Page 56 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
She looks at the dress and then back up at me with a soft, blond brow cocked.
“Can you afford that dress, Bernadette?” she asks me gently, ignoring the death stares of both Callum and Victor. I know that either way I answer, I’m trapped. Either I’m going to steal the damn thing, or I have quite a bit of cash on me that came from … somewhere. Nice move, cop girl. She’s slick, this one.
“Victor’s mother is a wealthy art enthusiast,” I say, letting my mouth curl like the petals of a poisonous flower. I’ve painted them Venus Flytrap Purple today, so the analogy fits. The color is somewhere between a bruise and an iris, and that’s exactly what I was going for. “She’s invited us to a party next week and agreed to pay for a dress.” I lift the garment up in explanation. “Of course, come the day after, I’m going to pawn the stupid thing, but whatever.” Loose shrug of my shoulder.
Sara’s doe eyes finally slip past me to land on Victor. She stares at him for a moment, the way a person who truly wants to be good looks at someone that they perceive as bad. If she had a button to push, one that would punish Vic in all the ways she thinks he should be punished, she’d fucking push it. She looks at him like he’s already guilty in her mind.
“Well, I’ve been trying to contact Kali Rose-Kennedy to discuss her relationship with Neil Pence, only to have her father tell me that she hasn’t come home, and he doesn’t know where she is.”
“White trash is as white trash does,” I say with another shrug and a sigh. “My mother never could keep track of me either. Thankfully, the emancipation.” I wiggle my fingers at her to show off my wedding ring as the salesgirl comes over to take the dress from me. She puts it in a changing room with the others, but less like she’s providing me customer service and more like she just doesn’t want me touching the damn thing any more than necessary. “Well, you know I hate Kali with a passion. I have no idea where she is.”
“How about a woman by the name of Coraleigh Vincent?” Sara says, surprising me. Fuck. I have to resist the urge to look back at Vic. But I can feel him, poised, waiting. Callum is just oozing violence from behind me. If he thinks he has to, he’ll kill cop girl for me. But I don’t want that, not for anyone involved.
Hael comes up to stand behind Sara, hands clasped in front of him like a bodyguard, head tilted to one side. His red hair is bright beneath the store’s white lighting. It reflects back at me from the mirrored walls a thousand times over.
“She used to work pretty closely with your stepfather,” Sara continues, browsing her phone for a moment and then looking back up at me. “Tell me: have you seen her lately?”
I laugh, but I don’t have to try very hard to make the sound ugly.
“Coraleigh?” I ask, like she doesn’t come to mind often. To be quite honest, she doesn’t, she hasn’t. She was a small part of my pain. Maybe, when I was holding her against her will at the beach house, she thought she meant more to me. She thought I actually gave a shit about her. To be quite honest, the only reason I’m still glad we went after her is because she helped reveal all the other duplicitous assholes in my life. Ophelia, for example. She’s so much more a part of this city and its underground than I ever could’ve imagined. “Who the fuck gives a shit? She’s a bad person who likely got what was coming to her.”
“Bad person, how?” Sara asks, and this time, I do glance back at Vic. Purposefully. I give him a long, searching look that both serves as camouflage and allows me to get a read on him at the same time. How much should I tell her? I’m wondering.
The way Vic very slowly lifts a cigarette to his mouth, I know what he wants. “I’mma go smoke this outside.” He moves away, nodding his chin to indicate that Cal and Hael should follow after him.
I wait until all three boys are outside before responding. The suspension is killing Sara; I can tell.
“She was selling foster kids to the highest bidder,” I say, giving Sara a long look to make sure she understands.
“And how do you know that?” the police officer remarks, giving me a look right back. She isn’t even a detective and yet, here she is, talking to me. Somebody, somewhere thinks she can ‘get through to me’ or some shit I’ll bet.
“She did that, to me and my sister.” I shrug and shake my head. “If she’s missing, it’s likely one of her clients that did it.” I move over to the dressing rooms, stepping inside before Sara can ask me anymore questions. “But I’m not a snitch. You saw what happened to Kali when you goaded her. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone took it on themselves to crack down on her after the party.”
