Dirty Girls

by Lily White

  Tall and dark, the man wore all black clothes, a trench coat hanging down to his knees, covering a shirt left unbuttoned at the collar and pants that were pressed. His shoes were the only outlier, a pair of boots scuffed at the heels, the leather over the toes creased as if he spent a lot of time kneeling down and bending them.

  Businessman, I guessed, not that it was surprising to the see the type in Winter Ridge, but odd to find one in the diner.

  He walked up to where I was standing, grey eyes observing me. I would have bet everything I had that this man didn’t miss a thing when watching the world around him. For some reason the thought set me on edge, my fingers curling over the hem of my apron.

  Once he was done surveying the diner, he locked his eyes with mine again.

  “I’m looking for Tristan Nichols. I was told he’d be working here tonight.”

  He voice was deep, but professional, cultured and classy in a way that screamed money. It took me a few seconds to find the ability to answer him.

  “He’s in the back.”

  Clearing my throat didn’t help my voice sound stronger in his presence.

  “If you take a seat at the counter, I can tell him you’re here.”

  His eyes scanned the counter, his fingers curling into his palms while his expression hid his thoughts. Turning back to me, he smiled a professional grin that was as fake as the day was long.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer a booth. Are there any available?”

  Maybe he wasn’t as observant as I thought. It was clear from where we were standing that only one was occupied in a row of ten.

  “Yeah,” I answered, “take your pick.”

  Inclining his head, the man strode to a booth at the opposite end of the diner, his gait long and self-assured, strong and determined in such a way that I felt intimidated following behind him. He took a seat, sliding close to the window.

  “I’ll let Tristan know you’re here. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

  “Coffee.” His fingers drummed the top of the table. “That’s it.”

  Nodding, I turned to place as much distance between us as I could, but it occurred to me I didn’t know his name. He was staring at me intently when I spun back.

  “Who should I tell Tristan is waiting for him?”

  “Jonah,” he answered, his voice gruff despite the carefully controlled tone.

  I was waiting for a last name, or even the reason he was here, but he didn’t offer either before turning his head to glance out the window. At least that’s what he wanted me to think while staring at my reflection instead.

  Unsure how I knew he was watching, I crossed the diner to escape behind the counter, a pair of eyes burning into my back until I turned a corner to find Tristan.

  Stepping out of the man’s view was a relief. I just wasn’t sure why.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Olive

  An hour is a long time.

  I know many people would argue and claim an hour is nothing in the span of a person’s life, but I would tell that same person to sit alone and count the seconds in a minute, then do it again fifty nine more times. I know for a fact the person would give up after ten repetitions or so, their minds changed when they understood just how slowly time could creep by.

  Sure, an hour filled with a burst of activity may pass in the blink of the eye, but one spent staring across an empty diner, the seconds ticking by from a wall clock above your head felt more like the slow crawl of torture.

  I’d run every conceivable idea I could imagine through my head as to who Jonah was and why he was speaking in hushed tones with Tristan. Yet, none of them fit.

  With a family that lived in Crayton, Tristan was never destined for the high dollar Ivy League like the Winter Ridge kids. His academic scholarship was the only reason he could attend the same prep school. Only able to afford tuition to a smaller community college, it was possible he’d caught the eye of some academic recruiter, if there were such a thing.

  I struck out that idea.

  Beyond school, Tristan didn’t do much other than work at the diner and perform odd jobs for his brother. I considered for a moment that Jonah could be a cop, but quickly disregarded the idea because we were a small town and Simon typically showed up whenever police were called. Unless Tristan was becoming a cop, but why would he speak to someone else when Simon was around?

  Musing over that thought, I realized it had been quiet during the two years Soren was in prison, and because of that I hadn’t seen Simon in a while. Maybe his brother left and this guy replaced him?

  I guessed time would tell now that Soren had returned. We all knew it was only a matter of a few days before they were causing trouble again.

  It wasn’t that the pledges were always committing crimes, but the pranks and questionable motives irritated the residents in Winter Ridge and surrounding communities. Sadly, what was done out in the open was nothing compared to what happened behind closed doors.

  None of that mattered at the present, though, only my nagging curiosity as to what they were discussing at the booth across the diner from me.

  Several times I’d tried to get close enough to hear what they were saying, but Jonah’s eyes lifted just enough to warn me in my approach.

  Soren’s presence had nothing on this man, the butterflies that flew when one was near, scattering in terror in response to the other. Every time he looked at me, I’d give up wiping down a table close to them for the hundredth time, my ears straining to hear a word or two that would clue me in to the topic of their discussion.

  Twice, I’d approached the table to offer more coffee, both their faces angling my direction, anger written over Tristan’s while Jonah’s was a blank expression.

  Maybe Tristan owed this man some money and that’s why he seemed so mad, or maybe it was a family problem that wasn’t my business? Either way, I remained intrigued, the minutes slowly marching by when I wished they’d move faster.

