“It must have been a good party,” AmberLea says. We’re all crowded in the tiny front hall of O’Toole Central. They’ve followed me back in a Porsche Cayenne with a ski container on top; it only took six tries to start the van. Now we’re going to have mac and cheese.
Toby shrugs. “I don’t know. By standards in my dorm, a level three.” He grins. Perfect teeth. Still, he’s eyeing O’Toole Central as if it’s as sketchy as the Baby Breeze. I’m also not so crazy about him getting a video shot of me doing a Cowardly Lion on top of a counter, even if the guy did do a primo move slamming that door on the gator. All I say, though, is, “It wasn’t a party. I think somebody searched the place last night while we were at the rink.”
“Searched for what?” AmberLea drapes her jacket over the newel post Jer’s never finished refinishing. Then she goes and straightens the sofa cushions. She pulls a chip bag and two empty iced-tea tins out from underneath. I don’t tell her those are my mess from watching movies last night.
“I haven’t got a clue,” I say, watching Toby arrange his jacket on a hanger. I drop mine on the floor. “They trashed my mom’s office too.”
I go into the kitchen, stash a mug and two glasses in the sink because the dishwasher’s full, then square a pile of DVD cases on the table, on top of where the salt spilled. Now things look tidier.
AmberLea comes in. I heat water in a saucepan and tell them the story, from going skating with Bunny on. Then I show them the texts. “Now I don’t know what to think,” I finish. “Maybe my mom’s right. That motel is pretty close to Posse territory. It could be their grow op. Drugs are their thing.”
“So you think Jade was hinting how to find Bunny without ratting anyone out?” AmberLea has pulled her chin in again.
“Maybe.” I shrug. The water is boiling. I dump in the macaroni. AmberLea opens drawers until she finds cutlery.
“But that was dangerous,” she said. “Would she set you up? Whoever runs that grow op wouldn’t have been happy to see you.”
“Maybe she tipped them. Maybe she thought they’d be gone, or that only Bun would be there. It looked as if Bun’s phone got dropped there by accident.”
“But—” She stops. She’s just found the plates. “Okay. If Bunny’s with Fifteenth Street, why did they search here?”
“Beats me. Just out of habit?” I stir the macaroni with a wooden spoon. “Bun might not have known they searched downstairs.” I’m beginning to buy this myself. The mess doesn’t seem as sinister with other people around and mac and cheese on the way. “And maybe Bun has shoes I forgot.”
“What do you think, T?” AmberLea turns to Toby.
He’s sitting at the table, staring at my cell-phone screen.
He murmurs, “SPCA. Maybe we should have called them about that alligator.”
“It’ll be fine,” AmberLea says. “I left it lots to snack on.” Toby isn’t listening. He has his own phone out now, pecking away with his thumbs. The macaroni is ready. I kill the heat, drain the water and open the cheese packets. AmberLea gets milk and butter from the fridge.
“SPCA,” Toby says again as I bring the pot of mac and cheese to the table. He reads off his cell screen:
“Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
Serum Prothrombin Conversion Accelerator
Symposium on Pervasive Computing and Applications
Short Posterior Ciliary Artery
Structural Pest Control Act
Student Paper Competition Award
Security Policy Compliance Assessment
Save Pianvia Counterrevolutionary Army.”
“Uh-oh,” I say.