Page 60 of The Amendment

His resolve disappeared for a half second, but like a pro himself, he managed to disguise it. He blinked rapidly, clearing his throat again. “Um, you did?” His nervous laugh grated my nerves. “Yeah, she dropped…last season, I guess. I assumed you knew?”

“I didn’t,” I said, clasping my hands in my lap. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to remain still when all I wanted to do was lunge across the desk and claw his eyeballs out with my bare hands. “Did she tell you why she dropped out? She’s always loved dancing so much. It’s quite a shock to us, as you can imagine.”

The color drained from his face. “I, well, yeah… It was a shock to me, too. She was one of my stars. But I had to respect her choice. She didn’t really give me an answer. I can try to talk to her, if you want.”

“No,” I said too quickly, then repeated it in a soft, slow croon. “No.I’ll take care of that. You’resobusy, I mean.” I batted my eyelashes at him, leaning forward and sticking out my chest, though he hardly seemed to notice. In fact, he scooted back in his chair, farther away from me. Perhaps I was too old for his tastes.

“Well, I’d love to have her back here. We miss her.”

“She mentioned a lot of her friends had quit, too. Bailey and Jennessa… Any idea about them?”

Beads of sweat had begun forming on his upper lip. He shook his head, forcing a charming, albeit terrified, grin. “No. Nope. I never really got an answer. You know how young girls are…”

“Howarethey?” I asked, unable to control myself. The condescending tone of his voice was nails on a chalkboard.

“Hm?” His brows shot up.

“Well, I mean, to be frank, I’d assume you’d know.”

He adjusted in his chair, tugging at his pant legs as he released a nervous laugh. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just mean you work with them all day, after all.”

“Oh, right.” He glanced at the floor. “Yeah. Sorry…” He paused, drawing in a breath. For a moment, we were quiet and he patted his legs awkwardly, looking around the room. “Hey, was there something else I could help you with? I forgot I actually do have a meeting to get to after this.”

A meeting.I scoffed internally, pushing up from my chair.

“Of course. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask you about one more thing.”

“Sure.” He stood, too.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone.

He leaned forward as I scrolled through my photos, searching for the one I’d found on Maisy’s phone the night before after she’d fallen asleep.

I couldn’t blame Maisy for lying to me about the things he’d sent her. From what I could see, the conversations had been mainly one sided, but still, I would’ve been mortified to tell my mother what happened, too.

“Ah, here it is. Can you tell me… Is this yours?” I flashed the screen at him.

“What the hell?” As he leaned in, I slipped the syringe out of my sleeve and plunged it into his neck. He staggered backward, a hand pressed to the injection site, his eyes wide. I had to hope it worked as quickly as the Internet said it would. “What the hell?” he repeated. “What did you do?” He took a wobbly step toward me, but froze, staring up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly.

I grinned.

It was working.

When going through the boxes Jim had left behind, we’d come across several filled with vials of a clear substance. On a whim, we’d searched for their uses using his phone—couldn’t have anything traced back to us, after all—and were pleasantly surprised to find out that the vials held a particularly nasty sedative.

It was all that we’d kept from Jim’s many packages, but, as luck would have it, it was all we’d need. From what we’d read, just a drop could tranquilize an elephant.

I’d guessed on the dosage.

“I can…explain…” His words came out garbled, as if he were choking. He didn’t need to say a word. The confession was in his mortified expression. I didn’t need any further proof—I’d seen it all on her phone—but I wanted him to know I knew. Wanted him to understand why this was happening.

“It’s okay. I think I get the picture. Pun intended.” I wrinkled my nose at him playfully.

“You’ve…got it all wrong.” He checked his palm, then placed it back on the injection site, gripping the desk to keep from collapsing. “What did you do? What did you give me? I’m calling the police.” He reached for the top drawer, pulling it open and tumbling sideways.

“Go right ahead. I have plenty of pictures and text messages to show them. You’d actually be saving me a phone call.”

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