A Time of Shadows (Out of Time #8) by Monique Martin Page A

It clung to its former glory, an aging star ready for her close-up.  
    “Elizabeth?” Simon called out.  
    She could hear the strain in his voice before she saw it in his face. The sooner they found this clue the better.
    They’d searched the Internet for any connection between the theater and the Dick and Jane books, but there didn’t seem to be any. They’d briefly considered that it might be a reference to a not-too-good Jim Carrey movie, since he did have a set of foot and handprints there, but they agreed that not even Teddy would do that. But that, at least, had given them the idea of the footprints and after a little digging, they found a map of the forecourt. In the upper right corner, not far from John Wayne, were Dick Powell and Jane Withers, both stars of Old Hollywood. That sounded more like it, and it was where Simon was headed.
    “Right,” Simon said when they’d reached the right set of footprints. “Let’s hope it’s still here.”
    The three of them started to scour the cement and the neighboring area. Even though the search area was small, Elizabeth nearly missed it. A small bit of metal reflected in the sunlight. At first she thought it was a coin lying on the concrete, but when she looked closer, she realized it was their moon. The metal was well-tarnished and worn down from people tromping over it for years, but it was unmistakably their moon. She tried to pull it out, but it didn’t budge.
    “Simon,” she said, calling him and Charlotte over, and pretending to stand in Jane Withers’ tiny footprints. She pointed toward the spot and he knelt down next to it. He tried to pry it out, but he couldn’t get ahold of it.
    Frowning, he stood, making sure to cover it with the toe of his shoe.  
    “How are we going to get it out?” Elizabeth asked as images of Lucy and Ethel stealing John Wayne’s footprints flashed into her mind. She somehow doubted Simon would be up for something like that.
    “I can’t exactly dig it out without drawing attention,” he said, nodding toward a paunchy security guard standing not too far away.
    Elizabeth nodded and looked around. There had to be some way to distract the crowd. She could faint, but people would probably just step over her. Even if they didn’t, it would just be a few people, and they needed a crowd.
    She turned to Charlotte and an idea came to her. She glanced back at Simon.  
    “Don’t worry,” she said but could see him starting to already.
    She dug into her purse and handed Simon her small pocket knife. Then, taking Charlotte’s hand, she led her to the far side of the forecourt and prepared for her big scene.

    ~~~

    Simon knew that look. Elizabeth had a plan. A plan that meant a spike in his blood pressure. He watched her take Charlotte’s hand and disappear into the crowd. What on Earth was she up to?
    He didn’t have to wonder long. Over the dull buzz of the crowd, he heard her cry out briefly, then Charlotte screamed. It sent a chill down his spine and he took a step toward them before controlling himself.
    Charlotte called out for her mother and wailed quite dramatically. Whatever she and Elizabeth were doing, it had the desired effect. Most of the crowd, including the stalwart security guard, drifted toward the commotion.
    As soon as no one was looking, he knelt down and flipped open the small blade of the pocket knife. Palming his car key in one hand, he pried away at the metal moon. In the background, he could hear Charlotte crying and calling for her mother. He clenched his jaw and focused on the task at hand.
    The metal disk was just starting to come loose when Simon felt someone watching him. It was a strange feeling, this sixth sense of feeling eyes on the back of his head. He needed just a few more seconds.  
    “Hey, what are you—?”
    Simon turned to see a large man with an even larger belly wearing a “World’s Greatest Farter” t-shirt walking toward him. Simon ignored him and wedged the knife blade beneath