“You’ll be fine.” Polly patted her arm. “You’ll be confined to your room all night, but remember that you do have a bathroom, and we have provided some books for you to read.”
She would be locked in her room. Her heart sank. How could she do any investigating if she was locked up all the time?
Polly guided her to a chair and sat her down. Brendan and Aidan stood there, fidgeting. They didn’t seem to want to spend any more time there than they had to. Sofia didn’t blame them.
Polly handed her a clipboard and a pen. “Please, fill this out the best you can.”
She skimmed the first page. The form stated that she was responsible for the costs of her stay. Could Jenna afford it? Sofia guessed so, because Brendan had told her that her stay at Waves had been paid in advance. She signed it and moved on to a non-disclosure form. In heavy legalese, it said that she couldn’t tell anyone anything about the rehab center or anything revealed by anyone inside. It was pretty elaborate, and she wondered if it could stop her from reporting back to Brendan and Aidan.
Brendan stood behind her, reading over her shoulder. He was a faster reader than she was, because he tapped her shoulder before she’d finished. When she looked up at him, he nodded. She signed it and flipped to the next page.
This one was in a super-tiny font and wanted to know about her pre-existing conditions. She squinted at it.
“You’ll be taking meals with the other residents, participating in group therapy and walking around the grounds during the day. We have a lovely workout room, with all the latest machines, and we encourage our residents to keep fit.” Polly patted her arm. She seemed so nice, for a killer.
Sofia read the long list of pre-existing conditions. She hadn’t even heard of half the things. She wondered if Drug Addict Sofia might reasonably have been expected to have some of these conditions, but didn’t know enough to fake them. She checked no to everything. Drug Addict Sofia was a very healthy girl, in spite of everything.
“How many residents do you have?” asked Brendan.
“And who is here right now?” asked Aidan.
“Now that’s confidential, you silly goose,” Polly said. “I can’t tell you names, but I can tell you that there are only three other people here sharing this experience with your Sofia, so she will get oodles of personal attention.”
Oodles of personal attention from the woman who might have murdered Craig Williams. While she was locked in a room. Great.
Sofia read the next page, a list of drugs that she might have tried. She decided to stick to the OxyContin. She had actually taken OxyContin once, by prescription, when she’d hurt her knee falling off a horse, so that wasn’t even a lie. Drug Addict Sofia was still at the junior-league stage of addiction, warming up for bigger and badder things.
“I’ll need to go through your suitcase, dear.” Polly popped it onto the table and started taking everything out, even Sofia’s underwear. She’d packed sensible underwear for rehab, like she would for a hospital, and she didn’t want Aidan to see it, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Polly was quick and thorough and separated everything into two piles.
“What are the piles for?” Sofia asked.
“These are things you can’t bring in with you.” Polly pointed to the larger pile. “And please give me your phone.”
“I can’t have my phone?!” Sofia hadn’t been separated from her cell phone in years, but she supposed it didn’t matter now that it was broken.
“No phones, no iPods or iPads or MP3 players or computers. It’s all on the website. I’d have thought you’d have read that.” Polly took her phone. “Why is this damp?”
“It got hit by a wave.” Sofia felt like she’d just been hit by a wave herself.
She wished her phone worked and she got to keep it. How was she supposed to research the side effects and withdrawal symptoms of her fake OxyContin addiction without a phone? How could she keep calling her mother until she finally got through and explained? She stared mournfully at it. Aidan picked it up off the table and put it into his pocket. At least he’d keep it safe.
“A break from electronic gadgets helps to focus the mind,” Polly said. “I know it’ll be a bit of an adjustment, but I think you’ll agree in a few days that it was worth it.”
“Why can’t I bring in my leggings?” Sofia pointed to the pile. “You said you have a gym.”
“Leggings and tights can’t come in, I’m sorry to say.”
“Why?” Was Polly part of the fashion police, too?
“They might be used to end your life,” Polly said. “So we had to institute the policy.”
