TWENTY-TWO 

 

I knew when and where Chaz and Monique were going to meet. I thought about going and trying to spy on them to find out more. But I was tired, tired of all this mess.

I could do nothing, just keep my head down, do my internship. This had nothing to do with me, did it? I didn’t owe anybody anything, did I?

I dug in my purse for that stapled packet Bosley had given me back in school. It was wrinkled and folded and had some random stains on it. I read the letter from Harmon Holt again.

… you’re good at finding things out—especially when you smell a rat. I could use those talents at Polichat right now …

Did Harmon Holt already know what Chaz had going on? Had he been asking me to find this stuff out? What if I didn’t tell and I got in trouble too?

I could talk to Monique myself, but would she even believe me? I didn’t really have any proof. And wouldn’t that just make Holt look bad, anyway?

I flipped through the pages of the packet. I never even looked at this stuff, and I wasn’t interested now. All I was looking for was Bosley’s number.