Page 47 of Savored Sins
“What?” Autumn asks. She’s got her keys out, apparently on her way to her car.
“You. Me. Drink.” I wave a hand, gesturing her inside. “I’ve got those photos you gave me here. Thought we could look through ‘em together, try and figure out who some of these people are.”
Autumn glances through the bar window, like she’s trying to see if there’s anyone she knows inside. It’s Monday night, though, and the place is pretty dead. Aside from some old guys playing darts in the back, there’s only two other people here, who are clearly on a super awkward date and keep laughing like idiots.
“There’s basically no one here,” I add with a sly smile. “If you’re worried about being seen together, I’d say you’re safe.”
“Oh, knock it off,” she says, rolling her eyes.
It’s clear that’sexactlywhat she was worried about, but she only flips her hair over her shoulder and strides toward me, practically pushing me out of her way to get in the door. Amused, I follow her to the bar where she slides into the bar stool next to my laptop and slaps her purse down on the other side.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Autumn says breezily to the bartender, who looks less than happy to see a woman joining me. I shoot the girl a placating wink. Hopefully she doesn’t, like, spit in Autumn’s drink or something.
“Brave,” I say to Autumn when the bartender returns with her beer. “You have no clue what I’m drinking. For all you know, it could be toilet water in this glass.”
“Do you drink toilet water, Zeke?” Autumn takes a sip. She leans back, folds her arms across her chest, and surveys me. I can tell by the way her lips are twitching that she’s trying not to laugh.
“Hey, I’ll try anything once,” I say with a shrug. “But I’ll be sure to brush my teeth first the next time we?—”
Autumn clears her throat loudly. “You said you had the pictures?”
I throw my head back and laugh, loving how adamant she is that wenottalk about Friday night. It’s kind of cute, and it brings a sort of relief. If I had a dollar for every girl who’s beenall like, “So whatarewe?” after we bone once, I wouldn’t need to win this pilot competition. That’s all I’m gonna say.
Digging through my backpack, I pull out the manila folder Autumn gave me and pull out a stack of old photographs. I shuffle through them until I find the one I want, then slap it down onto the bar in front of her.
“There,” I say, pointing to one of the women in the photo. She’s standing next to a family, looking a little distanced from the rest of the group. “That’s our ghost.”
Autumn looks startled. “Wait—really? That’sher? Like, the one who… you know?”
“The one who sucked my dick, yeah,” I say, laughing when Autumn cringes. I flip the photo over. “And there are names on the back. The writing’s all old-timey, though, so I couldn’t read it at first. But then I remembered you said her name was?—”
“Lena,” Autumn breathes. She picks up the photo, scrunches her nose at the writing on the back. She gives me the side eye. “Zeke, this writing is notold-timey. It’s cursive.”
“Cursive, old-timey. Same thing. That shit’s hard to read.”
“Oh, my god,” Autumn says, looking horrified. “How oldareyou? Do they not teach cursive anymore? ”
I wave a hand. “Nope. Too cheugy.”
“Shut up.” Autumn’s laughing. “No one actually says that. Okay, but seriously. I don’t know who the rest of these people are, but from what I can read here, most of them have Carroway as their last name, but Lena doesn’t. Plus, she’s standing kind of off to the side. You think she was some kind of hired help?”
I shrug. “Dunno. Could be.”
“Was she in, like, a maid outfit?”
“She wasn’t, but that would’ve beenhot,” I say, quirking an eyebrow at her.
Autumn just rolls her eyes, not taking the bait. She downs her beer pretty quickly, rifling through the photos as we tossideas back and forth about who exactly Lena might be. Then she signals the bartender for her check, and we both pay our tabs.
“Well,” Autumn says as we get up and make our way to the front door, “The ghost hasn’t been back to murder me, so I’m taking that as a good sign. I don’t know what all that was about, but I guess we can ask her Thursday.”
“For sure. I may try and do some research before then, too. Hit Lydia up at the library.”
Autumn pushes the door open and we step out onto the sidewalk. The summer evening is humid, but there’s a slight breeze drifting in from the sea. As I breathe in, relishing the briny smell of the salt, something else tickles my nose. The unmistakable smell of weed.
Autumn inhales deeply, letting her eyes close. “Wow. I haven’t smelledthatin a while.”
“You smoke?”
