Page 14 of My Girl
I’ve never trusted cops. Growing up in Las Vegas, I’ve seen corruption firsthand. Give a man money or power, and he’ll switch sides, doing exactly what the boss wants him to do, even if it means selling his soul. Even my mother, whoalwaysdoes the right thing, used her position as Director of Operations to save my ass multiple times. I was stealing things from the cheaper guests long before I moved up to the higher paying clients, and my mother always blamed the housekeepers. That way she didn’t have to deal with the fallout, and I got to keep doing what I loved most. It was easier for both of us.
I drive to the mall and suck down a peppermint mocha flavored coffee, my brain wandering over the Michael Hall murder-suicide details. It’s not like proving his innocence will give me peace.
But it will prove my mother wrong.
He must have been good enough for you to fuck him,I had said to my mother. Her jaw dropped, her hand clutching a tube of toothpaste like it was a life preserver. Power swelled inside of me then. She hates it when I curse, and I knew that little f-bomb would get her attention, especially since she was helping me pack for my move to Pahrump.Did you see the violence with your own eyes, Mother? Did you see my father murder his cheating wife?
The police aren’t going to lie about something like that,she had said, raising her voice.He was a bad man, Rae. There’s a reason I kept him from you.
It was one of the few times she yelled at me. Energy had rumbled inside of me, knowing that I had finally stirred a reaction in her.
Even now, my chest vibrates, needing more of that.
I guide my car to my usual parking spot, but something in the back of the mall’s parking lot catches my eye. Something different. Near the Galloway House.
A chain-link fence.
What the fuck?
I drive closer, then park at the edge of the parking lot, as close to the house as possible. A mall cop—dark hair, average height, broad shoulders—paces around the perimeter, muttering to himself. A padlock is clutched in his hand. A stun gun hangs on his belt next to dangling handcuffs.
Can a mall cop even arrest someone?
I scoff. He’s the type of man that wants toactlike he has that power when he can’t actually do anything. He’d probably try to arrest a trespasser of the house. It’s sad, really.
And irritating.
I get out of my car, heading toward the open gate before the mall cop can lock it up.
“Ma’am,” he barks, his southern accent alarming. “You can’t go in there.”
“Oh,” I say. I press my legs together, drawing his attention to my sheer stockings, teasing out of my short skirt. He sneers, and I tuck my hair behind my ear, pretending to be shy. “I was just going to check on it. The mall owner, Ned”—I say, dropping his name in hopes that it’ll make the mall cop give me some slack—“he left his jacket in there.”
“That so?” the mall cop says, his dark eyes fixed on me like he can read through my lies. Like he knows exactly where I was last night.
My face grows hot.
He doesn’t know anything,I tell myself.You can figure him out.
He straightens his shoulders, an act of dominance to show off his physique, when in reality, he’s only a few inches taller than me. Heismore muscular than I am though; his chest is visibly toned, and a middle-aged man like him has to get credit for that. His age shows; white hair feathers his temples, and the rest of his black hair is arched into a widow’s peak, like a sad, wannabe Dracula. The strong stench of cheap cologne creates a fog around him. A clean-shaven face. His uniform is stiff too, freshly ironed, like he takes his job in mall security very seriously. He probably likes to call himself “Officer” too.
A chill runs down my spine. I don’t trust anyone in positions of authority, even mall cops.
“I’m just doing a favor for Ned,” I say.
“I follow the rules, ma’am,” the mall cop says, his words blunt. “No one goes in there, besides Mr. Ned. If Mr. Ned left his jacket in there, thenI’llretrieve it. It’s not safe in there for a girl like you.”
A girl like me?
I laugh hard. His brows furrow together, and my fists ball at my sides, a metaphorical knife twisting inside of me.
He wants to belittle me because I’m a woman? All it would take is a few minutes alone with him, and I’d have him literally eating out of the palm of my hand. What’snotsafe is for him to be underestimating me like that.
I smile, my straight teeth perfectly exposed, the practiced smile I gave in corporate meetings at the Opulence, the same one I use with my valuable hookups too. Even Ned.
“You’re right,” I say in my sweetest voice. “I’ll make sure Ned knows you’re watching over this place so carefully.”
“Tell him I said hi.”
