Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory #2)(43)



“Oh man, Johnny! You didn’t! I shoulda known you had somethin’ to do with it!” Carter groaned and then threw his head back and laughed. Johnny just shook his head indulgently and smacked Carter in the center of his forehead, stopping him mid-chortle.

“I need you to get Peggy home. Can you do that, Slick?” Johnny turned to Peggy and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Carter will take good care of you, Peg. It looks like I’ve run into a little trouble, and with your daddy being who he is, I think it’d be better if I got out of here. Thanks for coming with me tonight; you look beautiful.”

Peggy looked from Johnny to Maggie, and there was a fleeting wistfulness in her gaze. It disappeared when Carter raised his glass of punch and said happily, “I’m taking Peggy Wilkey home! Thank you, Jesus!” Everyone within earshot started to laugh, and Peggy blushed prettily, her attention now riveted on the boy who was so obviously smitten by her.

Johnny grabbed Maggie’s hand and began heading for the entrance doors like he didn’t have a care in the world. Chief Bailey had parked himself in front of them, along with a young officer who barely looked older than the kids he was questioning. Maggie had thought Johnny would find a back entrance or devise a distraction. Nope. He was walking right up to Chief Bailey, easy as you please. Maggie looked around in panic, wondering if she should abandon Johnny and try to exit on her own, maybe hide in the ladies’ bathroom until the prom was over so she could sneak out after the police had gone. Her eyes landed on a figure slouched against the back wall. He had watched her walk across the floor, her hand in Johnny’s. He tipped his chin at her now and raised his hand in a jaunty wave. Maggie didn’t wave back. She had no desire to encourage Roger Carlton in any way. She looked around for Irene, but the crowd was thick, and several couples were making their way to the exits, curious about the stolen car and wanting in on the action.

“Hiya, Chief Bailey,” Johnny called out as he neared the policeman.

“Hi Johnny. You haven’t been out stealing cars this fine evening, have you?” The police chief spoke without rancor, but his eyes were sharp, and Maggie figured he didn’t miss a whole lot. Her gut twisted anxiously. Johnny’s hand tightened briefly around hers. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Clark Bailey.

“You know what I drive, don’t ya, Chief? I can’t very well drive two cars at once, now can I?”

“No, but I actually heard that it might have been a lady driving the getaway car. I’m afraid I don’t know your date, Mr. Kinross.”

Maggie froze, and her mind scrambled for something plausible to say. She almost blurted out that she was related to the Honeycutts when the thought entered her mind that maybe Nana had already put the newly arrived “cousin” together with the stolen car, and informed the police that she was a possible culprit.

“I’m Maggie. I’m related to the Russell girls,” Maggie lied smoothly, extending her hand to Chief Bailey. “Nice to meet you, sir.” The funny thing was, Maggie had been in trouble many times before. Foster kids were the first ones to get fingered if something went missing or somebody got hurt. This was the first time, though, that she was actually guilty of exactly what she was under suspicion for. She felt like her guilt was written in black Sharpie across her forehead.

“Nice girls, Cathy and Shirley. Now are you related on their father’s or mother’s side?”

Maggie smiled and prayed she wasn’t walking right into a trap. “Their mother and my mother are first cousins. I’m just visiting.” Not too close, but close enough for there to be a thin layer of protection. It would be just her luck if both Mr. and Mrs. Russell grew up in Honeyville, their siblings and family trees well known by all who grew up alongside them.

“Hey, Chief! You writin’ a book? The girl didn’t steal a car. She’s been with me all night. Can we go, please? I promised I’d have her home early.” Johnny started to move forward, and Chief Bailey stepped aside and let them pass. They were just about out the door when the chief called out after them.

“Say hello to your mother for me, Johnny.”

Johnny stiffened, and Maggie glanced back in surprise. Clark Bailey must have realized after the words left his mouth how they might be perceived. His cheeks darkened briefly, and he turned away, launching into an immediate interrogation of the next couple in line.

Maggie looked up into Johnny’s face, and his mouth was set in a hard line.

“Johnny?” He glanced down at her. “I know it’s none of my business...but trust me on this. Clark Bailey genuinely likes your mother, and he meant no disrespect.”

Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, and he halted in his tracks. “Is that so?”

“Yes.....it is.” Maggie struggled to find words and finally just sighed and said, “There are plenty of bad guys in the world. I just didn’t want you misjudging one of the good guys.”

“Pretty tight with Chief Bailey, are you? He sure didn’t seem to know who you are. Come to think of it, that “good guy” you defend so readily wouldn’t hesitate to throw your pretty tail in jail if he knew you stole that....” Johnny’s voice faded off as he took note of the cop car, complete with flashing lights, parked beside Mary Smith’s pilfered car. A police officer leaned against it, chewing his finger nails, clearly bored.

Amy Harmon's Books