He didn't envy Bernie at the moment. He didn't envy her one bit.

Chapter 30.

Bernie didn't envy herself either. She was not happy. Put that in capital letters. She was thinking about how she'd much rather be back at the shop rolling out pie dough and waiting on customers instead of dealing with the upcoming Richard and Samantha fiasco. At the very least, it wasn't going to be pleasant. At the very most, it might involve a police presence. But then everything could turn out fine too, which was about as likely as a millipede walking on crutches.

Of course, if the drive over there was any harbinger of things to come, the meeting was going to be irritating at best. A tractor trailer had jackknifed on the ice on Bernard Street. That meant Bernie had had to take Questview instead, a street Bernie usually avoided because of the cars that always spilled out from the big-box shops lining the road. They'd been stuck in traffic for the last ten minutes.

Samantha was looking out the window and uncharacteristically not saying much of anything. As they came up to the first entrance to the Hudson Mall, Bernie was wondering what Richard was going to do.

"Stop!" Samantha cried.

Bernie startled. "Why? What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"Nothing is wrong. I need to go in there." And Samantha pointed to d.i.c.k's Sporting Goods.

"Now?" Bernie asked, wondering what on earth Samantha could possibly want in a store like that. She couldn't imagine someone who was more at odds with the store's aesthetic. Her dad and Libby would mock her for using those words, but it was true.

"Definitely now."

"But why? Do you want to get a rifle and shoot someone?"

"Ha. Ha. You're a funny lady. No. I promised Megan I'd get these camo T-shirts for her. She wants to use them for a project she's working on. She's going to sew them into a dress. Then she's going to paint dead animals dripping blood on them and stand by the hunting section of d.i.c.k's, which is why I want to get them for her here."

"Kind of a karma thing," Bernie said.

Samantha beamed. "Exactly. And it'll also be like a thank-you for this morning. Please," she said. "It'll just take a second. Then we'll go see d.i.c.khead."

"I take it you mean Richard?"

"Whatever," Samantha said.

Bernie sighed. But she turned into the mall anyway. Given the situation, she was willing to cater to Samantha for a little while. After all, even though Samantha was putting on a brave front, she must have been feeling positively wretched inside.

"How long do you think Megan will last before the security guards come and throw her out?" Bernie asked as she pulled into a parking s.p.a.ce next to the mall's main entrance.

"Megan's not going to be the only one there," Samantha said.

"Do you think this will do something?" Bernie asked.

"I don't know," Samantha said. "But you have to keep trying. You can't just turn a blind eye to stuff. That's wrong."

"No. I suppose you can't," Bernie said. Suddenly, she felt incredibly old.

She and Samantha got out of the van and scurried into the mall. It had gotten colder again and smelled as if it was going to snow.

"This place is huge," Bernie commented as she and Samantha paused at the entrance of d.i.c.k's.

She'd never been in the place. Why would she? But she knew that Brandon shopped here for his camping gear. She knew this because he'd suggested she come here and buy a sleeping bag. That way she could go camping with him. She'd declined the offer. Her idea of roughing it was staying in a motel without a swimming pool.

Now she was thinking she should have said yes. It might be fun. As they went through the aisles of the shop, Bernie stopped now and then to a.s.sess the merchandise. By the time they reached the hunting section, she was fairly certain that aside from some yoga pants, water bottles, and hand warmers there wasn't too much in the store that she wanted to buy.

Looking at the crossbows hanging on the walls and the rifles lined up like sentinels, Bernie felt as if she'd wandered into another country, one where everyone was wearing ugly clothes manufactured out of cheap fabrics. She was contemplating a particularly unlovely hat when she became aware that Samantha was staring at something in one of the display cases.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asked her.

It was clear from the look on his face that he disapproved of Samantha's bright blue hair. Or maybe, Bernie thought, he was merely puzzled by Samantha's choice of hair color.

Samantha tapped her finger on the gla.s.s. "How much are those?" she asked.

"You mean the stealth cams?" he asked in turn.

Samantha nodded.

"They range in price from one hundred and fifty to over one thousand dollars, but most run about two hundred and fifty, and there are really low-end ones for one hundred dollars. The resolution isn't as good, but they still do the job. Are you interested in buying one?"

"I'm thinking about it," Samantha said as Bernie came up beside her.

"What are they?" Bernie asked.

