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Authors: Erynn Mangum

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BOOK: Sketchy Behavior
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Dad, though, had a coworker who discovered three years ago that his daughter was anorexic, and now Dad was completely panicked that I might be too. I kept telling him about my love of cookies and carbs in general, but I don’t think he believed me.

If I had to change anything about my appearance, I’d change my height. To taller. Much taller. It got old having to tilt my head all the time.

Mom and DJ came into the kitchen then. Mom made a quick lunch of crackers, lunch meat, and cheese, and DJ made a sandwich.

“We’re going to wait here for Kent to come. He’s going to drive with us,” DJ said, swallowing a bite of his huge sandwich.

I wondered if Miss Yeager was going to be at the parade. She was all nostalgic about the weird traditions this town had.

“Where should Claire and I be?” Dad asked.

DJ said, “You can stand wherever you like. We’ve got another guy coming to shadow you two, but I think everything will be fine today. The parade ends at two and the press conference starts at
City Hall thirty minutes later, so if I were you, I’d try to find a spot close to there if you can.”

Mom nodded. “Wow, Katie-Kin. City Hall. That’s pretty impressive!”

I sighed. “What exactly do they want me to say at this press conference?” I wasn’t good in front of cameras anyway — as evidenced by my yearbook picture — so I had no idea how I was going to be in front of several and still have coherent things to say.

“Just tell them about the drawing,” DJ said. “Don’t mention anyone’s name and don’t say anything about where you live.” He shrugged. “It’ll be fine, Kate.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to be in front of the cameras.”

“No, but Detective Masterson will be up there with you, so at least you won’t be alone in front of the cameras.” Then he got very serious. “And Kate? The most important thing you need to remember?”

I waited. “Yeah?”

“Don’t squint.”

I threw my one tomato slice at his face.

Chapter Ten

T
HE GOVERNOR WAS ALREADY THERE WHEN WE GOT TO
the beginning of Main. Our governor was a nice, round man. And I couldn’t think of another way to describe him. He was just very … round.

His face was round, his torso was round. He even did his hair in that comb-over style, so that even looked round once a nice breeze kicked up.

But he was nice and as far as I knew a good politician, and he couldn’t remember my name to save his life.

“Sarah!” he said warmly when we walked over to his old-fashioned convertible.

I looked around, but my mom’s name is Claire and the two of us were the only girls there beside the governor’s wife, whose name is Patricia.

Detective Masterson, who had picked us all up a few minutes ago, leaned closer to the governor. “Kate,” he said quietly.

The governor shook his head. “My apologies.” Then he started over. “Kate!” Once more, the warmth just flowed. “My thankfulness and appreciation to you, my dear!”

I nodded, smiling. I liked our governor. His wife was a tiny little thing with grayish-blonde highlights cut into a Jackie O style. She smiled at me in one of those “yeah, what he said” smiles.

Our town does not have a very big Main Street, so in order for
the parade to last two hours, we had to drive five miles an hour the whole way.

People were milling around everywhere. Finishing the decorations, parking their antique cars in a parking lot across the street so they could get in line a little later, already snacking on foot-long corn dogs and Dippin’ Dots ice cream.

Which looked really good, and I decided that after our spot in the parade was over I was definitely getting one of the corn dogs.

There were a few speakers placed strategically down Main Street and all of a sudden they kicked on. Dean Martin started crooning
Ain’t That a Kick in the Head
, and my mom started whistling to it.

“I love Dino!” Mom said.

The governor nodded appreciatively. “I certainly agree. He was one of the best musical artists of the entire last century.”

“Americana would have been much different without him.” Mom sighed.

“How is security going to work here?” Dad asked, apparently not caring about Dino and his effect on Americana.

Detective Masterson took over. “Governor, you and your wife will be driving. I’m going to have Kate sit on the top of the trunk —”

I blinked. “What?” I said.

Detective Masterson kept talking. “— with Officer Kirkpatrick and Officer DeWeise on either side of her.”

So I was between DJ and another officer, a Mr. DeWeise, who looked like he was probably a lineman back in his college football days. He smiled nicely at me and I noticed the missing right eye tooth.

Wrong sport. Maybe hockey?

“Meanwhile, I’ve got another four guys coming. Two will be driving in a squad car in front of you and me and two other guys will be directly behind you in another squad car.” The detective looked at Dad. “How does that sound?”

