Page 137 of The Body in the Backyard
“At the time, it was a possibility.”
“‘At the time’ was less than three minutes ago,” she pointed out. She huffed out a sigh of indignation and sat on the sticky bench. “Yuck.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Do you really think I would drive a minivan full of nieces to Bouncy Fucking Boo’s if I thought assassins were on our tail?”
“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell.”
“I know who’s following us, and the only thing we’re in danger of is getting strep throat in this germ factory.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Pfft. I’m never wrong. And we’re about to find out just how not wrong I am.” He nodded toward the front door as two women entered.
The first was on the short side with long blunt bangs that brushed the tops of her glasses. She had a peaches and cream complexion and was dressed like a Nirvana fan, with a flannel shirt tied around her waist and ripped gray jeans. The second woman was all long legs and sharp angles with bronze skin. She had a nose ring and an eyeliner cat eye, and wore high-waisted slacks with a David Bowie crop top.
Both of them were frowning. To be fair, most of the adults trapped in the building full of screaming children, spilled soda, and vacant-eyed employees were also frowning.
The moment the women spotted them, Riley felt a punch of recognition from them. “They’re definitely here for us.”
The women reluctantly paid the teenager at the cash register and accepted their wristbands before walking straight over to their bench.
“We’re not attempted murderers,” the shorter one announced.
“We’re not baby seal clubbers,” Nick said.
“Cut the crap,” the taller one grumbled.
“Sorry. I thought we were trying out some kind of new small talk,” he said.
“Chill out, Betty,” the shorter one said, laying a hand on her partner’s arm. “Look, we know you’re looking at us for the Griffin Gentry attack.”
“What makes you think that?” Nick asked.
Betty pulled out her phone and pushed a button.
A familiar voice came out of the speaker. “Yeah, this is Penny PI with Santiago Investigations. You two are suspects in an attempted homicide investigation and are legally required to be interrogated by me and my associates.”
There was a fit of coughing.
“Jesus, Willicott. Chew your damn food. Don’t inhale it! Anyway. As I was saying, call me back so I can come interrogate you and search your house. Okay. Bye.”
Nick sat poker-faced while Riley covered her eyes with one hand.
“Tyra and I wanted to talk to you on neutral ground,” Betty said, eyeing the chaos of bouncing children behind them. “And tell you that we had nothing to do with what happened to Gentry.”
“So you can call off your geriatric watch dog,” Tyra said.
Nick slapped his palms against his thighs. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I could go for an Icee. Who wants? I’m buying.”
They hit the snack bar and moved from the sticky bench to a stickier table with a view of the foam pit and the inflatable cross-eyed-lizard obstacle course.
“How did you know we were following you? We watched a couple of YouTube tutorials on surveillance. I thought we were doing pretty well,” Tyra said as she spooned up a bite of fruit punch Icee.
“You made one rookie mistake. You parked in the Taco Bell lot while we went through the drive-thru, and then you followed us on our way out. Nobody pulls into Taco Bell and doesn’t at least get a burrito. You would have been less suspicious if you’d gone through behind us.”
“That’s what I told you,” Betty said, sighing into her piña colada calamity Icee.
“Yeah, but you know what happens to me after I eat too many chalupas,” Tyra reminded her.
