Chapter Seventeen
“Socialite - a person who is or seeks to be prominent in fashionable society.”
Charming
I liked money. I liked cars and clothes. I liked having nice things and the ability to buy whatever I wanted. But sometimes the things I had to do to earn my money really sucked. And I didn’t mean the killing. Killing didn’t require much talking or much listening.
But spending time with a Target—specifically Rosalyn—required both.
I was starting to think that eventually going to hell wasn’t my punishment for murder—it was spending time with her.
It was a Saturday, a day most socialites would be lounging in bed, playing golf, or sitting by a pool. Not Rosalyn. No, she would rather drag me all over Fairbanks to scout locations for the fundraiser that I offered to help her chair.
What surprised me was that there were so many viable locations for such an event. I didn’t think this town consisted of much more than snow.
“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” she said, wrapping her hand around my elbow and looking up.
“I’m sorry, my brain’s starting to shut down from lack of caffeine,” I said and gave her my best smile.
“It has been a long morning. Let’s get some lunch and caffeine,” she said.
“Now you’re talking.”
“It will give us a chance to discuss all the venues and pick one.”
Internally, I groaned.
Her phone rang inside the designer bag she wore over her shoulder and she pulled it out. “Oh, it’s your sister!” she said, smiling.
My sister…
“Frankie, hi!” the Target said enthusiastically when she answered the phone.
Oh, yes. My sister.
I hadn’t seen or heard from her in over a week. Since I kissed her. Ever since that night, I went out of my way to avoid her. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, that kiss had shaken me. It made me feel things I didn’t want to feel.
After several days, I started to get the feeling I wasn’t the only one avoiding someone. She never showed up when I had plans with the Target, she didn’t show up to snoop around my house, and she never once tried to call.
Frankie was avoiding me too. Her avoidance irritated me for reasons I didn’t understand. I should be happy she was finally backing off. It’s what I wanted.
Even still, I had Storm check up on her. She could have been up to something that I needed to know about. He said she wasn’t. He said the only place she ever went was work except for two trips to a soup kitchen in the bad part of town where she delivered boxes of cupcakes and cookies.
It didn’t seem like her to give away all that sugar.
“It’s been too long,” the Target was saying into the phone. “You’ve been a stranger!”
I listened closely to hear what Frankie would say.
“I was hoping we could meet? I would really like to explain why I haven’t called.”
What exactly did Frankie plan on explaining to my Target? A feeling of alarm washed over me and I knew Frankie was going to somehow rat me out.
“I was just about to go have lunch with…” The Target looked up, about to tell my sister I was with her. I caught her eye and shook my head, placing a finger over my lips. “Umm, would you like to meet now?”
I nodded and she smiled.
Frankie suggested a nearby café and the Target agreed.
“What was that all about?” she said after she ended the call and was stuffing her phone back into her bag.
“I haven’t seen her in a while either. I thought I would surprise her.”
“You’re sweet,” she said, taking my arm again. “What’s it like to have a sister?”
“It definitely keeps me on my toes,” I replied, guiding her down the street toward the café. I couldn’t help but wonder what Frankie would do when she walked in and saw me at the table.
I would know in seconds if she really were planning on somehow turning the Target against me.
I didn’t think she would go so far as telling her I was a Death Escort.
I mean, that would only make her sound insane.
But even just the slightest hint that I wasn’t exactly who I said I was would make this Target suspicious.
It seemed that my very boring day with the socialite was about to become a lot more interesting.