“Veronica’s dad,” Chasm explains, and pieces start sliding into place inside my head. I’ve gone over our clues so many times that I have things memorized—including the list of wine aficionados in the area.
“He mentioned Justin’s instincts for real estate, and then he quoted the book. He quoted the damn book, and Armanda Vasquez’s name was on our list of fucking winos!” I slap the back of one hand into the palm of the other. “We need to get over to that house. Now.”
“Shit,” Maxx breathes, his eyes widening. He looks at Chasm again. “Could we walk over there from here?”
“We could,” Chasm agrees, glancing down at my shoes. I’m already kicking them off my feet, so excited that I’m shaking. This could be it. This could really fucking be it. “Let me get you shoes,” he starts, but now he’s shaking, too.
“I don’t care about shoes,” I murmur, dumping my purse on the floor. I don’t care if Justin heard everything I just said; he didn’t quote that book on accident. He was hoping I’d pick up on that clue.
Because he planned this. He was hoping for this. He wanted me to follow the clues in the right order, only to end up here, tonight. Milk Carton just so happened to locate pictures of Parrish today. It’s all coming together.
“Let’s go,” I take off for the back door of the garage, hoping that I’m going the right way.
Chasm pauses to open the trunk of his car, yanking out a pair of sneakers and shoving them at my chest.
“Put them on. You’ll move faster with shoes.”
I grumble, but I do as he asks, shoving my feet into the shoes as quickly as I can and yanking the laces tight. They’re huge on me, but better than walking on gravel barefooted.
We head outside and find ourselves in a small side yard with a gate. On the other side of the garage, I can hear people talking and laughing, enjoying the warm evening air. But over here, we’re cloaked in shadows. A security camera’s red eye winks at us as we pass, but we ignore it.
Chas opens the gate and out we go, onto a small street with no sidewalks. There aren’t many in Medina anyway; it has a bit of a rural feel at times. Pretty sure the residents here would gate the whole thing off if they could, keep their little enclave of rich assholes behind lock and key.
Wouldn’t help though, would it? Seeing as they’re each other’s worst enemies.
I lift my skirts up, fisting the tulle in both hands as we make our way down the road. Even though the place is just ‘two doors down’, it’s a long walk. All of the properties that line Lake Washington are huge, sprawling manors with their own grounds.
I find myself starting to jog, and then run. The boys don’t complain. Actually, they have zero trouble keeping up with me. We pound down the grassy strip beside the street until we run into a metal gate with a dark house situated in the trees at the end of a long drive.
The gate, of course, is locked, and none of us knows the damn code.
“Now what?” I ask as Maxx looks up at the black metal gate, letting his eyes drift to one side. The entire estate is surrounded by a brick wall that’s about six feet tall and dripping with ivy. He wets his lips and then moves over to it, hopping up and grabbing onto the top and hauling himself up with very little effort.
As soon as he’s situated atop it, he turns around and then offers out a hand.
“Boost her up, Chas,” he says, and Chasm kneels down, one leg bent back and flat against the ground, the other propped up so that I can use his thigh as a step. I don’t hesitate, putting my foot on his leg and pushing myself up with the help of the wall.
Maxx snatches my hand and hauls me up to sit beside him before reaching down and offering similar help to Chasm. Luckily, the extra height he has on him makes it a little easier.
Both boys hop gracefully down on the other side, but I’m not nearly as athletic as they are, eyeing the ground with a small surge of discomfort.
“Here,” Maxx says, holding up his arms. “Jump to me. I’ll catch you, Kota.”
“You’ve got this, Little Sister,” Chasm encourages, but as appreciated as their kind words are, I don’t need them.
I said I’d do anything for Parrish. This? This is nothing.
I throw myself down into Maxx’s arms, pale pink skirts fluttering around me, my tiara lilting to one side. He catches me with a small grunt, yanking me close to him for a brief moment before reaching up to fix the tiara for me. There’s a slight smile on his face that has everything to do with his hands on my hips and nothing to do with the situation.
