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Her eyes widen. She looks torn between being scared and pissed off. “What the fuck is it with you? Why are you so obsessed with her?”
“It doesn’t matter. If you help me find that Waverly girl, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, and I’m sure you want that, right? So help me. What else did Iris say about her?”
“I told you, I don’t know!” Savannah shoves at my chest, making me stumble back half a step, but I recover my balance quickly and take a full step closer, bringing us nose to nose.
“Fine,” I mutter. “But if you don’t tell me something, I’m gonna make sure everybody at Linwood finds out everything there is to know about you. So think hard.”
She blanches, and I almost feel bad for her. I’m trapping her the same way I feel trapped, forcing her into a situation where doom lurks on the horizon and she has no way out.
Except she does. She has to.
Because her way out is my way out.
She has to know something.
“Please, Savannah,” I whisper. The threatening tone is gone from my voice, and I don’t blink as I watch her, willing her to dredge up something from the recesses of her vacuous mind.
She makes an annoyed noise and brings her hands to her head, her fingertips pressing into her temples. She looks like she’s trying to do some kind of cheap mind-reading act, but I don’t point that out, stepping back and waiting as she thinks.
“I seriously don’t know,” she bites out. “It’s not like Iris told me—” She breaks off. “Wait.”
“What? What?”
“She said something once about how this girl was at, like, every party thrown by any of the Waverly boys.” She drops her hands, leveling another glare at me. “So if you go to a Waverly party, she should be there.”
My heart seems to kickstart in my chest.
It’s not a lot. But it’s something.
11
The guys swing by to pick me up from school, and by the time they arrive, Savannah is long gone, having flounced off in a huff after swearing that little tidbit was all she could remember.
Everyone in the car looks defeated as I climb into the front seat, frustrated by the fact that their long stakeout of Judge Hollowell’s house revealed nothing. But when I tell them what Savannah just told me, Chase’s face lights up.
“That’s fucking perfect! When I was asking around about a girl with a flower tattoo, I got wind of a Waverly party coming up this weekend. It sounds pretty big.” He grins. “And even better, it’s an indoor pool party.”
My breath catches as he says the word “pool party”, and a barrage of vivid images and sensations flood my mind and body. The air in the car seems to heat up several degrees, and there’s a loaded pause before Dax clears his throat.
“That’s perfect. We won’t even have to ask around for a girl with a tattoo. With everybody in bathing suits, we should be able to spot her ourselves.”
The party is on Friday, which means I spend two days feeling like a worthless lump as my mom sits in prison and I try to keep myself from going insane.
I go to school, staring up at my teachers like a zombie as I try to focus, but I spend every lecture daydreaming up scenarios where Iris’s friend leads us to pictures of the blond cheerleader and Hollowell together, evidence of their affair. It wouldn’t prove he murdered her, but if we can prove a connection between them, that’s a solid start.
On Friday evening, we all gather at Linc’s house. Both of his parents are out, and Bri, their new Executive Housekeeper, is in the apartment in the service quarters where my mom used to stay. The room I stayed in is still full of boxes of Mom’s and my stuff, and the closet and dresser still have clothes I didn’t bother to pack when Linc first brought me over to River’s place.
I dig out the bikini I brought from Arizona and slip it on, then throw a pair of jeans and a top over it. The guys don’t bother throwing jeans over their suits, since it would be too tight a fit. They just put on t-shirts and jackets. We’re barely going to be outside anyway.
“So, what do we ask this girl when we find her?” Chase asks as we drive across Fox Hill toward the Waverly school district.
“How she knows Judge Hollowell. How Iris and he met. If she has any evidence of the two of them hooking up.” I count them off on my fingers as I list them.
“If she does know Hollowell, how do we know she won’t tell him we were poking around?”
“We don’t. But we have to stop playing it safe.” I chew my lip, glancing out the window at the dark, snowy landscape. “And we’ll be careful how much we tell her.”
Twenty minutes later, Linc pulls to a stop in a neighborhood I don’t recognize. Cars line the street, and one house several yards ahead of us has kids hanging out on the large front lawn. They’re dressed in swimsuits and probably freezing their asses off, but the guys are acting all manly and cool, and the girls clearly don’t want to cover up their best assets as they huddle together, smoking and drinking out of Solo cups.
