Carlos handed Ramon a handful of bills. Ramon looked at the money, then at his brother. "I don't know, Carlos, she doesn't have any clothes at all, and this isn't very much money. . . ." Ramon gave Kayla a wink. Carlos hesitated, then fished in his pocket for more money. Kayla blinked as Carlos gave Ramon several hundred-dollar bills. "Just try to bring back some change, heh?" Carlos grumbled. "I hope you're worth it, girl," he said, giving a direct look.
"Well, you could just let me leave, then I wouldn't cost you anything at all," she retorted.<T>
He laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. "I think I'll like having you around, after a few weeks of getting used to it," he said, then glanced at Roberta's sour face. "Maybe it'll take longer than a few weeks," he added morosely. Carlos walked toward the door. "Get dressed now, and Ramon will take you shopping. Make him buy you a hamburger or something, too. He said you didn't eat any dinner last night."
Kayla watched silently as the three left the room. It didn't make any sense. Were Carlos and Ramon trying to be . . . nice? . . . to her? Kidnapers weren't supposed to be nice to the people they kidnaped. They were supposed to treat them awfully, threatening to kill them, maybe starving them or keeping them tied up. At least, that's the way it was in the movies.
What they never did was offer to take you out for shopping and a hamburger.
It just didn't make sense.
She turned to the closet and dresser and thought about which of Roberta's clothes she was going to borrow for the day. The best, she decided. She found a lovely matching black skirt and blouse, decorated with red ribbons. It looked a little odd with her sneakers, but Roberta's shoes didn't fit her feet—they were too small. She found a hairbrush on the dresser and brushed her hair until it crackled against her fingers.
Ramon was waiting for her in the living room. There was no sign of Carlos or Roberta, which Kayla thought was unfortunate, since she really wanted to see the look on Roberta's face when she saw Kayla wearing her nicest clothes. Two dark-haired young women were in the kitchen, talking to each other in Spanish.
"You look very pretty, querida," Ramon said, opening the front door for her.
"Thanks, I guess," she said, as they walked down the stairs. Two of the young men she recognized from last night were waiting for them, leaning against a car. "Don't you guys wear anything but plaid shirts?" she asked.
Ramon laughed and said something in Spanish to the two men. They smiled at her. Kayla smiled back, but wished she knew why they thought what she'd said was funny.
She climbed into the back seat of the car next to Ramon and sat silently as they drove away from the apartment building. She looked out the window, trying to memorize the route in case she had a chance to run away later. A few minutes later, they parked in a lot on Van Nuys Boulevard. The street was already busy, with slow-moving cars driving past the stores and the Van Nuys courthouse and police station.
The police station!
Kayla glanced longingly down the street at the large white building, wondering if she ought to take a chance and run for it now. If she could just get close enough to call for help . . .
Ramon took her arm, leading her down the street. The two other guys walked beside them. The taller of the two hitched up his jacket, and Kayla glimpsed a small handgun tucked into the back of his jeans.
"Ramon, he's—"
"Shhh, Kayla, I know." Ramon glanced around nervously. "Jose is just being careful," he said. "We've had some trouble here lately; we have to be very careful now."
They walked past one of those inexpensive haircutting shops, and Kayla saw a glimpse of herself in the store window, the long curly brown hair falling over her shoulders and into her eyes. She caught Ramon's hand. "Can I get a haircut?"
He looked at her curiously. "But your hair is very pretty. Why do you want to cut it?"
"Come on, Carlos gave you lots of bucks. Can't I get a haircut, too?"
She walked into the store, before he could say no, and up to the counter.
"So, what would you like? A trim?" The blond young woman behind the counter looked very bored.
"Shampoo and haircut," Kayla said, as Ramon and the two guys joined her at the counter. The blonde took her back to the sinks where she scrubbed Kayla's hair with some strange fruit-scented shampoo, then sat her down in one of the barber's chairs.
"How much do you want me to take off?"
Kayla thought about it for a moment. "How 'bout everything?" she asked.
"What?"
"I want it real short. Like, a couple inches in the front, kinda shaved along the sides. All punked out. You know, something really different."