by Diane Kelly
“God, no!” she snapped. “I’d rather put a fork through my eye.”
Gee, Emily. Tell me how you really feel. “Do you have other plans?” I asked. Despite her snark, part of me felt sorry for her. She didn’t seem to have many friends. Or maybe any. There weren’t a lot of people who would tolerate a volcanic personality like Emily’s.
“There’s a free movie night in the lounge. I’ll probably go down for that.”
“All right,” I said. “Have fun.” Assuming you’re capable of doing so.
Ready now, I took the shortcut through the bath to Alexa and Paige’s room. Alexa wore a cute dress in a deep plum color, along with a pair of gladiator-style sandals. Paige, now dressed in jeans, heels, and halter top that left her shoulders bare, stood from her bed. “You’re the designated driver, Morgan. I plan on getting plastered.”
Really? Underage drinking? “How do you plan on doing that?” I asked.
She smiled a coy, coral-lipstick-rimmed smile. “I have my ways.”
And what are those ways, exactly? I wanted to ask. But I figured I’d act chill and figure it out as the night went on. I was a little miffed that she’d appointed me the designated driver without even the pretense of a vote. She was a fashionable fascist and, so long as none of her subjects objected, she’d continue to reign. As much as I’d like to put her in her place, getting on Paige’s bad side wouldn’t further the investigation, so I sucked it up and allowed her to treat me like some type of subservient underling.
Ten minutes later, we pulled into one of the parking garages near Sundance Square, the downtown entertainment district. I stopped at the machine, yanked out a green ticket, and proceeded when the arm lifted, finding a spot on the third floor.
We walked a couple blocks over and, as if lured by the throbbing beat coming from inside the bar, stepped into place at the end of the long line outside Club Bassline. The dance club was one of the few venues that allowed patrons aged eighteen to twenty to join their fully adult counterparts, and there were a number of people in line I’d peg as underage. It was past nine by then, and the night was dark, bugs circling under the streetlights. Despite the darkness, it was still relentlessly hot outside. How many more weeks until fall?
We chatted as the line inched forward, checking out both the boys and our female competition.
“Check out the girl in the pink dress,” Paige said. “Slut, much?”
The girl’s tight dress exposed an excess of cleavage and barely covered her butt, but at least she’d worn a pair of footless tights under it. And who were we to judge her, given that we all had our goods on display, too? Funny, the feminist movement had made being a woman so much more complicated. While I didn’t envy men their penises, I was jealous of the fact that they didn’t have to question everything they did to make sure they were respecting themselves and setting a good example for those who looked up to them. Not that they shouldn’t think of these things, but by and large they simply didn’t.
As we inched forward, Logan approached with four friends. He was dressed in his usual high-end preppy attire, head to toe in Land’s End, J. Crew, and a pair of Sperry Top-Siders. Could his designer clothing be evidence of drug money?
“Ugh,” Paige said. “Kill me now.”
As they continued past, Logan cast a glance our way. “Lookin’ good, Paige.”
She stared straight ahead, not even deigning to look his way. “Drop dead, Logan.”
He responded with a laugh.
Finally, we reached the front of the line.
“I need to see some ID,” demanded the bouncer, who had the body and disposition of a WWE wrestler.
We held out our driver’s licenses. He checked them and pulled a thick bright red marker from his back pocket. “Turn your hands over.” He drew huge Xs on the back of our hands, which would make it easier for the bartenders and staff to recognize which patrons were underage. “We catch any of you with liquor, you’re out on your ass.”
“Way to make us feel welcome,” Paige muttered.
“You want to feel welcome?” the guy barked back. “Go to church. Now I need twenty bucks from each of you.”
Paige gestured to the sandwich board beside him. “The sign says cover is only five dollars.”
“That’s for adults,” he said. “Not the underage crowd.”
Paige pulled a twenty from her wallet. “It’s not fair.”
