“Alone, or all of you together?”
“Always alone.”
“Did you report it?”
“At first,” Evelyn said. “The faculty didn’t do anything, so I stopped filling out those stupid online forms.”
“Were you physically assaulted?”
“I wasn’t, but someone did die while I was there.”
“What can you tell me about that?”
“She fell down a flight of stairs,” Evelyn explained. “The police ruled it an accident, but I never believed that. I always thought she got pushed.”
Ohgod.
“Were there any eyewitnesses?” Brit asked.
“I don’t know,” Evelyn replied. “After that, a lot of students didn’t come back the next school year.”
Brit asked her a few more questions, thanked her for her time, and ended the call. Then, she pushed out of her chair. “I need some water.”
Out the door she flew. Her guts were in knots. After filling her glass, she chugged down the cold liquid, hoping to wash away the rancid taste in her mouth.
Rebel sauntered into the room. “You okay?”
“I thought it was bad that my mom left us. If she’s the killer…” Brit sunk onto the counter stool.
He caressed her back. “You’re doing great, Brit. This is a high-pressure case, but you’re handling it like a pro.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Squaring her shoulders, she shot him a little smile. “We’re just doing our jobs.”
“A job we’re damn good at.”
She pushed off the stool, hugged him. “That was the perfect thing to say.”
He kissed her forehead. “My family’s gettin’ together for dinner tonight. We should swing by.”
“That’s a big step. You sure about that, Mr. Dillinger?”
“One hundred percent.”
Pushing onto her toes, she kissed his cheek. “I would love to meet them.”
Britain
Brit couldn’t waitto meet Rebel’s family. As she got ready, butterflies zoomed in her tummy.
She changed into black jeans and a black cropped sweater, pulled her hair into a ponytail, brushed on mascara and a little blush, slicked her lips in gloss, and checked herself in the mirror.Not liking her hair, she pulled out the scrunchie, ran a brush through it, and went in search of her man.
She found him in black jeans and a dark brown sweater. He glanced up, checked her out and whistled. “You, hot little mama you.” Then, he went right back to his laptop.
She peered at his screen. “You’re obsessed over this Jordan guy.”
He logged out of ALPHA, shut the laptop. “He has no past.”
“When I joined ALPHA, my file got redacted,” she said. “The SUVs we drive aren’t traceable. I’m sure our weapons aren’t either.”
