Page 47 of Reading Between the Lines
“Well? Do we have a deal?”
It was the blond politician-smiling boy who answered, speaking to his friends. “These guys are investigators. Londyn and I met them yesterday after school.”
Tallus shoved in front of me. “Whoa. Did you say Londyn?”
“Yeah.” He nodded to the blonde-haired girl across the table from him. “My sister.”
Tallus whipped around to face her. “We’ve heard about you. I mean, it has to be you. There can’t possibly be two Londyn’s in this small town. You were dating Weston Mandel, right?”
“I…” Londyn glanced at her brother. The girl was as doe-eyed and blank-faced as she’d been the previous day. Delaney’s assessment was spot on. Not much happening between the ears for Londyn Brydges.
“Do we have a deal?” I interjected before Tallus rolled out of control.
“By all means, gentlemen. We have nowhere to be, and I’m not one to turn down free food and drinks. What do you guys think?” the brother asked his friends. “Mind chatting with these fine folks?”
They all agreed, and once their orders were placed, the waitress scurried off like she couldn’t wait to be somewhere else.
“Pull up a chair,” Guy Smiley said, motioning to available seats at an empty table. “How can we help you on this fine snow day.”
Tallus grabbed a chair and put himself at their level—the buddy, the pal, the I’m-your-friend. I chose to stand, figuring a looming presence might encourage less bullshit and more cooperation. Our tactics conflicted, and it was immediately clear that Tallus’s nonthreatening approach was better.
He introduced himself and offered to shake their hands. Guy Smiley’s name was Loyal. Fucking Loyal. If he didn’t grow up to be a real politician one day, it would be a missed opportunity.
“I should have guessed you were siblings when we met yesterday,” Tallus said. “You look alike.”
“They’re twins,” a boxy kid next to Londyn said. He had a short stature and the body of an athlete. I would bet money he played on the high school football team. His leather jacket sported an emblem of a dog gnawing what looked like a chunk of wood, the wordsBark Bossembroidered under it. It didn’t sound like a team name, but what did I know.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Duke Wilson. How about you, big guy? You know, since we’re sharing.”
“Diem.”
The only other girl at the table smirked. “Like, Carpe Diem? O.M.G, did you guys ever see that movie with those boarding school kids? My dad was watching it the other day. It’s, like, really old, but there’s this teacher who—”
“Oh, Captain, my captain,” Loyal said, interrupting and saluting me with a wink like it was a joke we were both in on.
“Yes!” The girl squealed at an inhuman decibel. “That’s the one.”
“I saw that,” said the boy on her other side as he doodled on a napkin. “It’s a Robin Williams flick. It was okay. Dated.”
Likely sensing my fraying control, Tallus spoke. “Hang on. Let me get names straight.” He pointed at the twins. “Londyn and Loyal.” He motioned to the guy next to Londyn. “Duke.” He pointed to the squealy girl beside Loyal.
“Noel,” she said. Noel’s mahogany hair had been ironed flat. Her long bangs partly blocked her left eye. She wore unnecessary makeup and thick lip gloss that shimmered like the ice outside. The way she cozied close to Loyal, I guessed they might be an item.
The boy on her other side, who was busy sketching anime figures onto a napkin, called himself Chett. Chett wore a forehead full of pimples and wireframed glasses that kept slipping down his nose while he worked, forcing him to nudge them back in place every few minutes. He had poured a small mound of sugar from the dispenser onto the table beside his art and continuously licked the tip of his baby finger and dunked it into the grains before licking it off.
The last of the group, and the only one who had yet to speak, called himself Atlas. Atlas had the watchful eyes of a hawk but the shaggy presence of a Highland cow. When he shared his name, the deep, resonant tone of his voice caught me off guard. Unlike the other three teen boys, Atlas’s voice had undergone the full change of adulthood. He sounded much older than he appeared.
The waitress delivered drinks—an array of pop, coffee, and orange juice. When she left again, Noel asked, “So what’s this about?”
Tallus checked in to see how I wanted to handle the situation. Knowing he would likely make better progress with the teens, I nodded for him to proceed, but Loyal spoke before Tallus got a chance.
“The captain and our friend Tallus here have been hired by West’s mom to investigate his accident. I’m guessing she didn’t like what the police had to say, am I right?”
I glared at the kid for the uncalled-for nickname, but his remark showed intuition, so I bit back a comment.
“Yes,” Tallus confirmed. “She asked us to look into some things.” To Londyn, he said, “And you two were dating, isn’t that right?”