He snatched the bill from her hand. “Grown-ups spend ten bucks for a mojito. You children pay only three dollars for a Coke. How’s that for fair?”
Paige rolled her eyes but stepped inside. Alex and I followed, the drones to the queen bee.
Inside, I suffered a momentary bout of sensory overload. Flashing lights and moving bodies and the smell of alcohol and cologne and a gazillion decibels of techno music overwhelmed me. But a moment later, my senses adjusted and I trailed after Paige and Alexa as they headed for one of the few remaining empty tables in a back corner.
Paige slid onto a stool at the back of the table, while Alexa and I took the stools on either side.
“Alexa!” Paige hollered over the music. “Since Morgan drove you should get the first round.”
Again, irritation flickered over Alexa’s face but she slid off her stool. I couldn’t blame her. Why shouldn’t Paige get the first round?
Alexa was a sport, though, and turned to me. “What do you want, Morgan?”
“Sprite!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Alexa nodded and headed to the bar for our drinks.
My eyes scanned the place, looking for anyone who might be trouble. Typical cop habit. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be behaving themselves so far tonight.
Alexa returned a couple of minutes later with our drinks, which had been served in red plastic cups rather than the clear glasses the alcoholic drinks were served in. I had to give the bar management credit. They really did seem to be trying to keep kids from getting their hands on liquor.
A moment later, Logan and his friends stepped up to our table.
“Go away!” Paige hollered over the loud music.
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure none of the bar staff were looking, Logan lifted his untucked shirt and pulled a shiny silver flask from his front pocket. It was engraved with his initials in a boxy masculine font. He waved it in front of him. “Sure you’re not happy to see me?”
“I am now!” Paige said, grabbing the flask from his hand. She pulled her cup off the table, situated it between her thighs on her stool, and poured a couple of ounces of clear liquid, probably vodka, into her soda.
Though underage drinking was a crime, I couldn’t very well do anything about it without blowing my cover. I’d have to let this one pass. At least Paige had the sense to appoint someone more responsible—me—as the designated driver.
She handed the flask to Alexa, who did the same. When Alexa handed it to me, I pretended to do the same, though I put my finger over the spout to prevent any of the liquor from escaping the flask.
“What’s in the flask?” I yelled.
“Grey Goose!” he yelled back.
Hmm. Top-shelf stuff. Did it mean anything? I handed the flask back to Logan. “Thanks!”
He pointed a finger at Paige. “You owe me a dance for that. I’ll be back later to collect.”
The place grew increasingly crowded as we sipped our drinks, our gazes roaming around the place. I’d always hated this feeling, of being one of many cupcakes on display in a bakery window, all covered in frosting and sprinkles, hoping they’d be the one a passerby would choose to purchase.
“Woo-hoo!” Paige shrieked, sitting up taller on her stool. “There’s Chaoxiang!”
Alexa and I turned to follow Paige’s gaze. There, on the dance floor, was the cute Asian boy I’d seen at the political rally on Wednesday, the one who’d texted Paige earlier in the week. The one on whom she obviously had a huge crush. He was dancing with a pale-skinned platinum blonde dressed head to toe in contrasting black.
He had some nice moves.
When the song ended and he left the dance floor, Paige slid off her stool. “I’ll be back.”
Alexa watched as Paige left, then turned to me, rolling her eyes.
I leaned toward her. “What’s the story with those two?”
Alexa cupped a hand around her mouth to shout in my ear. “They’ve slept together a few times, but he won’t commit to anything. She won’t let it go. She throws herself at him any chance she gets. It’s hard to watch.”
Looked like Chaoxiang wasn’t going to buy the cow, huh? I returned Alexa’s gesture, cupping a hand around my mouth to shout into her ear. “How does Paige know him?”
“His father is some big Chinese ambassador or something. Paige met him when he and his dad were at Senator Sutton’s local office last spring sometime.”
“So Chaoxiang’s from China? That’s cool.”
