Page 24 of Single Chance

Her speech wasn’t slurred or affected. I didn’t smell alcohol. I would smell it, wouldn’t I?

She didn’t reply, but I suspected it was out of anger, not guilt.

Was I being naive?

I stared at her, searching for any signs I’d missed.

“What?” she bit out, whipping her head toward me.

What, indeed?

Where did I start? How did I handle this?

“I said I didn’t drink anything.” Every word was laced with indignation as she met my gaze.

Seconds ticked by as she glared at me.

“I believe you,” I said.

As she looked away, she lowered her chin and crossed her arms. “Can we just go?”

I glanced toward the dark restrooms, which were closed for the winter. I didn’t see any kids, but I was sure they were still there. “I should call the police.”

“Oh, my God. Just kill me now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Don’t be a nark. Haven’t you destroyed my social life enough tonight?”

“Is Lacey there?”

My daughter went silent.

“She is,” I guessed.

What the hell was the right move here? Should I call Lacey’s mom? I didn’t know the woman from Eve, but I had her number.

If our roles were reversed, I’d want a phone call. I’d want to know my daughter was on the beach drinking.

I pulled out my phone, located Lacey’s mom’s number, and hit Call. It went through on the Bluetooth, so the ringing sounded throughout the vehicle.

“Dad, what are you doing?” my daughter nearly shrieked. “Don’t call the cops.”

The call rang and rang. I put the SUV in gear and did a U-turn, driving toward home as I waited to leave a message, for whatever good that would do.

“Dad!”

The woman’s voice mail message came on, short, sweet, not particularly confidence-inspiring.

“Hello,” I said at the tone. “This is Chance Cordova, Sam’s dad. We talked on New Year’s Eve. I just wanted to let you know I found our daughters with a group on the beach. There’s apparently alcohol involved. I’m taking Sam home, but the other kids are still there. I thought you should know.”

“I doubt her mom will even care,” Samantha said after I hit End.

“She doesn’t care if her fourteen-year-old daughter gets drunk with a group that includes boys?”

“She trusts her daughter.”

My brows shot up as I turned a corner. “Her trust is obviously misplaced.”

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