Page 57 of Road Queens
“Way ahead of you,” Amanda retorted.
“Ow. Wait!” Sean yelped. “Ack, that one almost went in my—wait!”
“You. Sneaky. Piece. Of merde.” Amanda had found a cup of pens on the coroner’s desk, which meant it sucked to be Sean Beane. Amanda punctuated each word by tossing another missile. “You. Set. Us. Up.”
“That’s one interpretation.”Damn. Beane’s quite the Artful Dodger.“If it ... hey!” He caught the next one, then ducked as another one flew over his head. He closed the distance between them and caught her wrists gently, shaking them in a futile attempt to get her to drop the cup and pen.
They were. Um. Very close. Close enough for her to resent his ridiculous good looks all over again. Close enough to glare into his blue, blue eyes.
“Hands off,” she managed through clenched teeth, and was furious with herself because she didn’t entirely mean it.
“Please listen,” he said. His grip loosened but he didn’t release her. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think any of you killed him.”
She let out a breath that was closer to a hiss than a sigh. “Oh, we’re all suspects now?”Using me. The way I am using him. But my motives are somewhat more pure! Maybe!
“Actually, I think he just said the opposite,” Cass put in helpfully.
Oh. Shit. The two of them weren’t alone.How could I forget Sidney and Cass are RIGHT THERE?
Sidney was holding up her hands like a traffic cop trying to intimidate a bus. “Beane! Let go of her. Amanda! Put down the cup of tiny projectiles.” To Beane: “Prob’ly should have warned you about her penchant for this stuff. Except you didn’t warnus, so fuck it; hope she puts out one of your eyes.”
Sean obeyed, but Amanda ignored the command. She’d put the pen cup down when she damned well felt like it. “Cassandra has beennothingbut cooperative, Beane! You didn’t even have to track her down; she came in willingly! And you do this. Some sort of stupid reveal so you can gauge our reactions. Like it’s a talk show ambush instead of real life and real death.”
“Which worked,” he pointed out. “You were all astonished. You’re either Oscar-caliber actors—”
“Well, CassandrawasPugsley Addams in our senior play,” Sidney volunteered. “There wasn’t a wet eye in the place.”
“—or had no idea Jonny Frank was shot to death and dumped.”
“Guys, guys!” Cassandra was making the time-out gesture, which looked stupid no matter who did it. “It’s fine. Calm down.”
“This is no time to calm down, and I fail to see how any part of this is fine,” Amanda snapped.
“Love the attitude, though, Cass,” Sidney said. “That’s a story you should stick with. It’s fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine, everything’s fine. Unless your name’s Jonny Frank. Or Franklin Donahue.”
“I didn’t kill him when his name was Jonny Frank, and I didn’t kill him when he was Franklin Donahue ...”
“So, what?” Amanda asked. “He legally changed his name? Is that why nobody knew who Franklin Donahue was at first?”
“Who cares? Nothing’s changed, okay, Amanda? I didn’t kill him, no one here killed him, so please just settle. I know he’s anex-cop, but there are still penalties for assaulting one.”
“A few things have changed,” Amanda corrected. For starters, instead of the dead guy being a stranger, he was someone all three of them had a motive to murder. Shit, at one point, they’d had a sit-down and discussed the various ways Jonny Frank deserved to be folded, spindled, and/or mutilated. Sidney even volunteered to be the getaway driver, and Cass reminded them she could get her hands on her dad’s guns (two 12-gauge shotguns, a 20-gauge shotgun, a Beretta APX Carry, and the always-popular .38 Special) anytime she liked. “More than a few, now that I think about it.”
“Not really,” Cassandra replied. “Not at the fundamental level. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“That’s all very well, but—”
“And I can prove it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
OpStar, six years ago ...
They met in Lilydale, on the wraparound porch of a Victorian with a hideous paint job.
Puce? Really? It must be like living inside a bruise.
“Hi, Amanda.”
