Knock Three Times

24. All Hallows Eve

    James lowered his brow, worried that he may have merely hallucinated and pulled his friends into a trap along the way, if Hamish was correct in his assumption. 'Well, I hope to see you out there dancing tonight, letting loose and having a little fun. I'm specifically addressing you, Ms. Davidson.' he looked to Christine. 'A little unwinding might just be what the doctor ordered.'

    'I'll see too it, Sir.' Hamish assured, masking his general worry with his usual charismatic vibe.

    'You, on the other hand, could use a little tightening, young man.' he smiled, then backed out of the conversation and vanished into the crowd.

    'You hear that; Dixon wants me to unbreak my hymen.' Hamish chuckled.

    'You don't have a hymen, Asshat.' Miranda shook her head.

    'Did you just assume my gender?' he couldn't help but retaliate with a smile.

    'You can't magically grow a fucking vagina—'

    'Guys, can we focus on finding my dad, please?' James interrupted with a note of desperation in his voice.

    'Right.' Hamish righted himself as the three friends focused their attention on the task at hand. 'I have a good idea where he might be. Me and Miranda followed a couple of cops behind the stage earlier today, and down into the storage room in the basement. They went down normal and came back up . . . different.'

    'What do you mean different?' Christine inquired.

    'They went down determined, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but then came out . . . unfocused, subdued even. Look, there they are now.' Hamish gestured to a break through the crowded dance floor, where Constable Friedman and his Irish partner Constable Murphy were guarding the side entrance to the stage. They conversed with several teachers and two volunteer chaperones, but neither of them was the man James had come looking for.

    'They wouldn't be guarding the stage for no reason.' Christine reasoned as she watched them talk amongst themselves.

    'How do we get past them?'

    'We dance.' Miranda answered James just as a slow song began, the haunting piano intro of "Love You to Death" by Type O Negative. The four friends looked to one another, unsure of what to do next.

    "In her place, one hundred candles burning." the lyrics captured the moment.

    'If we make our way there, position ourselves by the stage, we can blend in and wait for them to scram—look for our window of opportunity.' she shrugged. 'You have a better idea?' Miranda seemed the only one not aware of the elephant in the room, the question of who was to dance with whom. 'Look, we can discuss relationship status in life threatening situations another time. For now, let's just go with our guts, shall we?'

    'May I have this dance, my dear?' Hamish held out his hand with a charismatic and graceful bow, removing his top hat and holding it to his breast like a gentleman. Christine beamed as she reached out to take the boy's hand, but hesitated. Had she not been wearing her white-blue make-up to match her bridal dress, her cheeks would have been red as rubies. She looked to Miranda for a split second, unsure if it was okay to proceed, but with an affirming nod the young ginger took his hand and moved onto the dance floor.

    Hamish led her through the crowded space with a charismatic sway in his step, seemingly beyond a care in the world. Along the way, he tapped a friend on the shoulder, whispered something into his ear and slipped something into his pocket, then proceeded to the stage's side entrance, less than ten feet from the police officers.