“Death by leggings?” Sofia asked.
Aidan put an imaginary noose over his head and pulled it tight, then stuck out his tongue.
Suicide. People in there were so desperate they thought about suicide by leggings. Sofia shivered.
Polly piled Sofia’s forbidden items into a stack and handed them to Brendan. “Please take these home and store them for Sofia.”
He took them with a resigned sigh. Sofia was glad her underwear wasn’t in there. When Brendan hefted the bundle, a packet fell out of the bottom of the stack. She’d forgotten she always kept an emergency condom in the outside pocket of her suitcase, because you never knew. Polly was thorough.
Aidan scooped it up and put it into his pocket. “Somehow, this wasn’t how I imagined we’d share our first condom.”
Sofia laughed, and that dropped the tension a notch. She could do this.
“Are you sure?” Brendan asked. “Dead sure?”
She wished he hadn’t used that term.
“I need to do this for myself,” Drug Addict Sofia said. “To come out clean on the other side.”
Aidan pulled her into a hug, which was weird because he wasn’t much of a hugger, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. He was a good hugger, though, and she hugged him back tightly. She needed the support.
He whispered in her ear. “Cavalry.”
He held her out at arm’s length and looked down into her eyes. His worried expression said that, like his dad, he was asking if it was OK to leave her there. He must have sensed how scared she was. And she called herself an actress.
“I’ll be OK,” she told him. “Thanks for everything.”
Because that was what Drug Addict Sofia would say, not because it was true.
CHAPTER 11
A fter Brendan and Aidan had left, Polly helped Sofia to pack up what was left of her belongings. While she did so, she noted a half-sphere stuck to the ceiling. It was mirrored, and she bet it was a surveillance camera. Eyes everywhere. Did they have ears everywhere as well?
A guy built like a tank marched into the living room. He had short hair and walked with the super-straight posture of someone who had been in the military or who had serious back problems. Or both. This must be Mr. Coggins.
“Everyone’s down for the night.” He didn’t salute, but he might as well have.
“Thank you, Gus.” Even though she was thanking him, Polly sounded like a commanding officer issuing an order. No doubt who was in charge in that relationship.
Gus gave Polly a crisp nod and clasped his hands in front of him, legs wide apart. His muscles bulged under a blue golf shirt that said ‘Waves’ on his left pectoral muscle.
“Sofia, meet my husband, Gus. He helps me run things here,” Polly said.
Sofia held out her hand to shake Gus’s, but he ignored it, and she let hers drop. Guess he didn’t like addicts. Or young women. Or former child stars. Or half-Mexicans. Or whatever. Well, she didn’t like him either.
“I’m the muscle.” Gus crossed his arms across his beefy chest. “I enforce the rules. I know rules are hard for some people, but I’m here to tell you that there are no exceptions.”
“He’s tough, but fair,” Polly said.
He looked tough all right, but he didn’t seem fair. Sofia wanted to say something nice to defuse the situation, but she decided that Drug Addict So
fia wasn’t really so nice, so she crossed her arms over her own chest and looked Gus straight in his stern eyes without saying anything.
“Gus will see you to your room.” Polly handed Sofia her too-light suitcase. “I’ll be up in a minute to check on you. I need to run this paperwork first.”
Sofia followed Gus out of the living room to the west wing and down a hall with four doors and a surveillance camera at either end. She added them to her mental map for Aidan.
As she passed the doors on either side of the hall, she noticed that each had a window at eye level, and she could see inside. The lights were out, but she made out lumps in three of the beds. Her rehab-roomies were tucked in for the night under their high-thread-count sheets. They had early bedtimes here.
The door at the end of the hall stood open and the light was on. Gus ushered her inside. A familiar click told her that he’d locked her in. She wanted to bang on the door and demand to go home, because this whole prison thing was creeping her out. But she was a detective now, so she had to put on her big-girl panties and deal with it.
