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“Stranger things….” Cilla shrugged.

“I told you.” Elise rocked her weight from foot to foot.

“Look, Mr. Ayres, we’re just trying to do right by you.” Officer Hurley said. “Paperwork’s done. This list of charges, she won’t make bail. She went through kids’ underwear too. We know just where to stick her.”

Cilla crossed her arms. “This is disgraceful. I’m going to call my lawyer.”

Elise stood. “Do it, honey. Please.”

“Indeed,” Carver said, “but if you do that, it’ll be from holding downtown.”

Cilla didn’t like that one bit. “I’m not a criminal.”

Josh shook his head, unable to hide his incredulity. “You’re worse. Criminals do it for money. You vultures live off misery.”

“The public wants the juicy details. Closeted players. A potential porn star swap ring. Fantana is no angel.” Cilla’s eyes narrowed, but she plastered on a smile. “I got a job to do.”

“You mean this, all this, is what people want: Robbing people. Biting them. Jockstraps.” Josh stepped closer, crowding into her space.

Cilla’s cheeks flushed an ugly red. “This is so unfair.” She blinked in self-pity.

“This is a school, young lady.” Carver spoke to the redheaded reporter the way he’d address a toxic thirteen-year-old. “Do you understand? The nice police officers there”—the cops waved—“have taken over seventy-five pictures: of you, the bite, the locks, muddy footprints, multiple crime scenes. Those bracelets are called handcuffs. We have you on video from six cameras committing multiple felonies on school grounds.” He pointed up at the ceiling. “Your car is outside, clamped. The only person on God’s earth that can save your—” He turned to Elise.

Elise smiled. “Bony ass.”

“Yes, that, is this nice gentleman who you’ve been stalking and harassing inside my school. The officers have your ID, your employers, your fingerprints, your bite mark, your social security number, and several DNA samples. Elise here”—Elise waved—“is headed to a hospital to document her injuries. So maybe you want to dial it down before someone sensible loses their temper.”

Elise cackled. “Any bets, McRibs? You better pray he’s nicer than me.”

Cilla swallowed.

Josh tensed, starting to spiral. He couldn’t give her a pass, but he didn’t want to make an even bigger mess in the press. “I don’t trust her. Anything she says is a lie. The way she sits and smiles is a lie.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “God, this is so gross. You people are so gross.”

Cilla’s plastic smile melted into a genuine scowl.

“I’m not even a person to you. The way I figure….” Josh peered at her. “Only someone truly repulsive would invade a school to exploit someone’s private life in front of kids for a buck.” He cocked his head. “Not you, though. You care about sports. Or are you disgusting? Let’s find out.”

Elise grabbed Josh’s arm, her grip firm and grounding. “It doesn’t matter. Let the cops handle her. Some bony mooch with a Botox addiction. Just kill her job and let the courts have her carcass.”

“Or let it go, Josh.” Carver spoke low, looking him straight in the eye. “Consider the long game. How can you keep all of this foolishness contained? What will help you? What protects Tyler? You might win the battle and lose the war with this one.”

Cilla nodded slowly at the principal. “Smart man.”

“Hardly. I’ve seen a hundred of you, young lady. A thousand. This is a high school. Envious bullies aren’t anything special.” Carver glanced at her with something like pity, then back to Josh. “It’s the middle of the night. She has no family. Her producers don’t care about her. Nobody does. They’ll boot her butt by midday tomorrow and a smarter, nastier one will take her spot. Hundreds of these hungry ticks trying to suck their way up the ladder.”

Josh realized what he was suggesting. “You think I should let her walk.”

“I think this is a long game, here. I think you should play the field with what you’ve got.”

Josh nodded. In a perfect world, he’d call Tyler and the Swells would send a PR team to make all this vanish. Or someone would lean on Channel Twenty-four and kill whatever fake story she had planned.

But Carver was right. Cilla Miller was one in a long line of leeches. As long as he stood anywhere near Tyler, these vermin would scuttle out of the cracks to steal and falsify whatever they could.

Officer Hurley said, “Mr. Ayres?”

Josh shook his head and turned. “Sorry, Elise.” He needed to let her walk, for Tyler, for himself. Carver looked relieved and sad.

Elise blinked in confusion. “Sorry why? Oh. Okay.” She glanced at Cilla, who was now sitting very still. “Are you sure? She won’t let up. She’s never going to stop.”