We reversed positions yet again. “He went to boarding schools on the East Coast before coming here. That’s why his English is so good.”
As Alexa pulled back, her gaze shifted to someone behind me. I turned to find Hunter walking up. He held out a hand and angled his head toward the dance floor, offering an invitation.
I gave him a smile and took his hand. My insides felt squirmy. I mean, I know I had a role to play here, and it was my duty to do it right, but even if Hunter was over eighteen he still seemed like a kid to me. Besides the ick factor, I didn’t want to lead the guy on. He was sweet and smart and deserved a nice girl his own age.
He pulled me into the teeming throng and began to move in that loose-limbed way of his, smiling and clearly having a good time. I did my best to match his energy and enthusiasm. As we danced, my eyes spotted Paige and Chaoxiang making their way onto the dance floor across the way.
After three songs, we’d worked up a sweat. “I need a break!” I called.
Hunter nodded. “Me, too!”
We exited the floor, passing Alexa, who was dancing with a guy with one arm raised over his head as if he were hailing a taxi. As we weaved our way back to the table, I spotted Chaoxiang tossing back what remained in Paige’s cup. He said something to her and stepped away, heading back through the crowd. By the time we got to the table, Paige was alone and sulking.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No!” she snapped. “Chao’s dancing with that whore again.” She gestured to the dance floor.
I turned to see her crush dancing again with the blonde and looking like he was having the time of his life. Ouch. That had to hurt. I turned back to Paige. “You know he’s not the only fish in the sea, right?”
My words had been intended to soothe, but they had the opposite effect. She glared at me with so much fire in her eyes it was a wonder I didn’t turn to ash on the spot. Without a word, she grabbed her purse and headed off to the ladies’ room.
Hunter took a seat on the fourth stool. “Why do you hang around with a bitch like Paige anyway?”
I laughed. “She is kind of a bitch, isn’t she?”
He smiled. “A royal one.”
I shrugged. “Just haven’t met a lot of people yet.”
He looked down into my cup, which sat on the table in front of me. “Need another drink?”
It was half full, but given that nobody had remained at the table to keep an eye on our drinks, I wasn’t about to finish it. In the last investigation I’d worked, I’d come across a guy who’d used a date rape drug on several women. The things I’d learned in my police work had made me very cautious. “Another drink? Definitely!”
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Hunter gave me that same furtive look he’d given me when I’d questioned whether he used drugs. What did the look mean? Was he annoyed that I didn’t trust him not to slip something into my drink? Did he even realize that’s why I wanted to go with him?
To allay his suspicions, I forced a smile. “I simply can’t live without you, even for a minute.”
He shook his head incredulously, but chuckled, too, and turned to go. Before scurrying after him, I emptied what little remained in the other cups at the table into mine and slid them into my purse. I’d drop them off at the police station later and have the fingerprint specialists check to see if any of the prints on the cups matched the ones from the phone.
When we returned with our fresh drinks, both Alexa and Paige were at the table. So was Logan. Paige reached out and slid her hand up and under Logan’s shirt, going for his flask.
He laughed and spread his arms wide. “If you want to get in my pants, all you have to do is say so.”
Paige yanked the flask out and held it up. “This is all I want.”
Logan pushed her arm down and glanced around. “Don’t hold it up like that, you idiot! You’ll get us thrown out of here!”
Unfazed, she unscrewed the lid and looked around for her cup. “Where’d our drinks go?”
“The waitress must have taken them,” I offered.
Paige shrugged, lifted the flask to her lips, and poured the liquor directly down her throat. When she’d emptied the flask, she thrust it at Logan. Her gaze went to the front door and she froze, her eyes flashing with hurt. We all turned to see Chaoxiang and the blonde leaving the club, his arm draped around her shoulders.
“Someone’s getting laid tonight!” Logan called. His eyes narrowed at Paige. “Isn’t that the guy that you—”
“Shut up!” she screeched. “Shut! The fuck! Up!”
