Page 24 of Breathe Me In

“And you don’t?” I meant that every other way but the way she took it.

“Detective Brad.” She waved me off with a flirtatious giggle. “You sure know how to make a girl blush.”

“It’s Detective Bradley or Stone,” I said with a straight face. “I just meant, given that your job is to influence people to drink beer, and I can see by your videos you’re flirty, doesn’t that sometimes make men follow you home? I know it shouldn’t be that way, but it’s taking an awful risk.”

“Maybe?” She gave a lazy nod. “Well, yes, sometimes, but they’re mostly all losers. You know, middle-aged men who still live in their parents’ basement. I just call the police, and they go away.” Apparently, the idea of being stalked by men who may or may not have plans for her didn’t faze her. Christ, twenty-year-olds had no idea what the real world was like.

“Sophia.” Bree studied a photo on her bookshelf. “Why do these girls look familiar?”

Sophia bounced off the couch and joined her. “That’s my squad.” She pointed to the girls and gave her their names while I slipped a glove on and sifted through her huge pile of mail.

“And the guys behind you?”

“Jeremy, Josh, and Jordon. They’re the brew reps. They like to keep an eye on us.” I caught her eye roll. She was sweet, but I imagined she’d be high maintenance. There must have been a few months’ worth of mail in front of me. “You’d have seen my girls in my videos. We work the same hours, leave at the same time, have breakfast at Tony’s, then head home to bed before going to class.” I miss having that kind of energy. I guess I still did, I rationalized, it just came out differently, like when I played hockey or chased down a killer.

“I know Maria’s on her way over, but can you call the rest and ask if they’d give me copies of their footage?” Bree asked, and Sophia grabbed her phone and started to text them.

I stopped sifting the mail when I noticed a green smudge on an envelope. I held it up to Bree, who joined my side. “That shade of green looks familiar.”

She pulled my arm down to see it better and was careful not to touch the paper. “It sure does.” She turned to Sophia. “Do you mind if we take—”

“Take whatever.” She shrugged. Someone knocked on the door, and she walked over and opened it without even checking to see who it was. “Hey, girl.” Her voice went high pitched, and I cringed. “Maria, this here’s Detective Brad and PI Bree.” She pointed to us.

“Detective Bradley.” I licked my mouth with frustration. “We just have a few questions for you.”

“Sure.” She seemed a little more uneasy with us than Sophia but nonetheless was a good sport about answering our questions. “Is this about the double murders at the club?”

“Yes.” Bree moved to the chair across from her and pulled their attention off me while I bagged the envelope.

Maria handed her a piece of paper. “I uploaded all my footage to the account like you asked. I probably added way more than you need, but I’d be lying if I didn’t share that this stuff is getting crazy.”

I turned, and Bree shifted closer to the girl. “What do you mean?”

“Look, Longboard’s the owner of the club. He’s a good guy, but he’s hardly ever there, and we’re paid by a secondary company that wants us to flaunt ourselves around all night in skimpy outfits and give out free tasters. We have to stop and talk—”

“Flirt, you mean,” Sophia said.

“Yeah, flirt. We stop and flirt with whoever’s interested, and we’re supposed to give them a few minutes of our time and then move on. We’re literally a wet dream for freaks and geeks.”

“All right.” Bree waited for her to go on.

“But some guys don’t think a few minutes is enough. They think it’s an open invitation to take it a step further. I had this one guy follow me around the entire night, all the way to my car, and when I arrived at Tony’s for breakfast, I saw him in a car in the parking lot. I had to call the cops. I stayed here that night ’cause I was too scared to go home. I mean, all that shit that’s going down.”

“Did you ever get his name?”

“Ron Jackson.” She sniffed as she answered Bree. “But I haven’t seen him in about a month. I’m hoping he’s in jail or something.”

I sent a quick text to Officer Smith to run that name, and a moment later he came back.

Smith: County Jail. Got picked up about a month ago on B and E. Also charged with resistance.

“He’s in jail,” I let her know.

“For how long, and what’d he do?” Maria seemed to relax some.

I shook my head. “Breaking and entering charge.” I fought an inward sigh. “If he’s in county, he’s not our guy.” I went back to the mail while Bree dug some more.

“All right”—Bree took a deep breath—“if it wasn’t Ron, is there anyone else that you noticed hanging around, or watching you girls, or just anyone that stood out? Christ, what about the staff?”