  The bell above the door rang and drew all our attention, my body jumping in place to be pulled from my fascination. Loud familiar laughter filled the small diner, Kendall and Shea breezing through the doorway dressed for a night out in skimpy dresses despite the dropping temperature outside.

  “Bitch!” Kendall called out to me, not that she thought poorly of me, but more because that was the term she used for every female she spoke to. It was a bit tasteless in my opinion, but I never bothered to correct her when she said it.

  Both stopped within a foot of me, their expressions excited, shit eating grins plastered on their faces as they practically bounced in place.

  “Please tell me your shift is almost over. We have a party to attend tonight and I don’t want to be late.”

  My teeth clenched at the thought of going to a party being thrown by Soren. What bothered me more than the pissed off reception I could expect from Nolan when he saw me walk into the clearing was that Kendall was so excited to see a group of people who had treated her like shit.

  Nobody really knew what they had done to her, not even me. She wouldn’t talk about it. But that was one thing about Soren’s group that was unusual compared to other kids: even though it was common knowledge they bullied those who were stupid enough to pledge, they never took joy in bragging about it. If anything, everybody was sworn to secrecy about the tasks required of the pledges.

  “You’re joking, right? You can’t really want to be around Soren and them after what they did to you before?”

  Kendall and I had been friends since I first moved to Winter Ridge, so I knew her eyes typically told a different story than her expression. Even in pain, the girl could paint a smile on her face that would fool the best of observers.

  Shrugging a dismissive shoulder, she glanced at Shea and back to me.

  “All of that is in the past. I was young and stupid then. Plus, just because we show up doesn’t mean we have to do anything. It’s a party, nothing else. Might as well have a good time while there’s one to
be had. Otherwise, we’ll die of boredom in this damn town.”

  She was lying. I knew it and she knew it, but there was no use in arguing. Kendall was going to do what Kendall wanted to do without giving much of a damn how destructive it was, and I would dutifully go along with it.

  Kendall, Shea and I were a trio in Winter Ridge Prep and would have been the same in the community college they attended if I hadn’t been held back for the time I took to grieve my parents. It wasn’t that their families couldn’t afford to send them to more expensive schools; it was more that neither of them had the best grades and weren’t really interested in higher education.

  So, after they had moved on from high school life, it became a joke between us that I was still stuck in adolescence while they’d become adults.

  Both of them had changed since graduating Winter Ridge Prep, and in the past few months it felt like they were still close as ever, while I had been shoved aside and considered the kind of friend you keep out of loyalty more than one who was wanted.

  “Nolan will be angry if I show up,” I responded sheepishly, my gaze drifting between the girls before realizing they both were staring past my shoulder at the table where Jonah and Tristan sat.

  “Who’s the guy?” Kendall tipped her chin in his direction, not bothering to comment on what I’d said. It seemed her attention had been diverted quite powerfully by a man who I had to admit had fascinated me since the moment he strolled in.

  Twisting to look over my shoulder, and a little disappointed to see that Jonah wasn’t watching us closely as we were watching him, I shook my head.

  “I’m not sure. He came in here about an hour ago asking to speak with Tristan. His name is Jonah, but that’s all I know about him.”

  Kendall and Tristan had long ago been a thing, at least until she broke up with him to try her luck with Soren. When that ended badly, she never returned to what she had with Tristan. They still had a comfortable friendship and would talk whenever they were in the same place, often laughing over memories of old times.

  When she didn’t respond, I kept talking.

  “I tried approaching them a few times hoping to find out more, but they shut up whenever I get close. Do you recognize him?”

  Kendall’s brown eyes finally met mine, the almond shape expertly lined and shadowed.

  “No. But he’s hot as hell and I think it might be a good idea to find out all there is to know about him.”

  Tossing me a sly wink, she straightened her shoulders and shoved out her generous chest, hips swaying to the beat of the music playing from the jukebox as she strolled over to the table to make her introduction.

  Shea laughed where she stood next to me, nudging my shoulder with her own. Speaking softly, she kept her eyes glued on the scene, her glossed lips stretching into a smile.

  “I’ll bet you twenty that she ends up convincing the guy to tag along to Soren’s party.”

  Jonah glanced up at Kendall’s approach, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the woman staring him down. I watched him offer her the same professional smile he’d given me and knew in that instant he wasn’t the type to accept offers for a drunken party in the woods.

  If anything, that man belonged in a penthouse of some type, sipping champagne while the world revolved around him. Either that, or in a basement somewhere, his hand covering a victim’s mouth, daring them to scream.

  Although the two images were at odds, it truly was a toss up as to what kind of person he was. On the surface he was stylishly put together, but there was something deeper I picked up that sent goose bumps racing over my body.

  Judging by the look on Jonah’s face, I should have taken Shea up on what would been a losing bet for her. The extra cash would have come in handy. Where his expression was still as controlled and blank as usual, there was something in his eyes that would have warned any intelligent person away.

  Daring to step closer, I wrapped my arm with Shea’s and we both inched forward, Kendall’s sultry voice flowing across the diner just loud enough for us to hear.

