First Girl Gone(51)
“That’s it? A look?” Charlie blinked. “You’re sure there wasn’t something that set you off?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You were on edge when I saw you this morning. And then I watched you storm out of the house tonight. An hour later, you start a brawl at O’Malley’s. Is there something other than the stuff with Amber that’s bothering you?”
Jason wasn’t making eye contact, but she could see the muscles of his jaw tense. There was something. The question was, how far could she push him?
“Maybe you had an argument with someone? Your mom? Or maybe a friend or girlfriend?”
His neck swung around as he turned to face her, and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her. But then his expression clouded again. Pivoting away from her, he addressed Zoe.
“Am I free to go?”
“You need to sign for your personal effects.” Zoe held up a plastic baggie containing his wallet and keys. “And honestly, I think you ought to hear—”
Jason stalked over and scribbled his signature on the clipboard before yanking the baggie from Zoe’s grip. As he strode to the door, Charlie hurried to step in his path.
“Jason, wait.”
He paused and leaned in close enough that she could smell the beer on his breath.
“My parents are rich idiots who think they can solve every problem by throwing money at it, so this is between you and them. Leave me out of it.”
The door slammed behind him, and Charlie watched him stalk out of the station.
“You think he knows something?” Zoe asked. “About his sister’s disappearance, I mean?”
“Maybe. Or it could just be that he’s a spoiled kid with no coping skills. I don’t think he has the best role models at home, to be honest.”
Zoe nodded.
“That stuff about his parents solving all their problems by throwing money at them? You should have heard the dad down here this morning, going on and on about how much money he’s donated to the police fundraisers over the years.”
Charlie’s mind wandered back to searching Amber’s pretty princess room. But there’d been secrets underneath the sugary sweetness, hadn’t there? The cigarette she’d found in the music box and the matchbook from the Red Velvet Lounge.
“What do you know about the Red Velvet Lounge?”
“The strip joint?”
“Yeah.”
“I hear there are scantily clad women who will dance for money.”
“There were apparently rumors around school that Kara was working at a club, and from the sound of it, the Red Velvet Lounge fits the bill. Then I found a matchbook for the very same club in Amber Spadafore’s room.”
Zoe raised an eyebrow.
“I hate to say this, but that is some extremely weak sauce.”
“I know, but it’s the only thing I’ve found so far that might connect the two girls.”
Zoe reached up to adjust her glasses, then folded her arms over her chest.
“So go over there and check it out.”
“I already did.” Charlie leaned one shoulder against the wall. “They wouldn’t let me in. They figured me out for a snoop, somehow.”
“Or they thought you were a jealous girlfriend or wife. A lot of clubs don’t let women in if they’re not with a man.”
Charlie cocked her head to one side.
“You know this from experience?”
“Actually, yes. It’s not really my scene, personally, but I dated a chick who was all about it. We were denied entry at several clubs because we weren’t escorted by a man.”
“Interesting.”
Charlie had been operating under the assumption that the bouncers knew she was there looking for dirt. Maybe they’d simply been worried she was there to stir up other kinds of trouble. If that was the case, there might be a chance she could still get in. She just had to find a man willing to escort her.
And she knew just the one.
“Whoa,” Zoe said.
“What?”
“You had this look on your face. It… reminded me so much of Allie. It was just eerie.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
In bed, Charlie drifted toward sleep. A warmth settled over her body, starting in her core before spreading to her limbs and, finally, her cheeks. A kind of calm seemed to accompany this swell of heat—the weight of the blanket, too, bringing her some deep sense of peace and tranquility.
Still, one little niggling voice stayed active in her mind. Allie’s voice. Her sister kept probing, kept talking, kept replaying the various dramas that had unfolded tonight in and around the Ritter household. The family had certainly packed a lot of excitement into one evening. Allie laid it all out again.
“First, there’s the affair—Sharon Ritter sneaking a man into her bedroom while her husband plays with trains in the basement.”
She clicked her tongue, as though checking a box before moving on to the next item on her list.
“Then there’s the brother’s outburst—after a tumultuous phone call, Jason Spadafore smashes his phone before rushing off and getting into a brawl at a local bar. Beating some guy’s head in with a pool cue.”
Another tongue click.