Page 13 of Road Queens
“Oh, please.”
“Don’t roll your eyes. That’s so mean, Sid. I could be a criminal mastermind,” Amanda replied, stung.
“Or he thinks you’re the weak link. Crack you to get the goods on all of us.” Sidney paused. “If there were goods to get. Which there aren’t.” She let the silence stretch for a few seconds. “Right?”
“Or it could be because you’re super cute,” Cassandra pointed out.
“That’s a lie and you know it. All right, let’s figure this out. Detective Sean Beane is either a caring, sensitive fella who understood he nabbed the wrong gal, or he’s just really bad at his job,” Amanda declared.Or he’s stalking me to get to Cassandra. Wouldn’t be the first time.Cass stood out in every room. Every. Single. Room. Even hungover. Even back when her scar was still livid stitches across her face. The rotten bitch didn’t even try, and Amanda had lost count of the times some jerkoff chatted her up to get close to her Amazonian (former) pal.
“Or both,” Sidney pointed out. “He can be both.”
Amanda was already waving him over. “Hi, Detective Sean Beane who is going to change his name to Brian or Jeff or Agnes or Beverly and squash the curse once and for all.” Then lower: “There aren’t enough curds and onions to go around.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve got two bags fu—”
“Shush, Cass!”
“Sorry,” Beane said as he approached the table. “I’m not changing it. And it’s way too early for onion rings and salad, but thanks anyway.”
“Nobody offered you salad,” Sidney muttered.
“Have it your way, Detective.” Amanda again had the sensation she’d seen him before, which was no less puzzling than the first time it happened. “Welcome to Freedom Park. Want the tour? Here’s the park. End of tour.”
“My family used to live forty miles from here. I’m aware Freedom Park exists.” He took them in with a half smile, detritus and all. “I hope I’m not interrupting your weird breakfast.”
“Nope.” Sidney speared more salad, then chewed same. “We were just talking about Virgil Abloh.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “No, we weren’t.”
Sidney ignored her rebuttal. “I’ve got nothing but respect for a trained architect who turned to fashion because he wanted to hang out with Kanye.”
“Actually, I think he prefers to be called—”
“Don’t care. Okay, fine, you got us; we weren’t talking Abloh.”
There was a short silence, broken by Amanda: “We were ... um. We were reminiscing about the time Cass lost her virginity under that tree.”
“Dammit, Amanda! How many times? It wasthattree.”
“Sorry, Cass. Got myPinus strobusmixed up with myBetula pendula.”
Cass crossed her arms and glared. “Not to mention we didn’t even go all the way.”
“Did too. We settled this while we were in high school, Cassandra. Getting and/or giving head counts as sex.” Amanda looked up at the cop, who—was that a blush? Naw. Probably the heat. “It was nice of you to drop Cass off in the middle of your shift. If that’s what you did. Are you side hustling as an Uber driver?”
“Naw. He wants to sign me as a client, thus the free ride.”
“You need a lawyer, not a dick,” Sidney pointed out.
“Not a dick,” Amanda corrected. “Dedicated officer sworn to uphold the peace.”
“Not really.” He smiled at her, which was devastating in all the right ways. “You don’t remember me, do you, Ms.Miller?”
So it wasn’t my imagination.Amanda threw a triumphant glance at Sidney, who just took another bite of her salad and masticated, blank faced. “Of course I do. We met an hour ago.”
“I meant before today. You don’t, right?”
“Of course I do. I never forget a face,” Amanda lied again.
