'Boo-hoo, somebody's crying, and it's not me!' She broke into hysterical laughter.
Realizing it was pointless to push the issue, I said, 'Call me tomorrow after you're discharged.' I unzipped my backpack. 'Before I forget, I brought your homework. Where do you want me to put it?'
She pointed at the trash can. 'Right there will be fine.'
I pulled the Fiat into the garage and pocketed the keys. The sky lacked stars on the drive home, and sure enough, a light rain started to fall. I tugged on the garage door, lowering it to the ground and locking it. I let myself into the kitchen. A light was on somewhere upstairs, and a moment later my mom came running down the stairs and threw her arms around me.
My mom has dark wavy hair and green eyes. She's an inch shorter than I am, but we share the same bone structure. She always smells like Love by Ralph Lauren.
'I'm so glad you're safe,' she said, squeezing me tight.
Safe-ish, I thought.
Chapter 13
The following night at seven, the borderline's parking lot was packed. After nearly an hour of begging, Vee and I had convinced her parents that we needed to celebrate her first night out of the hospital over chiles rellenos and virgin strawberry daiquiris. At least, that's what we were claiming. But we had an ulterior motive.
I tucked the Neon into a tight parking space and turned off the engine.
'Ew,' said Vee when I passed the keys back and my fingers brushed hers. 'Think you could sweat a little more?'
'I'm nervous.'
'Gee, I had no clue.'
I inadvertently looked at the door.
'I know what you're thinking,' Vee said, tightening her lips. 'And the answer is no. No as in no way'
'You don't know what I'm thinking,' I said.
Vee vised my arm. 'The heck I don't.'
'I wasn't going to run,' I said. 'Not me.'
'Liar.'
Tuesday was Patch's night off, and Vee had put it into my head that it would be the perfect time to interrogate his coworkers. I envisioned myself sashaying up to the bar, giving the bartender a coy Marcie Millar look, then segueing to the topic of Patch. I needed his home address. I needed any prior arrests. I needed to know if he had a connection to the guy in the ski mask, no matter how tenuous. And I needed to figure out why the guy in the ski mask and the mysterious girl were in my life.
I peeked inside my handbag, double-checking to make sure the list of interrogation questions I'd prepared were still with me. One side of the list dealt with questions about Patch's personal life. The flip side had flirting prompts. Just in case.
'Whoa, whoa, whoa,' Vee said. 'What is that?'
'Nothing,' I said, folding the list.
Vee tried to grab the list, but I was faster and had it crammed deep in my handbag before she could get to it.
'Rule number one,' Vee said. 'There is no such thing as notes in flirting.'
'There's an exception to ever) rule.'
'And you're not it!' She grabbed two plastic 7-Eleven sacks from the backseat and swiveled out of the car. As soon as I stepped out, she used her good arm to hurl the sacks over the top of the Neon at me.
'What's this?' I asked, catching the sacks. The handles were tied and I couldn't see inside, but the unmistakable shaft of a stiletto heel threatened to poke through the plastic.
'Size eight and a half,' Vee said. 'Sharkskin. It's easier to play the part when you look the part.'
'I can't walk in high heels.'
'Good thing they're not high, then.'
'They look high,' I said, eying the protruding stiletto.
'Almost five inches. They left 'high' behind at four.'
Lovely. If I didn't break my neck, I just might get to humiliate myself while seducing secrets out of Patch's coworkers.
'Here's the deal,' said Vee as we strode down the sidewalk to the front doors. 'I sort of invited a couple of people. The more the merrier, right?'
'Who?' I asked, feeling the dark stirrings of foreboding in the pit of my stomach.
'Jules and Elliot.'
Before I had time to tell Vee exactly how bad I thought this idea was, she said, 'Moment of truth: I've sort of been seeing Jules. On the sly.'
'What?'
'You should see his house. Bruce Wayne can't compete. His parents are either South American drug lords or come from serious old money. Since I haven't met them yet, I can't say which.'
I was at a loss for words. My mouth opened and shut, but nothing came out. 'When did this happen?' I finally managed to ask.
'Pretty much right after that fateful morning at Enzo's.'
'Fateful? Vee, you have no idea-'
'I hope they got here first and reserved a table,' Vee said, stretching her neck while eying the crowd accumulating around the doors. 'I don't want to wait. I am seriously two thin minutes away from death by starvation.'
I grabbed Vee by her good elbow, pulling her aside. 'There's something I need to tell you-'
'I know, I know,' she said. 'You think there's a slim chance Elliot attacked me Sunday night. Well, I think you've got Elliot confused with Patch. And after you do some sleuthing tonight, the facts will back me up. Believe me, I want to know who attacked me just as much as you. Probably even more. It's personal now. And while we're handing each other advice, here's mine. Stay away from Patch. Just to be safe.'
'I'm glad you've thought this through,' I said tersely, 'but here's the thing. I found an article-'
The doors to the Borderline opened. A fresh wave of heat, carrying the smell of limes and cilantro, swirled out at us, along with the sound of a mariachi band playing through the speakers.
'Welcome to the Borderline,' a hostess greeted us. 'Just the two of you tonight?'
Elliot was standing behind her inside the dimmed foyer. We saw each other at the same moment. His mouth smiled but his eyes did not.
'Ladies,' he said, sanding his hands together as he walked over. 'Looking magnificent, as always.'
My skin prickled.
'Where's your partner in crime?' Vee asked, glancing around the foyer. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and a mural of a Mexican pueblo spanned two walls. The waiting benches were filled to capacity. There was no sign of Jules.
'Bad news,' said Elliot. 'The man is sick. You're going to have to settle for me.'
'Sick?' Vee demanded. 'How sick? What kind of excuse is sick?'
'Sick as in it's coming out both ends.'
Vee scrunched her nose. 'Too much information.'
I was still having a difficult time grasping the idea that something was going on between Vee and Jules. Jules came across sullen, brooding, and completely disinterested in Vee's company or anyone else's. Not one part of me felt comfortable with the idea of Vee spending time alone with Jules. Not necessarily because of how unpleasant he was or how little I knew about him, but because of the one thing I did know: He was close friends with Elliot.
The hostess plucked three menus out of a slotted cubbyhole and led us to a booth so close to the kitchen I could feel the fire of the ovens coming through the walls. To our left was the salsa bar. To our right glass doors moist with condensation led out to a patio. My poplin blouse was already clinging to my back. My sweat might have