She did a quick surveillance of the room. It was nice, she had to admit. The floor was oak, with wide dark planks. The walls were white and the fixtures well made in a Spanish style to match the rest of the house. The mattress was firm, the sheets soft, and the red and blue quilt looked handmade. A shelf held nothing but books about drug addiction. Maybe she could get some studying in, learn how to be a believable addict.
Her bathroom was bigger than the one at home, but it didn’t have a tub, probably so she wouldn’t drown herself. Thick green towels and washcloths rested on a tile countertop. The soap smelled like lemon and sage.
So far, it could have been a nice hotel, except the window glass was thicker than normal, probably harder to break than regular glass. Inmates weren’t supposed to bust out or maybe use the broken glass to cut themselves or someone else. The bathroom mirror looked to be made of the same stuff. She spotted two surveillance cameras—one in the bedroom, one in the bathroom. Like the one in the living room, they were rounded mirrors, probably gave the person at the other end a clear view of every part of the room. No privacy here.
She unpacked her clothes and put them away in a tall wooden wardrobe. No place in there to hide drugs or weapons. Or phones. Or spare pee.
It was going to be tough to move around without being seen. She’d have to do what she could. Maybe one of the other inmates had been there with Craig, or maybe she’d find some chink in the security that she could exploit. Or maybe Aidan could make like a super spy in the movies and hack the cameras.
Light glinted off something on the floor of the wardrobe, and she bent to pick it up. It was a small metal heart with the words ‘Snow Cone’ and a phone number engraved on it. Snow Cone’s doggie tag. Craig must have brought his dog, or at least the tag, into rehab.
That meant he’d been staying in this very room. She shivered, then tucked the tag into her pocket. She’d get it back to Jenna.
A quick rap on her door, the sound of a lock being turning, and Polly walked in as though she owned the place, which, technically, she did. This was going to take some getting used to.
Polly pulled the chair over to the bed. She carried a clipboard and a small bag. “You only checked OxyContin on the form.”
“I took it for a knee injury,” Sofia said. “And now I can’t seem to shake it.”
Polly put a blood pressure cuff on her and pumped it up. Sofia wondered what the result ought to be for a drug addict. Polly wrote down some numbers. “Often, when they first arrive, people like to keep secrets about their drug use.”
“That seems counter-productive.” Had Craig lied to Polly? Hard to imagine, since his drug use was all over the Internet.
Polly handed her a plastic cup with a lid. Sofia’s name was written on it in marker. Polly pointed toward the bathroom. “I’m going to need a sample. I’m sure you understand.”
Sofia went inside. This was the first door she’d seen at Waves that didn’t have a lock. She stared at the cup. What was she supposed to do now? She’d given Aidan back the drug pee, and the second Polly tested hers, she’d know Sofia was lying.
She waited a while, washed her hands, and came back out with the empty cup. “Shy bladder.”
“That’s not what the Internet says,” Polly said with a smile.
“That time I’d started before I knew I was being watched.” She adopted a cynical Drug Addict Sofia stare.
“If I can’t get a sample from you by tomorrow, I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to leave Waves.” Polly gave her a sympathetic grandmotherly smile. “But the first night is the hardest. You’ll get used to it before you know it, and then you’ll be amazed at the good it’s done you to be here.”
Sofia nodded, wondering what came next. “I’m sure I will.”
Polly packed up her little bag, but she left the cup on the bedside table, presumably so Sofia could use it later. “Once I get your urine values, we can look into getting you something to take the edge off the withdrawal symptoms.”
“The edge off?”
“For OxyContin withdrawal, the drug of choice is Sub Oxone. The doctor comes tomorrow morning, and he can make a decision then. I’m afraid you’re in for a rough night. I’d give you something, but we really can’t until we have your urine analysis.”
They wanted to give her drugs in a rehab facility. “I don’t want to take anything for withdrawal.”
“Not right now, that’s clear,” Polly said. “You seem fine. But in a few hours you probably will.”
