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I was alive.For all I knew, Bradley had escaped and was at this very moment getting ready to kill us all again. How did such an inept dolt get in the middle of all this? Bradley, who was laundering half a billion dollars for the mob, who had me put a laptop computer under a pile of ice in a public market. He really wasn’t smart enough for this job.Who was? Riley could figure it out. Was she alive? I heard the beeps on the machine speed up with my heart rate. She had to be alive. I promised her. She wouldn’t have to be afraid when she was with me. I promised.Angel. She was funneling money through her travel agency, but so were dozens of others, probably without even knowing what was happening. Angel just wanted to be with a rich, powerful man. So why did she bother with Davy Jones? Because he was strong?Brenda. She owned the condo. Did she know? She collected pictures of herself with powerful people. Did she collect the rent from them as well?Simon. Smart enough. Smarter than all of. There was a very slight white noise stimulating my eardrum, but like the colors behind my eyes, I wasn't sure if it was from an external stimulus or if it was simply my nerves filling in blanks that I normally wasn't aware of.If you plug your ears with your fingers, you might effectively block out most of the ambient sound that surrounds us all the time. Sounds of the house, the furnace, the refrigerator, water in the pipes, outside traffic. You find these sounds replaced gradually by an awareness of your own internal sounds. Your breathing, the rustle of fabric against your hair, your own heartbeat. But the silence that descended on me was complete. I couldn't hear my own body. I could hear nothing outside it.And time was suspended.I am an artist, and while that is not synonymous with "drug addict," I have had my occasional brush with mind alteration. There comes a point when smoking a little weed that time slows down. Or perhaps it is that your awareness of time is suspended..
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My hair was almost shoulder length. I'd gotten my lasthaircut in January and now it was June. It was a deal I hadwith my parents. I keep my hair short for the first part ofschool and through the holidays, and then I can do whatever I want until school starts the next fall. So, thisyear I had just decided to let it grow. I usually kept itpulled back in a ponytail as it was now.Carol pulled the rubber band from my hair and startedbrushing it out."It's long enough for some curls but, I think you'd lookcute with bangs," she said."Hey! You're not going to cut my hair, are you? Don't youthink that's going a little overboard?" I asked."Don't worry. No one will be able to tell when you pullyour hair back again."I was still a little nervous when she combed some of myhair down in front of my face and clipped it off. Then shewas putting some hot rollers in my hair. I wondered whenshe had turned them on and realized she'd known I'd let herdo this from the minute I let her put eye shadow on.

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