Page 26 of For Dear Life

But first, I need to discover Holly’s involvement. I refuse to believe a human fooled me, despite evidence that suggests otherwise.

Holly arrives back at the room late afternoon, carrying several paper bags adorned with store logos, and I watch with half-interest as she unpacks yet more items of clothing. No wonder she requires such a large space for her closet. Holly sings to herself as she lays a short green dress onto her rainbow bedspread and produces a multi-colored necklace and earrings that she arranges to create an outfit.

“Another party to attend?” I ask, with both hope and dread.

“A date.”

“With Pursuit?”

She pulls a disparaging face. “His name is Chase, Violet.”

“Uh huh.” I feign disinterest and write in my notebook.

“Do you go on dates?” she asks.

The pencil almost snaps in my hand. “Dates?”

“With your guys.”

“We sometimes go for dinner while investigating, I suppose,” I reply and return to my doodling. Once. With Rowan. Under duress.

“I mean, do you ever go to the movies, bowling… I don’t know, like, ordinary things.”

This time, I turn to look at my auburn-haired, shiny-eyed ‘friend’. She sits on her desk chair too and watches expectantly.

Interesting. Is Holly instructed to keep tabs on my whereabouts? Perhaps ensure that I’m in the right location and ready for a murderous incident to occur?

“Ordinary things?” I purse my lips.

“Oh, okay. Graveyard picnics.” She chuckles. “Long walks in the woods.”

Hmm. “Why would you suggest that I like the woods, Holly?”

“Uh. Because there’re popular walking trails with romantic spots to sit.”

“And the occasional murder site,” I remind her.

“Oh. I guess. Any closer with your investigations?” Holly gestures at the now bare wall. “Do you have an answer and that’s why you took down the notes?”

“My father wanted to read them,” I say casually. “He’s pissed. Told me he doesn’t care what or who’s involved, human or supe, but that he’ll make an example of them.”

Is she paler at that comment? Hard to tell under the amount of foundation and contouring she again attempted to teach me.

“I wouldn’t like to think what an ‘example’ made of by Dorian Blackwood involves.” She shudders, then slants her head. “Why are you looking at me in that way, Violet? Have I upset you?”

“You know this is how I look most of the time.”

“Ah, yes. Violet Blackwood, World’s Greatest RBF.”

More teenage code. A human accolade I’ve no interest in receiving since she’s amused and not solemn.

Holly busies herself swapping more earrings and necklaces with each other on the bed, before wandering into her closet, re-emerging with a scarf. A leopard print one. Is there significance to these scarves?

“Are you wearing that dress to your date?” I ask her.

“This is for a dinner with Chase later in the week. I’m wearing boring jeans tonight, but I can still find a cute top.” Again, she ambles into her closet, re-emerging with an armful of multi-colored sweaters, several pairs of ‘boring jeans’, along with a pair of black ankle boots tucked beneath her chin.

I perk up. Tonight. “Can I come on your date, Holly?”

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