It looked like it pained Dad to admit that it did sound good. “And where should Claire and I be?”

“You can just feel free to enjoy the parade. Get a Dippin’ Dots or a cotton candy or something.”

Considering that Dad is about as excited about parades as I am, he handled the day’s activities well. “Fine,” he said quietly. “We’ll wait here until Kate is leaving.”

“Perfectly okay,” Detective Masterson said.

At ten minutes before the parade was scheduled to start, all of us had to take our place in the car. I perched myself precariously on the trunk of the car with my feet dangling into the backseat. The metal of the car and the leather on the seats were hot and I was glad I’d opted to not wear a skirt, since the back of my bare legs would have been touching it.

DJ and Officer DeWeise were going to be roasting by the end of the parade, since they were in full uniform complete with their bulletproof vests.

“Are those heavy?” I asked as DJ adjusted his.

He thought about it and then shook his head. “They’re pretty lightweight. They make custom ones now, but South Woodhaven Falls doesn’t have a big enough budget to cover getting those for all of us. Especially since you’ve heard about our daily adrenaline rush of getting cats out of pit bull’s teeth.”

I grinned.

“But these ones aren’t too heavy. Just bulky more than anything.”

Officer DeWeise squinted at me. “We might have one that will fit you at the station. We’ve got a girl officer who left for maternity leave and she was about your size.”

“Before or after the maternity part?” I asked, wondering if I should take a more proactive approach to my workout routine.

DJ rolled his eyes. “Before, Kate. Please don’t tell me you are like other girls and all uptight and overly concerned about your appearance.”

“I’m sorry, have you seen my yearbook picture?” I said.

He grinned.

“What yearbook picture?” Officer DeWeise asked.

“The one that’s headlining everything they ever say about me,” I groaned. “I look like this.” I squinched up my eyes at him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yeah, that does look kind of familiar.”

I sighed. “Anyway, I think I have some small right to be a little bit concerned about my appearance now.”

DJ conceded with a shrug. “Whatever. Did you at least bring sunglasses?”

I brought them in my purse, which I’d stuck below my feet on the passenger seat. “Got them. Think I should put them on right now?” The road ahead was pretty shaded for the first mile.

Officer DeWeise shook his head. “Just wait. Practice smiling with your eyes open for the first little bit.”

DJ thought that was hilarious.

Our police force employed a regular lineup of comedians. I shook my head. The governor and his wife were climbing into the front seat and Mom waved at me.

“Smile pretty!” she said all happily. She loved the parade, so I was imagining she was just excited to get Dad out there without major arguments about how it wasn’t even a real holiday.

“You listen to the cops,” Dad told me. “And pay attention. Keep your eyes open.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Don’t worry, sir, I just told her the same thing,” Officer DeWeise said.

The governor started up the car and we lurched once, nearly throwing all three of us into the backseat.

“Whoa!” The governor said. “Sorry about that, folks. Forgot the clutch was on. Here we go!”

We started chugging along Main Street, and I have to admit, I was amazed at how many people showed up to this kind of stuff.

People were milling around and everywhere I looked, I kept seeing foot-long corn dogs.

My stomach growled.

“You cannot be hungry,” DJ said. “We just ate.”

“Those corn dogs look really good,” I said.

“Don’t forget to wave, Kate!” Patricia, the governor’s wife, told me.

I nodded and lifted my hand as we came to a section where people were actually lined up to see the parade, not just to flaunt their foot-long corn dogs.

The squad car in front of us was keeping a nice casual pace of five miles an hour, so I got to get a real good look at those corn dogs. A few people saw me and started waving.

“Kate Carter!” one lady yelled. “It’s Kate Carter!”

“Thank you, Kate!” a man hollered from the other side of the street.

Soon there were probably a couple hundred or more people gathered along the sidewalk, and a chant started.

“Kate is great! Kate is great! Kate is great!”

I just waved and focused on smiling with my eyes open. Though, I have to admit, I liked that chant better than the one that Sean and Kyle Prestwick yelled at me in the second grade. They were twins, and they were both evil. They would always say, “Kate, Kate, Gator Bait!” every time I passed by them.

This was especially traumatizing because I believed then that there were really alligators in the Mississippi River, which is fairly close to South Woodhaven Falls. We took a field trip there every year from kindergarten to the fifth grade. And every year we looked at the same portion of the flood wall and heard how high the river had gotten in years past. And every year, the Prestwick boys would pretend that they were going to throw me in while I screamed and pleaded for my life.