  “So, anyway, Tristan-“

  Regrettably, we hadn’t been close to enough to hear what she’d said before now.

  “-Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  Turning to Jonah, she smiled like a hungry cat eyeing a canary while offering her hand in introduction.

  “I’m Kendall, by the way. Tristan is so rude for forgetting to introduce us.”

  For a moment, I would have sworn Jonah would refuse to shake her hand, but after a slight hesitation, he unwrapped his fingers from the warm coffee mug he was holding and accepted.

  “Jonah Vaughan,” he said, his deep voice rolling across the diner to ripple down my spine.

  Kendall smiled brighter believing she already had Jonah wrapped around her manicured finger.

  “Are you a friend of Tristan’s from school, or-“

  “Actually, I’m an FBI agent,” he answered to everybody’s shock. Everybody but Tristan, at least.

  Kendall dropped his hand like his fingers were burning holes in her skin. Stepping back, her voice lost the sultry assurance of earlier. “FBI?”

  Glancing between Tristan and Jonah, she blinked her eyes. “Is everything all right? Has there been another-“

  My heart jumped into my throat at the thought that another person may have died. Although, with a town as small as this one, the possibility that something like that could happen without everybody knowing instantly was slim to none. It just showed how on edge we’d all been since Teagan died. Even the possibility of another death was enough to freeze us in place, terrified to think it could happen again.

  “No,” Jonah explained, his tone neutral despite our obvious worry. “I’m in town consulting on an older case. I went to school with Tristan’s brother, Simon, and thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

  Relaxing to hear his reason for coming to the diner, I felt a need to distract myself with busy work. Releasing Shea’s arm, I hurried behind the counter to balance out the register and put the money in the safe.

  Kendall lost interest in Jonah after learning who he was. Excusing herself to leave him to his conversation with Tristan, she approached the counter where I was standing and leaned in to whisper in my ear.

  “I think he’s here about Teagan.”

  Nodding my head, I continued writing up the deposit slip for the night. “Probably, but let’s not worry about it.”

  Shea planted her palms on the counter and took a seat, easily bouncing back from the reminder of murder in a small town.

  “Exactly. We have better things to worry about then the past. Hurry up, Olive. Get that cash put away and let’s get the hell out of here so you can get dressed and we can join the party.”

  Groaning, I nodded my head and turned away, my steps quick as I walked the money to Irene’s office to lock it up.

  It took me a second to catch my breath once I was alone. It was a wasted effort. I turned to leave and found I wasn’t alone, a pair of grey eyes studying me from where Jonah lingered in the doorway.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jonah

  It wasn’t easy keeping my conversation with Tristan quiet enough to remain confidential. Repeatedly, his voice would rise with anger, his hand fisting on the table when he spoke of Soren Callahan and his group of friends.

  Ten minutes into the conversation and I understood that much of his aggression was a result of whatever game they played on his ex-girlfriend, but I wasn’t so sure the anger was due to what they had done to her more than the fact she’d left him so they could do it.

  Tristan wasn’t a young man most women would trip over themselves to know. Thin and tall with bland features and eyes that were set just a hair too far apart, he didn’t exude true confidence or any masculine strength, his demeanor more like that of an absent-minded professor than the type of guy girls wanted to date. Judging what I already knew of him, I’d assumed his ex-girlfriend would be similar: quiet, shy and reserved.


  For the most part, I liked Simon’s brother and appreciated the fact that he didn’t seem to carry the same chip on his shoulder. Tristan had nothing to prove and his ego wasn’t so important to him that every little challenge made him feel like less than those around him.

  It was obvious his attitude about Kendall leaving had more to do with the fact he still loved her then his feelings of rejection for her letting him go.

  The conversation was worth it, though. As I’d believed, Tristan was able to provide more information to me than Simon had been willing to offer, and whether Simon was aware of that extra knowledge, I wasn’t sure.

  For one, it was well known in Winter Ridge that, while Teagan was officially dating Nolan Reid during her senior year, she wasn’t shy about sleeping with others, particularly Soren Callahan. I wondered if Nolan knew about Teagan’s betrayal, but when I asked Tristan that question, he shook his head and said he didn’t know.

  Either way, it left me interested in discovering what I could about Nolan.

  While we spoke, the waitress watched us cautiously. She didn’t appear to simply be a nosy woman, more like the type who was worried to see a strange face in town.

  Every so often, she would drift our direction, and as carefully as I could, I would meet her frightened stare for no other reason than to silently warn her away from the table.

  Determined to honor my promise to Simon that his brother not be involved, protecting the privacy of our conversation was the only way to ensure that happened.

  When the waitress approached our table, we declined her offer of coffee, but her presence jogged Tristan’s thoughts, his eyes following her as she walked away while he explained to me she was Nolan Reid’s younger sister.

  In that moment, her fear made more sense to me. She was a girl who would have known Teagan well, and would have been familiar with the events leading to Teagan’s death.

  Perhaps she was hiding something about her brother’s possible involvement in the crime, or it could have been a simpler explanation that she was still panicked over the realization that somebody close to her could die.