“I think something might have happened at the party.”
“What party?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a party,” Riley says. “Not at first. It started out as a sleepover.”
I study my potential client. She’s cute, in a blonde, surfer, little sister sort of way. Her hair’s parted in the middle, and falls over narrow shoulders. She’s thin, willowy, with smallish breasts, perfect teeth, and wide-set amber eyes.
I love amber eyes. Did you know they’re the fourth rarest of all colors in human eyes? I know weird things like that. I also know amber eyes are the most common color among wolves’ eyes.
I remove a pen and legal pad from my desk drawer and say, “When was the sleepover?”
“Last Saturday night.”
“Who’s house?”
“Kelli Underhill.”
“Were her parents there?”
“Her mom.”
“Who was invited?”
“Four girls were invited. Me, Jennie Cox, Cammi Churra, and Parker Page. Parker’s my best friend. She left at midnight.”
“Any boys?”
She bites the corner of her lip. Then says, “Some boys came by later.”
“How old were they?”
“High school juniors and seniors.”
“Seventeen?”
She nods.
“Were any of them eighteen?”
“I don’t think so.”
“And you’re what, seventeen?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you know these boys?”
“They go to my school. Carson Collegiate.”
“You said something might have happened at the sleepover Saturday night.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell me.”
YOU ARE READING
Promise You Won't Tell?
Teen Fiction"I think something might have happened to me Saturday night. Something bad." Private Investigator Dani Ripper's client list is nuttier than the Looney Tunes conga line, but she diligently solves one crazy case after another, waiting for a game-chang...