“No!” Sofia almost yelled the word. She lowered her voice. “I don’t want to take anything. Cold turkey.”
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning.” Polly patted her hand. “It’s here for you if you need it.”
“Here?” Did they have those drugs on site? She wasn’t sure, but she bet Sub Oxone was also an addictive drug.
“We have a drug safe,” Polly said. “But, obviously, access is strictly controlled and, as I said, I can’t give you anything until I’m sure of exactly what’s in your system.”
“I understand.” She was going to find that safe first thing. It sounded like a good place to hide evidence.
“For our records, how did you hear about us?” Polly asked.
“A friend of a friend recommended you. He heard about you through Craig Williams.”
Polly’s left eye twitched. “Such a talented young man.”
“Did he have a good experience here?”
“What did your friend say?” Polly sure wasn’t giving anything away easily.
“That Craig’s stay was transformative,” Sofia lied.
“Craig made some important breakthroughs, but he had powerful demons.”
Was Polly one of those demons? She seemed so nice. “Did he get clean here?”
“Yes,” Polly said. “And he seemed committed to staying clean.”
“Then what happened?”
“We don’t gossip about our clients,” Polly said. “I’ll no more gossip about Craig than I will about you.”
Which wasn’t an answer. “I wondered, because I want to know what will happen to me.”
“Your recovery is your own,” Polly said. “If you can surrender yourself to a higher power and work on your own flaws, you can become a clean addict, but you must always remember you’re an addict, and you can fall back under the spell of your addiction if you don’t take your recovery seriously.”
“I do take it seriously,” Sofia said. Well, she would if this were real.
“I certainly hope so, Sofia.” Polly’s green eyes bored into Sofia’s. She looked worried. “I can’t give you any medication, but if you need me, call out. I can come hold your hand and be with you.”
“Thanks,” Sofia said. “That’s really kind.”
“I want you to have a good experience,” Polly said. “And I’m here to help all I can. What you’re doing is very difficult, and I’m proud of you for taking the fir
st step.”
Then Polly locked her inside.
CHAPTER 12
Sofia woke up with regret. She should have stayed up all night working on her character’s bio but instead she’d fallen asleep. Now she sat in a wooden lawn chair on manicured grass looking out at the ocean with four strangers, and she had no idea what to share. It didn’t help that she knew Aidan was listening. She sipped a cup of strong coffee and waited to see how this would go.
She’d sat purposely in the sun and kept fidgeting. Those were the two withdrawal symptoms she’d chosen to focus on this morning: sweatiness and restlessness. She’d also started limping on her once-injured knee, deciding the withdrawal might make it have phantom pain.
Polly sat at the top of the circle. Today she wore a strawberry-red suit with a pale green shirt. Her red shoes were aligned parallel on the grass and she smiled encouragingly at the woman on her right.
Sofia recognized her. Anyone who had a television would. She was Monaco Jane, a well-known party girl who had her own reality show with her father, Richard, called Fun with Dick and Jane. Someone had leaked a sex tape of her onto the Internet, and she’d gotten the nickname Moaning Monaco. Her ratings had soared, and her presence at Waves meant paparazzi. There was no way Sofia was getting out of this anonymously.
Monaco was too famous. And rich. The Jane family owned a company that made cruise ships and custom yachts. Monaco had two half-sisters from her father’s previous marriage, and they were on the show, too. But they were older than and not quite as pretty as Monaco, who was always the star. Sofia knew she watched too much reality TV, but now she could chalk it up to research and never have to feel guilty about it again. Letting go of guilt was a whole chapter in one of the books she’d found in her room. So, she was making progress.
“My name is Monaco.” Monaco fluttered her long black lashes at the group. It was her signature move from the TV show, but nobody looked impressed. “And I’m an addict.”
“Good morning, Monaco,” the group chorused. It reminded Sofia, bizarrely, of kindergarten class.
B is for Bad Girls (Malibu Mystery Book 2) Page 7
