Georgetown University was alive with activity, which was unusual for this time of the year. These were not students scurrying to and fro, but visitors, attending the American Ink Conference, a tattooing and body art convention held for the first time on campus.
Victor DeAngelis, a high school student, waited patiently for the convention to start. He and many other enthusiasts had high hopes for this event, as nothing of this sort had appeared the greater Washington DC area for some time. Victor had found some classmates who congregated near one of the public restrooms.
"What's the deal?" Victor asked. The others didn't see to have a clue. "I thought this was supposed to start at 9am."
"Nah, man," one of his friends and classmates, a fellow named Reggie Davidson, replied. "I heard they had some kind of problem with the facilities."
Worry flashed briefly through Victor's mind. "What do you mean?"
Reggie stood up and started wandering around the open area. "I heard two guys talking is all... said there was some kind of bomb threat."
A girl, Jamie Headley, spoke up. "They were kidding I think."
Just then, sirens could be heard in the distance, and grew closer. The classmates all stood and approached the doors leading into the event area. Sure enough, three police cars arrived, and a fire engine could be seen in the distance.
"Great," Victor said.
A man in a blue windbreaker emerged from a pair of closed doors. "Sorry for the delay, folks," he began. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Due to safety concerns, we need to postpone today's seminars and the opening of the exhibit hall. Hopefully, we can get the show on the road in a few hours, but it may be after six tonight before everything is checked out."
The group began to disperse. Victor, Jamie, and Reggie left the event hall and made their way to the quad. Many other small groups of disappointed would-be convention-goers were also found in the area.
"This sucks," Reggie declared. "Been waiting for this for a while."
Jamie threw her arms around Reggie. "Oh, you'll live," she said.
Victor looked on, toward the fire engine, and the assembled police vehicles, which now included the police chief's car. "This is big," Victor said. "We better find something else to do today.
***
It was decided that the three would head to Amelia's Pizza, a local teen hangout. Located within a detached single story building in a large parking lot (a large auto repair shop used to occupy the lot), Amelia's was a favorite of teenagers in the area due to its proximity to the local high school.
Jamie ordered a pepperoni sub, and sat down with Reggie and Victor at a table away from the video game machines. This routine had been in place for years - Victor, Reggie, and Jamie had been inseparable since middle school. Things had turned sour a few years back when Reggie had a "thing" for Jamie, but that had since blown over. None of the three ever mentioned the problems they had during this trying period. It just wasn't talked about, a habit each had learned from their parents.
"Brings back memories," Reggie said, smiling. "Hey, Jamie, did you ever get that spider tat?"
Jamie stood and raised her shirt, revealing a midriff bare of any artwork. "See one?"
"You should do it," Victor recommended. "Seriously, that is one nice tattoo."
Jamie smiled. "I know," she replied. "You designed it."
"Still thinking about it?" Victor asked.
Putting her shirt down, Jamie sat on the edge of the table. "Dunno," she answered. "I'd like to... would go well with a navel ring I've had my eye on."
"We should do it today," Reggie suggested.
"What, now?" Jamie asked.
"I have the equipment at my house," Victor added. "We could do it if you want."
***
After finishing their lunch, the three left Amelia's Pizza and drove to Victor's house in the hills. Vic's dad was a professor at the university, but was often away on anthropological digs or attending seminars on anthropology or linguistics. Today was such a day. Mom was also gone, attending a workshop inside the beltway.
Victor opened the gate, and they drove inside. Victor's car had been in the shop, and he really didn't want to drive it, so Reggie had driven today. He parked the 1978 Lincoln Towncar in the driveway, and the three emerged, heading for the front door.
As Victor approached, he took notice of something unusual - the door was open. "Quiet," he cautioned. "There might be something wrong." Sneaking closer, Victor heard voices from within the house. These voices were not either his mom or dad.
He turned to his two friends. "We have a problem."
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