“Are you accusing Ian of something?” Mom asks, sounding delightfully befuddled. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Charlotte,” Mr. Dave begins, and I’m shocked at his lack of surprise at my gender reveal until I remember that he knew. He knew all along, even when he wasn’t supposed to. “I promise you that this thing with your mother was unplanned. Honestly, it’s a bit inappropriate, but—”
“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” I blurt, turning and heading into the restaurant. I’m in a slight daze as I search for, and find, the ladies’ restroom, slipping inside and bolting the door behind me. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” I grumble as I dial up Ranger’s phone. I’m not sure why, out of all the guys, he’s the one I pick to call first. It just happens.
“Charlotte?” he asks, his voice edgy and dark. “Is everything okay?”
“My mom is dating Mr. Dave. He is her new boyfriend. They tried to feed me some bullshit lie about how she met him when he came down here to visit family in December, but seriously?! I’m not stupid. You don’t just accidentally find one of your student’s mothers in Los Angeles when you live in fucking Nutmeg, Connecticut.”
“We’ll be right there,” Ranger says, but I don’t see what difference that would make. It’s not like Mr. Dave came here tonight as himself to kill me.
“No, no, that’s not necessary,” I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my fingers. “Let me just go to dinner with this asshole, and see if he gives anything away.”
“Are you sure?” Ranger asks, the jingling of keys in the background a possible indication he’s already on his way.
“I’ve got the security detail, we’re in a crowded restaurant, I’ll be fine.” I exhale and lean back against the wall. “Just … keep your phone on you in case anything happens, okay?”
“Got it,” he says, and then there’s this long, awkward pause where it feels like Ranger might say something important. Instead, all I get is: “Stay safe, and text updates.” And then he hangs up. With a sigh, I tuck my phone in my pocket and head out the door to find Mr. Dave and Mom already waiting at a table nearby.
“Are you okay?” Mom asks as I sit down and open my menu, returning Mr. Dave’s signature glare with one of my own. This guy is the meanest, orneriest librarian I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve met some real winners. One time, this librarian at a school book fair beat me with a fly swatter for wrinkling a page in a picture book.
“Fine,” I say, forcing a smile as I bury my face in my menu.
For the first half of dinner, Mom tries to get us to talk to each other, coaxing reluctant answers out of us both. The conversation goes nowhere, and eventually she just settles in to flirt and chat with Ian while I stab my fork into my admittedly delicious cheesecake and pretend not to be listening.
Unfortunately, it’s Mom who does most of the talking, and by the time dinner is over, I’ve got no new information from Ian, no clues.
He walks us outside and helps us into a cab before giving Mom the most passionate goodbye kiss I’ve ever seen. My mouth drops open, and I swear, Mr. Dave smirks at me before he closes the door and the taxi takes off down the street.
“What’d you think?” Mom asks, turning to look at me, and taking my hands in hers. I give her my most skeptical look, one that I’ve been perfecting since I was five. It very clearly says are you fucking serious right now?
“Mom, the guy is a creep. He’s clearly a stalker.” I throw my arm out for emphasis. “How does a teacher from my school end up dating my mom? And after a student was murdered?”
“Your father said it was a suicide,” is her only response, her lips pursed in a pouty sort of expression. “And sometimes fate takes a hand in a person’s life, Charlotte.”
“I don’t believe in fate,” I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest and exhaling. “But I do believe in murderers and stalkers and psycho librarians following me across the country to hang me with a noose.”
“Would you stop being so dramatic?” Mom groans, putting the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I like this guy—a lot. And I’m not going to stop seeing him without a valid reason. Just because you don’t like the way we met, that doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”
I clamp my lips tight and turn toward the window. I’m done arguing with her tonight.
Mr. Dave is involved in Jenica’s murder, in Eugene’s murder, and I’m going to fucking prove it.Friday cannot come fast enough. I’m literally counting down the seconds. It’s not that I don’t like spending time with my mom, but I swear, every other day there’s some activity involving Ian Dave. But I can’t bail, not when Mom’s taken off the week to spend time with me. I know from an overheard conversation between her and Dad that he gave her extra money to help with the bills and our outings.
