vicki’s being with Davita.

  “Did you have a question about your photos, Miss Valentine?” he said.

  “No, I came with Davita. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Altman, but the senior girls made a pact today at school. We aren’t going anyplace alone for a while. I’m sure you understand why, given what’s happened in Sparksville.” She made her voice firm and businesslike.

  “That seems like a sensible plan. You can wait out here. I work better without anyone watching. I don’t even let parents watch me.” He smiled at Davita, flirting a bit. “I like to concentrate on bringing out the best in a subject.”

  “My mama loved my senior pictures, Mr. Altman.” Davita flashed her million-dollar smile. “She insisted I get a Christmas photo made. You know how mothers are.”

  “I certainly do. Helps my business a lot.” He pulled aside the curtain to the studio. “You brought your new dress?”

  “Right here. Wait till you see it.” Davita held out a dress bag. A glittering silver material showed at the bottom.

  “Then call me when you’re ready.” Altman disappeared.

  “Isn’t he sweet?” Davita cooed. “I just can’t believe we’re so lucky to have him settle in our little old town.”

  Vicki pretended she was going to go along with what Altman wanted, that she was going to sit out here in the waiting room during the session. When she was sure Davita had changed and they were working, she slipped through the curtains quietly and leaned against the wall in the back of the studio.

  Davita’s dress was a knockout. It must have cost a fortune and hours of time in Little Rock to discover something so simple but so elegant. Much too seductive for Vicki’s taste, but she had to admit it suited Davita perfectly.

  The top fitted her like molded silver, and the silver material was covered with glittery chips that caught the light. Vicki was reminded of fantasy illustrations of mermaids, their upper bodies encased in topless emerald glitter. Nothing was left to the imagination. Creamy shoulders hadn’t been darkened by Arkansas’s summer sun. Davita had to be one of the few real Southern ladies left, those who went outside covered up to keep a pale ivory complexion.

  The dress had just enough material to enhance cleavage without seeming vulgar. And Davita filled it well. A fleeting moment of envy hit Vicki, then made her smile. That’s not your style, Vicki, a little voice said. Yes, but no female could complain if it was.

  The dress was fitted past the hips, then flared into a chiffon skirt, dotted with the same glittery chips, like bits of ice that shimmered, even in the soft light of the studio lamps. The whole outfit was similar to the dresses that flamenco dancers wore, although Vicki always pictured those in red or black.

  Altman had posed Davita on a raised dais, sitting sideways at the moment, her face turned back coquettishly, flirting with the camera.

  “I asked you not to bother us.” Altman knew Vicki was there without looking at her.

  “I got bored.” Vicki lied easily. “I won’t make a sound or distract you one bit.”

  Altman turned then, staring at her. There was anger in his eyes, and another expression on his face that seemed to Vicki to be pure hatred. He really didn’t want her there. That was obvious. She shivered without meaning to. She wasn’t used to someone actively disliking her. It didn’t feel good.

  He resumed snapping pictures, his voice directing Davita. With two cameras mounted he moved from one to another time after time. His voice was soft, seductive, coaxing a smile from Davita, a look of sensuous pouting, another of pure animal magnetism, which Davita gave off anyway when she entered a room.

  “Why don’t you stand up and rearrange your dress now, Davita,” he said finally.

  Vicki had to shake her head to clear it. She had allowed herself to be hypnotized by Altman’s soothing voice, and found she had actually slid down the wall and was sitting on the floor. The room seemed too warm, and she found she was sweating. It was the lights, she guessed. They got hot during such a long session.

  When Davita stood, she staggered, placed her hand on the dais, another on her forehead, then slid to the ground with a sigh.

  Adrenaline shot through Vicki propelling her to help Davita. “Davita, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  “I—oh, I—did I faint? Oh, how silly, but I felt weak when I stood up. It must be the heat. Is it hot in here, Vicki, or is it just me?”

  Vicki knelt beside her, supporting her upper body to a sitting position. “It’s hot. Mr. Altman, would you get Davita a glass of water?”

  Turning, Vicki stared at Altman for a second. He was still at the camera as if he were photographing this. Would he take a photo of Davita’s faint, of Vicki helping her? No, of course not. He just hadn’t moved, but let Vicki go to Davita. Some gentleman, Vicki had to think. Wasn’t he even concerned?

  “No, a Coke, David, get me a Coke, will you?” begged Davita. “The sugar will help. I just feel a bit woozy and tired. I didn’t eat much supper, Vicki,” she whispered. “I was too excited.” She giggled. “Do you like my dress?” Her dark eyes glittered like sparkles from the shiny material.

  “This is your dress, Davita. No one, believe me, no one else at Sparksville High could wear this. It’s beautiful.”

  Altman handed Davita a can of Coke, not having bothered asking Vicki if she wanted one, too. He considered her an unwanted body, she was sure, and wasn’t going to act decent about her being here.

