Page 108 of Property of Fang
“Fine,” I cede. “Go and get her.”
Molly’s footsteps recede through the parlor and up the stairs.
I brace both hands on the back of the nearest chair and draw a deep breath. I can’t go on pussying out every time that Freckles and I make progress. Every time she gets closer, I pull further away.
“She seems excited.”
I pull a deep breath and straighten to find Darla standing in the archway to the parlor. “That would be because she is.”
“I’ve got a question for you.” Her words are light and friendly, but the stern dip to her brow says otherwise.
“Shoot.”
Darko enters the kitchen with his dirty dishes.
Darla studies him a moment and then seemingly decides to forge ahead. “How long have you known that Jenna killed Mary-Beth?”
Darko’s eyes go wide. He conceals his shit-stirring grin by placing his back to Darla, then quickly escapes via the kitchen door.Pussy.
“I don’t think it matters, does it?”
She huffs. “If you’ve known the whole time that the sheriff has investigated the culprit, then yeah, I think it does matter.”
“How long haveyouknown?” I counter, lifting an eyebrow.
Her eyes crinkle the teensiest amount. “Does it matter?”
Smartass.“About as much as who told you that information does,” I say. “Which is a lot.”
“What if nobody told me?” she says. “What if I figured it out for myself?”
“Then I’d ask why you haven’t told the sheriff yet, either.” I take a step closer and relish the way she stiffens. “Unless you’ve only just learned about it.”
“Anna deserves to know.”
“And she will,” I grit. “When the time is right.”
Darla raises an eyebrow and humphs. “Did she tell you why she did it?”
“She did.” I fold my arms. “Did she tell you?” I narrow my gaze. “Gonna guess you’ve confronted Jenna about this, and that’s why you’re here, looking for the answers she didn’t give you.”
I itch to search Freckles out, but find small comfort in the knowledge Molly does just that. If it’s true—Darla really did grind Jenna about Mary-Beth—then it’s likely sent the girl into another meltdown. Another mental snap that she’ll default to dealing with the way she appears to have her entire life: alone.
She doesn’t deserve to be isolated with this.
“According to Jenna,” Darla explains, “Mary-Beth wanted to use Jenna’s association with the club to get out of that hell hole.”
“She did.” I lean a little closer. “She also wanted to score a hit to soothe her addiction. Did Jenna tell you that? Did Jenna also tell you that if Mary-Beth had traded knowledge for drugs, Jenna would likely be dead for what she’d done to get there?Whyshe’d allowed herself to get caught up in the situation?”
I catch the moment that doubt enters Darla’s mind. Her lips purse ever so slightly, eyes relaxing a little.
“I guess she didn’t tell you that then,” I taunt. “Or did you not let her?”
The woman says nothing further, even as I push her out of the way with my shoulder when I walk by, hell-bent on one thing and one thing only.
Finding Jenna.
“Molly!” I get no answer when I yell her name up the stairs.