I was not sad at all when they up and moved to Kansas City.

I blinked back to the present right as someone threw something large at the car and I ducked, squealing.

DJ caught it and laughed. It was a bouquet of roses.

“Thank you!” I yelled.

“Kate is great! Kate is great!”

I kept waving.

“I feel ignored,” Officer DeWeise said a few minutes later, when everyone was still chanting “Kate is great!” and applauding.

“So do I,” the governor said, smiling at me in the rearview mirror. “But goodness knows, you deserve it, Kate. Ever thought about running for office?”

I shook my head. No, most of my future plans involved me not being the center of any kind of attention. My stomach was about to implode. Public functions are not my thing. And to make matters worse, I kept thinking about how I had to talk in front of all these people after the parade.

We were starting to get to the part of Main that wasn’t covered by trees, and I decided it was time to pull out the sunglasses rather than risk another squinty picture showing up in the newspaper. Which would happen because everyone had digital cameras out and flashing.

I leaned forward to get my sunglasses out of my purse, but I ended up leaning forward a bit too much and I slipped off the trunk and landed on my knees in the seat, half-crunching my purse.

Something cracked and I just knew it was my sunglasses.

I heard a guttural cry, but it wasn’t me. DJ started yelling and grabbing for his gun. The governor started driving recklessly around the squad car in front, which immediately put on its siren. Patricia was screaming.

I looked up and Officer DeWeise was slumped over in the space I’d just vacated when I fell onto the seat, clutching his chest, eyes swinched tight. Blood was seeping around where his hands were on his chest.

I screamed. People all around us at the parade started screaming and running.

“Kate, get down and
stay down
!” DJ yelled at me. “Down to the floorboards, now!” He grabbed his radio while I scooted off the seat and onto the floorboard. DJ pushed Officer DeWeise onto the seat and then dove on top of him. “This is Officer Kirkpatrick! DeWeise has been shot. Repeat, DeWeise has been shot!”

The governor was still driving erratically. Patricia kept on screaming, covering her head with her hands.

I looked up at the pain-filled face of Officer DeWeise directly above me, one cheek smashed on the seat. “Are you okay?” I yelled. “Get to a hospital!”

The governor seemed stunned, scared, and started fumbling around, mashing the brake instead of the gas, and Officer DeWeise nearly fell on top of me. DJ braced himself against Patricia’s headrest, so he didn’t crush DeWeise.

“We need a driver!” DJ shouted into the radio.

The radio cracked something back and half a second later, someone was pushing the governor into the middle seat and was slamming the accelerator to the floor. The air whooshed around us, sirens blared, and I kept my hands knit together and my face down on the carpeted floorboards.

My heart was racing like crazy. I couldn’t get a full breath in. Someone had been shot, and they’d been shot because I wasn’t sitting where I was supposed to be sitting.

“No, no, no, no,” I mumbled. “Oh no!”

“It’s okay, Kate. It’s okay,” DJ said from where he was kneeling on the seat behind the prostrate Officer DeWeise. “Talk to me, DeWeise.”

“Kid …” he huffed, his eyes tightly closed in pain. “Are … augh, are you okay?”

I was hyperventilating. “I’m okay,” I managed.

“Kate, breathe. Breathe, Kate. In through the nose …” DJ instructed. He scraped his knuckles down his cheek and just looked helplessly at me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to concentrate on the breaths
I was taking. But really, all I could see when I closed my eyes was John X standing in the crowd aiming for me and shooting the funny Officer DeWeise instead.

“He’s supposed to be in jail,” I mumbled.

“He is,” DJ said.

“Who did this then?” I looked up past DeWeise’s tortured face and saw DJ’s face get very hard.

He didn’t answer me. We pulled to a stop and DJ hopped out over the window, and a second later they were helping Officer DeWeise out. He was gasping and moaning with every movement. Once he got out, I sat up on the floorboards.

There was bright red blood all over the shiny, velvet-white interior. It dripped down from the lid of trunk and was smeared on the backseat.

It should have been my blood.

Would have been, if I hadn’t reached for my sunglasses right at that moment.

I couldn’t help it.

I lurched out of the car.

And threw up.

BOOK: Sketchy Behavior
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