Wow. I glanced at the line again, feeling an urge to jump in. I was just contemplating how many hours it might take to get to the front when my phone buzzed in my hand.
I looked at the readout. Chase.
at food court now. lunch?
I shot him a text back that Sam and I would meet him there. Then I exchanged numbers with Ellen, telling her to let me know how the game was.
"Happy to!" she told me, her attention back on the line as she moved a half step forward.
* * *
Chase was at a table sandwiched between a smoothie stand and the Tekken Taco Bar. Next to those were the Super Meat Boy's Super Meaty Grill, Mario & Luigi's Pizzeria, and a cart selling Charmander Churros. Chase was predictably not in costume, instead wearing a pair of black jeans, a black T-shirt with the logo of some band I'd never heard of with a bat and a lot of blood, and black work boots. As he lifted a greasy-looking burger to his mouth, I could see amusement dancing in his dark eyes at the patrons surrounding him. Amusement that only grew as he saw Sam approaching.
"Well, good afternoon, Linkette."
I'll admit, I was surprised he knew who she was. Hmm…maybe Bad Boy had a little gamer geek lurking inside him.
"Hey," I said by way of greeting, taking a seat at his table. "You're late."
"Sorry. Car trouble."
Chase was hands down the worst driver I had ever ridden with. He drove a black Camaro with a dent in the fender and a muffler that was hanging on for dear life. And he drove it fast. While I almost never sounded like my mother, I felt her creeping into my voice every time I rode with Chase. Which, thankfully, was not often.
"That's fine," I told him. "Sam and I were having fun exploring."
Chase winked at me. "I knew there was a little inner geek in you."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "For your information, geek is chic."
He grinned, shooting a glance at Sam. "Apparently."
"Anyway, I got a few cool shots, I think," I said, showing him the pics on my phone.
He leaned in to look.
Leaned in close.
I wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but I could suddenly feel his warm breath on my cheek as he scrolled through the pictures. I tried really hard to look like I wasn't intentionally inhaling his aftershave.
"These are good," he said. "I like the Five Nights at Freddie's crew."
I licked my lips. "Thanks," I said, the word coming out a little higher than I'd meant it to.
Chase shot me a look.
I ducked my head down, hoping my hair covered the heat I felt filling my cheeks.
"Got a headline yet?" he asked, popping a fry into his mouth.
I shrugged. "I'm working on it."
"I'm starving," Sam piped up beside me. "I think I need a Charmander churro."
My rumbling stomach agreed. We stood in line, got our snacks as Chase finished his burger, then the three of us headed back into the main hall to explore the rest of the aisles as Sam and I nibbled our fried cinnamony treats.
But as soon as we entered the hall, we realized something was up.
Costumed people were swarming toward the back of the convention room, pushing and shoving, their heads craning to see over each other.
"Oh, maybe it's the giant Yoshi!" Sam said, standing on tip-toe as we followed the crowd.
I saw a security guard rush past, shouting codes into his walkie-talkie. A con organizer with clipboard followed him, her face pinched.
"I don't know if that's it," I said, a nervous sensation taking hold in my stomach. Something didn't seem right.
"Oh, watch it," Sam said as a giant Sonic with three-day stubble bumped into her. In fact, everyone was bumping into everyone, rushing with urgency, though I wasn't sure which direction they were going. It was as if everyone felt the need to move, but no one was sure where to go.
Panic was starting to set in when I spotted a giant ball of yellow fur ahead of us.
"Ellen!" I cried, grabbing her arm.
She spun to face me, her cheeks stark white beneath her makeup, her eyes big and round behind her magnifying frames.
"It's so awful, right?" she said, her voice high and tight.
"What? What's going on?" I asked, hearing fear seep into my own voice.
Ellen licked her lips. "It's Connor Simon."
"The Athena game guy?"
She nodded.
"What about him?"
"He's…" She paused, her eyes wide. "He's dead."
CHAPTER THREE
An hour later, the back half of the convention center had been cleared out and yellow crime scene tape was draped where just that morning a line of eager gamers had stood. The food court, however, was doing a brisk business, overflowing with people speculating on just what had happened to Simon.
"Maybe someone was angry they couldn't get past level twenty-one and killed him."
"Maybe he had a seizure from staring at the screen too long."
"Maybe he choked on a Cheeto." (I'll admit, this last one was mine. Don't laugh—it almost happened to me once in the school cafeteria. Lucky Sam knew the Heimlich.)
I watched as a portly, freckled, red-haired man walked into the convention center in a suit that looked about ten years too old and two sizes two small. I recognized him immediately. Detective Raley.
Churro in hand, I ducked behind a cardboard cutout of a giant pink Kirby to avoid his gaze. Not that I had anything to hide. But Raley reporting back to Mom over a candlelight dinner that he'd spotted her daughter at a crime scene was not ideal.
"Hey, isn't that your mom's new boyfriend?" Sam asked, licking cinnamon sugar off her fingers beside me.
I cringed. "He's not her boyfriend. They're just…dating. Kinda."
"You're close with the detective?" Chase asked, coming up behind me.
"No!" I said emphatically. "I just know him. Sorta."
"Go ask him about the case," Chase urged.
I spun on him. "Are you crazy? If my mom finds out that I was at a crime scene, she'll ground me until I'm using a cane."
Chase smirked. "I doubt that."
"You don't know my mom."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Hartley's right. She would."
"This is a huge story," Chase pointed out. "And you have the advantage over every other press outlet in town. You're actually here. You're really just going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers?" he asked, wiggling his own digits to emphasize his point.
I pursed my lips together. I could see the challenge in his eyes: Are you a real reporter, or are you afraid of Mommy?
I'll admit, I contemplated that for a beat.
"Fine," I finally agreed. "I'll get the story."
Chase grinned. "That's my girl."
Was it weird that the pronoun my before the word girl suddenly made my churro feel squishy in my stomach?
I turned toward the back of the main hall, slowly making my way through the crowd of onlookers to the edge of the yellow crime scene tape. I watched Raley approach the VizaSoft booth, his trusty little notebook in hand as he talked with a security guard and then a uniformed officer. Yes, actual paper notebook. He was so old.