Page 46 of Brutal Kingdom

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Tabitha. You’re right. It was crappy of me to use the things you told me in confidence against you. But I needed leverage and the stuff you said was the only thing I could use, without…”

“Without what?”

“I used what I had, okay.”

She slides into the chair across from me. “No, that’s not what you were gonna say. You used what I told you in confidence and were willing to share it with the world because what?”

“I couldn’t find anything else.”

“That’s crazy, because there're tons of shit you could find with a little research. Shit that people speculate about all the time. Throw a rock in any direction and you can drag up dirt on my family.”

“My focus wasn’t on your family. Just you and how your actions could hurt or embarrass them. I did my research. Used connections. Tracked your movements. I even had someone hacking guest relations at your hotels to see if I could find anything and I didn’t.”

She sits back, mouth gaping open. “You tracked my movements off campus?”

“Yes.”

She mulls over what I said. “And didn’t find anything you could use.”

“That’s right, not even when you took the train to New York, instead of taking your midterms.”

She pales when I mention the city, quickly gathering her muffin and coffee. “Uh, I gotta go.”

I reach out a hand when she walks by. “I really am sorry.”

She nods stiffly and walks away.

My apology was sincere. Tabitha is the one person I’m sorry for threatening. She confided in me, and I recorded our conversations, then went and wrote it all down, word for word, prepared to release it to the world. The feelings she shared with me were honest and raw, like she would write in the pages of her diary. If she still kept one. I also included an excerpt in my file about why she doesn’t keep a diary.

It was a betrayal, but it was also the safest thing I could share about her. Because I know exactly where she was in the city and what she was doing. If that information got out… I shake my head to clear it of thewhat ifscenarios going through it.

I finish my coffee and dump my empty parfait container in the trash. My ride should be here soon. As long as we don’t run into any traffic, I’ll have a few minutes to myself before my interview. Tony Parker was disappointed when I didn’t apply to be his intern over the summer. He’s opening a studio in Ridgestone Crest, and I’m hoping to get a seasonal job during the Christmas break. The work experience and being associated with him will look great on my resume.

I’m determined to have my license by then. Driving myself to the studio and his local gigs will save me time and money. I usually catch a cab when I leave campus or Pepper sends her driver. But today, I’m splitting the cost with three other students in a ride share van. I’m hesitant to travel alone after what happened the night they chased me into The Rift. The guy who interrogated me might still be watching, waiting for a chance to grab me again.

Wouldn’t you like that?Asks a tiny voice inside my head. I shut that bitch down with a hard no. No, I wouldnotlike to be chased like prey and made to doubt my sanity when I realize I’m horny because of it.No,I wouldn’t like to be scared to death and panting for some psycho stranger to fuck me like a dog in heat.No, no,a hundred timesno!

The voice sits back and snickers.Are you sure about that?

The interview with Tony is quick and fun and not to toot my own horn, but I think I nailed the shit out of it. I’ve never been to Ridgestone Crest, even though it’s only about a ninety-minute drive from Kingsley Bluffs. From my vantage point, I can see they hit the jackpot when it comes to scenic views. I decide to walk through town, since I have time to kill before the van comes to take us back.

After walking for twenty minutes, I come to a pier. Pulling out my phone, I snap a few quick shots before sitting to watch people paddling in kayaks and anchored out in the middle of the lake.

I feel a tingle on the back of my neck. The same one I had the other night. As if I’m being watched. I turn to see if I can spot whoever it is, but all I see are people walking around. Agh. This is crazy. I refuse to hype myself into hysteria. I’m okay. The guy from that night isn’t here. Nobody’s watching me.

My next stop is the twelve story library and observatory. Twelve floors of books and media and an observatory on the top where you can look out over the town or up at the stars. This town is amazing and I would’ve liked it way better than the bluffs. Why didn’t mom move us here?

The library’s pretty empty since it’s still the middle of the day. Aside from the kids here on a school field trip, I have the place to myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve read anything for fun. I walk through the stacks, starting on the ground floor, determined to see just how many books and topics one library carries that require twelve floors.

You can use the ramp, stairs or the elevator to move from one floor to the other. I choose the ramp, since I’m wearing a comfortable pair of wedges. I wander around from stack to stack and floor to floor. Sometimes stopping to read the description of an interesting sounding book.

On the sixth floor, I linger in the mystery section. Dad loved a good mystery or suspense story. Sometimes we’d buddy read and write our theories on a piece of paper, sealing them in an envelope. I loved when we’d finally finish the book, order takeout, then unveil our guesses. Dad was a way better faster guesser than I was. I found it hard to commit to an answer, because I always wanted to follow each and every clue to the end.

I have an idea. I skim the first ten chapters of the book, then pull out a piece of paper, explaining the game, and jotting down my theory of who the killer is. Placing it between the front pages of the book. It’s silly, and whoever checks the book out will probably think it’s nuts, but doing it makes me feel closer to my dad.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice still makes my stomach flip. I ignore it and his question, moving on to another shelf of books.

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