  With her back to him, she wasn’t sure, but she sensed that he walked back to his precious cameras. In her opinion he’d been inconsiderate to work so long without asking Davita how she was feeling.

  “Do you want to shoot more, Davita?” he said, behind them. “Or make an appointment to come back? I’m heavily booked, but I’ll find another time for you.”

  Davita tried to get up by herself, but Vicki had to help her. “I think maybe that’s best. I don’t know why I feel so weak. I was silly not to eat more.” She whispered the last to Vicki.

  “It’s too hot in here, Davita,” Vicki said. “I feel a little light-headed myself. You’ll be fine after you get some fresh air.”

  When they turned, Altman was bent over, peering through the lens of one of his cameras.
“I know I got some good shots,” he said, standing straight. “But it would be my pleasure to take another roll or two. You’re incredibly photogenic, Davita. Have you ever thought of becoming a model?”

  “I don’t know. I’m suspecting it’s harder work than it appears to be.” Davita staggered when Vicki let go of her. “Whew, I’m really beat. I’m glad you came with me, Vicki, or I’d have to ask Mr. Altman to take me home.” She smiled at Altman. He grinned back and nodded. “That would have been my pleasure, too. I’m sure you’ll be all right in a few minutes.”

  Vicki wasn’t so sure. She had to help Davita change into her jeans and sweatshirt. “Wow, I’m feeling like a piece of spaghetti, Vicki. Oh, spaghetti—can we go get something to eat before we go home? You’re going to have to drive, too. I guess David would have taken me home, but I’d have been truly embarrassed if he’d have had to. Thank goodness you came along, Vicki. I didn’t want you to, I have to confess. I enjoyed the last session with David so much, it was like being on a date with a really sophisticated man. He kept complimenting me. Well, listen to me running on, but you know what I mean. You had your photo taken here for the yearbook. I was selfish, not wanting to share him with anyone. Isn’t that silly?”

  “I don’t know, Davita,” Vicki said, puzzled about the whole evening. “I just don’t know what to think.”

  Chapter 13

  It was late when Scott and Berk circled by Vicki’s house the next morning. And usually she was watching in the doorway for them.

  “She’s going to make us even later,” Berk complained. “Rotski marks our grades down if we’re late more than once.”

  “I’ll go get her. I called her last night but Mrs. Valentine said she’d come home and gone to bed early.”

  That news had worried Scott, but a lot of people at school had the flu or a cold. It was the weather—one day hot, the next cool or rainy. He realized he was getting paranoid about Vicki—her health, her whereabouts, everything. If she sneezed he wanted to give her his jacket. Was this what love was all about? Turning into a mother? He smiled and dashed to Vicki’s front door.

  Mrs. Valentine opened it. “Vicki’s still in bed, Scott. She’s going to stay home today.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing but the two-months-of-school blahs. She says she feels really tired.” She smiled. “You don’t need to worry, Scott. I’m a nurse, remember. I’d know if anything serious was wrong with her. She doesn’t have a temperature, or any symptoms of the flu. You have to learn that Vicki pushes herself so hard all the time, she has to crash and burn occasionally. I’m used to it.”

  “I’m not.” Scott grinned back, knowing Mrs. Valentine had heard the panic in his voice.

  “Caring for someone, Scott, means you worry sometimes.”

  “I’m finding that out. Can I see her?” He glanced back at Berk, who was showing signs of impatience—like pretending to be comatose over the wheel.

  “She’s asleep. I just checked. Why don’t you call her at noon?”

  “Okay. Berk’s having a heart attack anyway. He’s an on-time freak. Tell her I stopped and said hi, get better fast.”

  “I will, Scott. Thanks.” Mrs. Valentine closed the door as Scott hurried back to the jeep.

  “She’s sick, or something.” He swung into the car and slammed the door.

  “Girl stuff, probably.” Berk screeched into the street and spun away toward school.

  “Yeah, I never thought of that. Mrs. Valentine says she’s just tired.”

  Pushing the speed limit, they swung into the school lot, parked, and flew across the soggy lawn just as the first bell clanged. Fortunately Scott could do without a locker stop if he carried his jacket around. He slid into his seat in the chem lab as Mr. Carter started taking attendance.

  Peggy Pomeroy was his lab partner. She was usually all business, but today she seemed upset. “Didn’t Vicki go with Davita to the photo studio last night, Scott?” she whispered.

  “Yes, Vicki wouldn’t let her go alone.”

  “Davita isn’t at school today, and I found out right before class that Vicki isn’t either.”

  “Vicki is home sick. I stopped there this morning.” Scott felt the first tinglings of worry about Davita now, too.

  “Davita is my locker mate. She’s never absent. I’m probably being silly, but every time a senior girl is absent, I start to panic.”

  “Call her,” Scott advised.

