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I said, Samantha, there’s a chance that it is. And we’re not taking any chances.”
    Ebony goes over details as we’re driven toward the city. “Eric has on a wire,” she says, “so we’ll hear all your conversation. But if by chance you get separated from him, which we don’t plan on, and you see anything suspicious, just call me on your cell.” Then she goes over the rest of the details, explaining where she and the others will be posted. “And the police forcesin North Shore and Portland, as well as the FBI, are nearby as well. All are on high alert. And just so you know, they really appreciate our cooperation in this.”
    By the time the limo pulls up in front of the Marriott, I’m a bundle of nerves. I take several deep breaths, shoot up a silent prayer, then steady myself as Eric helps me out of the limo.
    “By the way,” he says as we walk to the entrance of the hotel, “you look lovely tonight, Betsy.”
    I grin. “And you look pretty hot yourself, David.”
    “We’ll be the mystery couple tonight.”
    “Where do you go to college again?” I say, just in case we have a conversation and someone asks.
    “Portland State.”
    “Right.” I
can do this
, I tell myself as we go inside.
With God’s help, I can do this.

Four
    E ric (a.k.a. David) handles the tickets, and then we even pose for a photo beneath the starry arches before we go into the ballroom where the prom is being held. There are only a few couples, and I suspect some of them are on the committee and are there to make sure all goes well. Apparently the theme tonight is Hollywood and the red carpet. I’m not sure how Eric and I fit into this, but at least I don’t think we stick out too badly. I suppose we should’ve checked on this sort of thing before selecting our “costumes.” Like what if the theme had been tropical paradise and everyone had come attired in hula skirts, sarongs, and Hawaiian shirts?
    Eric and I pretend to admire the glitzy decorations, then eventually get some punch. Fortunately the girl at the refreshment table doesn’t seem to realize that we don’t belong here. I’m guessing North Shore High is big enough that she doesn’t know everyone. Hopefully no one else does either. After what seems a long time, more couples begin to trickle in. Eric and I stay near the entrance, taking turns watching for the girl in the celadon green gown. And surprisingly, or not, no one even speaks to us. We get some curious glances, as if they’retrying to place us, but for the most part we are ignored. Maybe prom crashing isn’t that unusual after all.
    “Here comes a possibility,” Eric says as he takes me by the elbow and, almost as if we’re dancing, gracefully switches positions so I can see a blond girl in a light green dress.
    “Close,” I tell him, “but that’s not her.”
    The night seems to drag by, and more and more I feel that this is the wrong prom. To pass time, I call Ebony and tell her as much, but she assures me that none of us is going home until the prom ends at midnight and everyone else is gone.
    “Don’t worry,” Eric says as we go to the dance floor again. We stay along the perimeter of the smooth, wood floor, close to the entrance so we can take turns watching for the girl in the green gown. “No one’s going to blame you if nothing happens tonight, Sam. Just consider this good practice.”
    “Practice?”
    “Yeah. I’m assuming we’ll be attending more proms…until we hit the right one and prevent the shooting.”
    I let out a groan.
    “Hey, most girls would think this is fun,” he says, “getting dressed up and riding in a limo to a prom.” He frowns. “Or is it me? Am I a bad dancer?”
    I laugh. “No, not at all. You’re a great date, Eric. It’s just that it’s kind of stressful, you know?”
    “That’s what being a cop is about, Sam. You should know that.”
    “I know…I do…but this is different. When it’s my vision or dream, I feel like if nothing happens,