"My downfall," Samantha said.

"Hunting cameras," the man behind the counter explained. "You mount them on a tree and they take pictures of deer and such."

"Or people," Samantha said bitterly.

"Well, I suppose you could use them that way. Most people who want to do that kind of thing would use something like a nanny cam. These just take stills, while a nanny cam uses video technology."

"But these are cheaper," Samantha said.

The clerk nodded. "They are indeed."

"And easy to hide."

"I suppose they are," the clerk said. "I mean, that's the whole point. Can I show you one?" he asked Samantha. "Do you see a model you're interested in?"

"Do I look like someone who hunts?" Samantha asked. Then she turned and walked off.

"You want to tell me what that's about?" Bernie asked when she caught up with her over by the rack of hunting clothes.

Samantha held up two T-shirts. One was in varying shades of green, while the other was in browns. "Which do you think Megan will like better?" she asked Bernie.

"The green. It's marginally less ugly. But it's huge."

"It'll be fine," Samantha said. "She's going to make a dress out of it, remember?"

"Tell me about the stealth cams."

"There's nothing to tell," Samantha replied.

"Obviously, there is."

"Why do you care?"

"I'm not sure," Bernie said. "I just...I want to know."

"It's not very complicated. The man I thought was my father, the moron, set one up in his bedroom, so he could see who came in there-the putz."

"So that's how he knew you'd taken the clothes from your stepmother's closet?"

"She's not even my stepmother. She's this personage in the house."

Bernie threw up her hands. "Fine. Let's call her the Wicked Witch."

Samantha giggled. "That's how he knew I took some money from his drawer. It was only ten dollars, for Pete's sake. I was giving it to that old guy who lives on Spenser-the one who collects the cans...."

Bernie nodded. Sam's list of crimes was getting longer by the minute.

"And I was going to return the money as soon as I got paid. It's not as if Barron can't afford it. He said it was the principle of the thing. Ha." Samantha fell silent for a moment. "People shouldn't be allowed to spy on people."

Bernie declined to point out that taking things without asking permission was also not a good thing.

"Barron's like a disease. That's what my mom always said, and she was right," Samantha continued. "He infects everyone he's around. He even has the d.i.c.khead-"

"Richard Colbert?"

"Yeah. Him. Using those stupid cams. I heard Barron talking to him over the phone one day and telling him that if he wanted to protect his wine collection-like who would ever take any of that c.r.a.p; it tastes horrible-he just needed one of those stupid things."

"Stealth cams?"

"Yeah. That's what I just said."

"And they take pictures?"

"Absolutely. You heard what the guy behind the counter said."

"And you can look at the pictures?"

"Duh. Of course you can. Why else would you take them? What would be the point?"

"Why else indeed," Bernie replied.

Samantha gave her an odd look. "Is everything okay?" she asked. "Because you seem a little out of it."

Bernie pulled herself together. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"About the camera in Richard Colbert's wine room. About seeing what's on it."

Samantha's eyes lit up.

Bernie felt a stab of guilt. "I'm not sure that would be a good thing for you," she said gently, and she explained about Anna.

"No. That's fine," Samantha told Bernie when she was done. "My real mom was the person who raised me. I don't care about Anna. Especially if what your dad thinks is right. That means she knew who I was, and well...anyway...I don't want to go there."

"You're sure?" Bernie asked.

"I'm positive," Samantha said. "And do I have an idea for you."

"It could work," Bernie said when Samantha was done talking.

"It will work," Samantha said. She scrunched up her nose. "But I don't think we should tell your dad, do you?"

"Absolutely not," Bernie said.

"I mean, it's not like what we're going to do is dangerous," Samantha said. "It's just deeply weird and I don't think your dad does weird well."

That's an understatement, Bernie thought. "You know what," she said. "Let's just surprise him with the stealth cam if we get it."

"When we get it," Samantha said.

"Yes. You're right. When we get it." Bernie rubbed her hands together. This was going to be fun. Even if they didn't succeed, it was still going to be fun.

Chapter 31.

It took three phone calls-one to Brandon and the other to Megan, who in turn called her mother-and an hour to organize everything.

"This is going to work," Samantha said.

Mrs. McKee bounced up and down on the soles of her feet and clapped her hands. "This is so exciting."

Brandon just looked bemused. He understood the concept well enough; he just couldn't decide what he thought about actually doing it.