  “I will, I didn’t have time before class. We’ve got this gunk to the wait-and-see stage. Do you mind watching it while I call now?” Peggy adjusted the flame on the Bunsen burner.

  “No problem. I’d feel better knowing she’s home sick in bed, too.”

  Scott watched Peggy get permission to leave the room, then stared at the blue flame, wishing he could go call Vicki. But he’d wake her up and she’d scold him for being too protective.

  Peggy returned and perched on the stool beside him. “Sick. What a relief. We’re all getting jumpy, aren’t we?”

  “For good reason.”

  “I’ve lived all my life in Sparksville, Scott. Nothing like this has ever happened. I guess you’re used to violence, coming from New York City.”

  “I’m used to hearing about it, but not having it happen to someone I know.”

  “One murder in our little town is equivalent to the whole of New York being wiped out. Now two girls are dead and one is missing. I don’t even remember my mother locking the doors to our house unless we were going on vacation for two weeks. I hear you lived with six locks on every door.”

  “Three.” Scott smiled. “You get used to it.”

  “Not me. I’d never get used to the way I feel when I leave the house in the morning. And worse, being scared when I don’t get back before dark.”

  “You know everyone here better than I do. Can you think of anything that SueAnne, Belle, and Goldie—assuming the same thing has happened to Goldie—had in common?” Scott was aware of using the past tense, had, to include Goldie. She might not be dead, but if the killer followed the same pattern she would be soon.

  How was he killing them? The idea kept plaguing him. With no marks on the bodies, no evidence of illness or violence, this was as big a mystery as who was doing this.

  Peggy picked up the glass test tube with a pair of tongs and looked at it, tipping it back and forth. “You’ve asked the right person.” She smiled at Scott, revealing braces that were straightening her teeth several years later than was normal. “Those three are among the most beautiful girls in school. Davita should be included, and maybe Holly Harris. The annual stopped doing school beauties a long time ago, but good eyesight would tell you those five would have been elected.”

  “You—”

  “Don’t say anything, Scott. I don’t mind not being beautiful. And I’ve run around with Davita since grade school, so I’m almost immune to her stopping traffic. I’m developing my brain instead.”

  Scott laughed with her. He wouldn’t ever say Peggy was ugly, but she could never compete with the five girls she’d mentioned as beauty queens.

  “Have any of them entered beauty pageants?”

  “Goldie was Miss Strawberry Queen two years running. They like redheads. Davita plans to enter the Miss Arkansas pageant as soon as she’s eligible. She plays the piano and sings beautifully. You’ll see when the music concerts start.”

  Scott didn’t reply but stored the information in his brain along with the few other facts they’d come up with.

  “Hey, Scott, thanks. Maybe you’ve given me a reason to stop being paranoid. If this killer likes beauties, I can stop worrying.”

  “Promise me you won’t, Peggy. Stay with Vicki’s idea that all women in town should travel in groups or at least pairs.”

  Scott called Vicki at noon. She sounded sleepy as if she’d just woke up. “You okay?”

  “I guess so, but I feel exhausted. I’m missing you.”

  “Me too. School is boring without yo
u.” He was glad she’d said that. “Davita is sick too. Maybe you two have the same disease—laziness.” He teased her a little.

  “She almost passed out last night, Scott. If I get dressed, will you come by after school? I’ll tell you what happened at the studio.”

  “I’d planned to come by. But you don’t have to get dressed just for me.”

  “Funny guy. Dream on.”

  “I will. Gotta go. Promised Peggy Pomeroy I’d eat lunch with her.” He couldn’t resist giving Vicki a bad time.

  “Good. You can talk about math and chemistry and all that good stuff. It won’t keep you from missing me, though.”

  “Such ego. You’re getting better. I can tell. Bye.” He hung up and actually did sit by Peggy in the cafeteria. He felt comfortable with her, since she was the type of girl he usually talked to. Berk was conspicuously absent. Probably went to Pizza Hut. School lunch contained mystery meat today. Good thing Scott wasn’t very hungry.

  After school Berk dropped him off at his mother’s office. He was going to beg the car. She said she could do without it if he’d come back and get her later.

  Vicki was up, making a pot of tea, when Scott knocked and she let him in. He hugged her. “The day was twice as long without you there.”

  “I hardly ever see you until last period.” She made him sit down and poured him a cup of tea without asking. He never drank tea, but he’d drink hemlock if she served it to him. She looked pale but great.

  “I know you’re there.”

  “Flattery will get you a chocolate chip cookie.” She dumped several on a dish and set it on the table.

  He ate all of them while she told him about the photo session the night before.

  “Did you come away as suspicious as you had been before?” he asked, reaching for the last cookie, since she didn’t seem hungry.

  “Not really. I was worried about Davita’s fainting, but she said she hadn’t eaten any supper, she was so excited.”