Logan spread his hands again, this time raising them in surrender. “Jesus, Paige! Relax!”
Relax, she did. Logan stormed off and, over the course of the next half hour, Paige grew increasingly mellow. She bought the next round of drinks and smiled and rubbed her hands up everyone’s arms and told us how wonderful and beautiful we all were.
“I’m so lucky!” she said. “Y’all are the best!”
Uh-oh. Something weird was going on here.
A guy came by the table and asked Paige to dance.
“I’d love to!” she cried, sliding off her stool.
The guy quickly ferried Paige away to the dance floor.
She returned three songs later with a different guy in tow. She took another swig of her drink and raised it in salute.
He grabbed the cup out of her hand. “What’s in there?” Like the guy earlier, he gave the drink a sniff before tossing back a gulp.
Logan returned, apparently having forgiven Paige for silencing him earlier. He sent a pointed look to the guy Paige had brought to the table. The guy took the hint and slipped back into the crowd.
“Let’s dance,” Logan told Paige.
“Okay,” she purred.
Logan led Paige out onto the dance floor, but not until she’d given each of us a hug first. As she went, she smiled and ran her hands over the backs of the people she passed.
The way she was acting, like everyone was her best friend, as if the nightclub patrons were singing a collective chorus of “Kumbahya,” made me think—
“Paige is on Molly.” Hunter spoke with certainty, his face tight.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“My sister used to use it. She acted the same way. Like everything was kittens and unicorns and rainbows.” He looked away as if the memory upset him.
Hmmm … What should I make of that?
THIRTY-NINE
THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
Brigit
There’s no place like home! Brigit got to run around in her yard, dig holes, and chase the squirrels. She’d missed doing that. At the new place where she and Megan were living, the dog had much less freedom. Heck, Brigit was even glad to see Zoe, the moody cat. She’d given Zoe a lick across the cheek on her way in, and now Zoe was curled up on top of Brigit, who was herself curled up on the couch.
Brigit wondered if Megan would come back tonight and they’d get to stay here again. She was tired of living in the tiny dorm room. Tired of having to be on her leash all the ti
me. Tired of not getting to run and play and sleep in their big bed.
She felt a vibration as Zoe began to purr from her place on Brigit’s back. It was a strange thing, that purring that cats did. But, strange or not, the dog had to admit that the sensation was pleasant. She closed her eyes and enjoyed a moment of Zen.
FORTY
SPENT
The Dealer
He used his cell phone to log in and check the account. The balance was laughably low, the half million long gone. Amazing how easy it was to spend so much money with so little to show for it.
He felt dirty. And tired. And fed up. And exhausted.
It wasn’t just the money that was spent. He was spent, too.
FORTY-ONE
NO MEANS NO
Megan
I had little time to contemplate Hunter’s revelation before he pulled me back out onto the dance floor.
Logan and Paige danced near us, their moves provocative. Logan slipped around behind Paige and plastered himself to her back, putting a hand on her abdomen and rubbing it up and down, his thumb grazing the bottom of her breast. Paige arched back against him, eyes closed.
My stomach churned. Paige might be snarky and bossy, but seeing her being virtually groped on the dance floor by a guy she despised was making me sick. I knew exactly why she was behaving like this. Seeing Chaoxiang leave with another girl had made her feel sad, and taking the Molly had made her feel uninhibited. But if things with Logan continued to progress, she’d also be feeling itchy in her nether regions and seeing a doctor to get a prescription for Valtrex. The thought that we shared a bathroom was all the more reason for me to do something about this.
Logan put his mouth to Paige’s ear and said something. She looked up at him and said something back. When they began to make their way off the dance floor, I grabbed Hunter’s hand and we followed them back to the table.
There, Paige reached for her purse. “Logan and I are leaving,” she told me and Alexa. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”
“No,” I said.
Paige laughed. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t try to stop this? Even though we were only fictional friends, I still felt the need to step in. “You’re only leaving with him because you’re upset.”
