Page 33 of The Catcher
“Mrs. Peterson?”
“Who?”
“You know, the brunette behind the counter at the café. I’ve seen the way she eyes you.”
Noah laughed. “That’s because she has a wonky eye.”
Mia chuckled. Noah strolled over to the window and peered out. “I’m sorry about being late yesterday.”
“You showed. That’s all that matters.”
He noticed a couple of law books on her desk. He scooped one up and thumbed through it. “Already?”
“I’m getting a head start. The more I know, the better my studies will be later.”
“I’m proud of you. I know I gave you a bit of a hard time when you first told me about pursuing it, but that’s only because I wanted to save you the heartache of the job. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Mia.”
“I know. You were once a glorified pen pusher.”
He laughed. “Who told you that?”
“Callie. She said it. At least that’s how she refers to herself now that she’s back on patrol.”
“Sounds about right. Have you been speaking with her?”
“A female deputy? Of course. You always said it’s good to have role models.”
His lip curled. “It is. Just don’t place her too high on that pedestal. We tend to let people down in the profession.”
He turned to walk out.
“Was that it?” Mia asked.
“What?”
“You just came in to tell me about supper tonight?”
“Oh, no. Um, Pete Landry and Hailey Matthews. You know much about them and their friends?”
She set her book down. “Ah, you’re looking for the inside scoop.”
“Something like that.”
“I know of them. I mean, everyone does. They’re that rowdy group you see at lunchtime, the ones who take up an entire long table even though they don’t need it all. The ones who stroll down the hallway, parting everyone like the Red Sea, shoving a few into lockers and jeering like they’re some gladiators. Those invited into the fold are either spat out the other side worse off, or they become mirror versions of them. Either way, it’s creepy.”
“You ever chatted with them?”
“Hell, no! I avoided them like the plague — like most people. Besides, they tended to hang out at football games, after-school practice, and whatever. You know, go Dragons!” she said, calling out the name of the school mascot. Mia scrolled through her phone and showed him a few snapshots from a past game. “That’s Landry, number 55.” Noah watched as a group of players rushed onto the field in grey and green, with green smoke furling up into the air.
“And his closest pals?”
“Besides his girlfriend, there’s Colt Banning, Mischa Redka, Addison Sterling, and Tyler Ashford.”
“Ashford? The Ashfords, as in Luther Ashford?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. That’s his grandfather.”
Noah considered the implications. There were always implications when it came to the Ashfords. Having a powerful family in your back pocket to sweep away wrongdoing was advantageous in more ways than one. For a family member, that was like having an all-access card to everything.
