CHAPTER 15

In the kitchen, Em and I were up to our ears in granola and chocolate-covered nuts when I heard the detective say, “I think she’s the one.”

I heard Alvarez’s footsteps into the kitchen as he spoke. “I found the shorts. I’m no fashion judge, but they seem to go with that red blouse.”

“Claire’s?” Smythe asked.

“Yep.”

Stuffing one more nut into my cheek, I ran forward to the edge of the cupboard door and looked out.

“Whrrugoon?” Em burbled as he chewed.

“Shh, I want to hear.”

“So then, Claire is our killer?” Alvarez asked.

“Not necessarily.” Smythe shook her head as she took her phone out and pushed some buttons. “Girls do borrow each other’s clothes. But it places reasonable doubt…Ronda? We found more stuff at the house. I can fill you in…Yes, we can have the place cleared within the hour…Okay.”

“What’s up?” Alvarez asked.

“Rogers says she’s bringing the girls back.”

“So Olivia is off the hook?” Alvarez asked.

“No and neither are we.” Smythe grinned. “Rogers and I are going to stick around and monitor the girls’ movements, at least until the surveillance team gets here.”

A surveillance team? I pushed the cupboard door open. It swung easier than I thought, and I clung to the bottom of the wood as it swayed out, past the countertop.

“Detective,” I yelped. “I have an idea.”

I felt fabric under my back paws and let go of the cabinet. Alvarez was holding a dishtowel up for me to fall onto, after which he deposited me onto the counter.

“Thank you. Perhaps you could ask the surveillance unit to pay special attention to Brina’s whereabouts? You might find out if she’s dealing drugs.”

“True, but what’s my reasoning? I can’t really tell them a mouse gave me the scoop.”

I sighed. “Just tell them you’ve got a feeling about her. How do you say it? That ‘you had a hunch.’ I mean, you did find those drugs in the bathroom.”

The detective stood near the couch, a red piece of fabric in her hands. Alvarez looked at her. She shrugged.

“I’ll do it if you don’t want to,” she said. “What will it hurt?”

“Nah.” Alvarez shook his head. “You claim the shorts, I’ll talk to surveillance. We’ll both either share the collar or the blame.”

By nightfall, the house was filled again, as the four young women had returned and, after long naps, busied themselves with showers, makeup and general frou-frou as they prepared to go out. Em and I agreed to split up. I’d watch Brina and he’d watch Claire. On my way to Brina’s room, I stopped by the eaves over the garage and studied the street.

It was narrow, much narrower than the street in front of my home in Riverside. A normal police car would not be able to park for normal surveillance. How would the police be able to keep an eye on us?

“Bri, have you got a flat iron?” Olivia yelled from her room.

“No, I think Ashley’s got one,” was her response.

I scampered over to Brina’s bedroom and peered in from a crack in the ceiling. Laying on the dresser, atop a hand towel, was a pink flat iron. Why would she lie? I was tempted to run to Olivia’s room and tattle, but I stopped. Instead, I stayed and watched.

No matter what kind of police surveillance Brina had tonight, I’d be following her every step.

Brina scrutinized her reflection in the mirror over the dresser, turning left and right, using a small sponge to dab at her face. Flipping her straight black hair behind her shoulders, she picked up the flat iron and squeezed the handle, twisting it open.

I leaned forward to see what was inside and saw her pull out a small pink bag, the same color as the flat iron. My left foot slipped down the wall and I half-fell, half-skidded to the floor. Brina gasped and turned toward the door, so I scooted under the bed and looked up at her.

She sighed in relief. “Get a grip, Bri.” Putting the pink bag in her black Prada purse and giving her form-fitting dress a tug, she sauntered out the door. I scampered after her, hugging the wall and stopping at corners to hide.

“It’s about time,” Olivia said from the porch, where she was sitting with Claire, Ashley, and a pitcher of something green. “We’ve got margaritas.”

I crawled into one of the planters and continued to watch the group from under a large red geranium.

“Ohmygod, I need this so much,” Ashley said as she poured another round in her glass. “That was intense.”

“I know, right?” Olivia ran her glass across her forehead. “My head’s on fire.”

Claire leaned forward. “What did they ask you?”

Olivia counted on her fingers. “How long did I know Leo Carter? What did I do yesterday? Can anyone vouch for where I was? Did I hate Leo Carter? Did any of you hate Leo?”

The rest of the women nodded. “Pretty much what they asked me,” Ashley said.

“Oh—and they wanted to know if I owned a red blouse.” Olivia frowned. “Red’s not my color.”

I saw Claire’s face turn pinker and her eyes twitched once. “I know! Why would they ask that?”

“Probably needed some fashion advice.” Brina cocked an eyebrow and reached for her drink. “The guys two doors down invited us to party. Want to go?”

“When did they invite us?” Ashley asked. “We were at the police station all day.”

Brina held up her phone. “Don’t be a dope. They texted. I told them where we were, they said they’d have pizza and White Claws to help us de-stress.”

“Nah.” Olivia waved her glass. “Imma stay here. I don’t feel like a party.”

“Why not? We’ve only got a day left here.” Brina frowned.

Olivia glared at her, and the silence grew uncomfortable, even for a mouse.

“A man was stabbed in my bedroom.” Each word was a harsh staccato. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” Brina shrugged. “You didn’t even like him.”

Olivia put her glass on the table, held her face in both hands and sobbed. I’d seen her throw tantrums at home when she didn’t get her way, but this was the first time I’d ever witnessed raw emotion from her. My first, odd instinct was to run to her for support, and it struck me how far our relationship had come in just two short days.

“What’s wrong?” Em whispered as he climbed into the planter with me.

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I watched Claire like you said, and when she left, I was going to follow, but something caught my eye.” He sat down and rubbed his ear.

“So, hurry and tell me,” I growled. “I think Brina’s going to leave and I’m going to have to chase after her.”

“I was watching Claire get ready—if these girls only knew the kinds of chemicals they were putting on their skin—anyway, Claire is putting on mascara, then she pulls a little bag from behind the mirror, looks at it, opens it, sighs, closes it, and puts it back.” He wiggled his whiskers. “Then she left. Naturally, I had to see what was in the bag.”

“What was it?”

“Some kind of powder. White.”

I nodded. “I think probably drugs. Too bad the police officers left. They were supposed to have a surveillance team here, but I haven’t seen any cars.”

“What should I do now?” he asked.

Brina got up and tugged at her skirt. “Do what you like, I’m going to get my party on.”

I turned to Em. “I have to follow Brina. You keep watch over Claire. If those officers come back, do you think you can talk to them?”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Em, it’s important. I can’t be here to talk for us. If Alvarez or Boyd show up, they need to know about the drugs in Claire’s room.”

His ears drooped, and his pink eyes got large. “I’ll try, Hazel. But I hope you come back before they do.”

Giving him a quick nuzzle, I said, “I have confidence in you. You’ve been a very brave mouse so far.”