Chapter 3 #2
“Listen,” he says at last. “I think that’s enough for today. Let me know if you do think of anyone who could fit that description. But for now, I imagine you’re still in shock. It goes without saying I’d like you to stay in Astley for the next few weeks.”
“That’s fine,” I mumble. “I was planning to stay here for winter break anyway.”
“Right, right. And where will you stay?”
I stare at him in confusion. “My house.”
“Oh.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Of course, it’s sealed off right now, given that this is an active murder investigation.
But I think… I think we just need a few more days to gather evidence.
So you’ll just have to find a place for the week.
What do you say? Do you have any friends you can stay with? ”
“I don’t have friends,” I say bluntly.
“I see.” He scratches his head. “How about a hotel? Just for the week.”
I let out a snort, because he really should know better. Everyone knows the Days don’t have a penny to their name. “I’m poor.”
“Not even one little week?” he repeats, but I glare at him sullenly. “Maybe Oakley then. There’s probably some cheap motel down in Oakley that you could afford. Eh?”
I bite my tongue, not wanting to tell me that my bank account is in overdraft right now.
All the money I made at my part-time job went to buying the bus trip ticket.
I can’t even afford the slums right now.
I’ll figure something out, though. Anything, as long as it means getting out of this stifling office.
I stand up.
“Send your address over when you have one,” he requests. “I’ll be calling on you soon.”
“Sure,” I mumble.
I head out and cross the little waiting room where a young woman stands behind a desk. “Oh… Miss Day!” she calls out.
I don’t even have to look to know she must be new here, or she’d know I’m only Pissed-off Piper. Never Miss Day.
“I have the reservation to your hotel here,” she comments, holding out a piece of paper.
“You must be mistaking me for someone else,” I snap. “I didn’t make any reservation.”
She looks a bit taken aback. “Oh. But this is for you. Someone called just a little while ago and told me they’d booked you a stay at the Astley Hotel for the week.”
“The Astley Hotel,” I echo, my voice hollow.
It’s the fanciest hotel in town, its smallest rooms going for a thousand dollars a night or more, depending on the season.
And this is winter break. All the rich people in the county are coming here to ski in the surrounding mountains.
It’ll definitely be way more than one thousand dollars. “I can’t pay for that.”
“It’s already paid for,” she insists, pushing the paper toward me. “You’re all set to go.”
I turn toward Jones, who’s standing in the doorway. “That’s way out of your budget, isn’t it?”
“I had nothing to do with this,” he says, looking just as confused as me. “Sophie, who did you say called?”
She shrugs. “No name. But it was a man. He had a low, sexy voice,” she adds with a wink at me.
I turn away, my stomach roiling in disgust, and from the corner of my eye I notice her growing red. She probably realizes that a girl whose parents just got murdered is probably not too interested in dating.
“Well, Piper,” says Jones after a moment’s hesitation. “Guess it’s just as good a place as any to stay, hey? The Astley Hotel?”
“What if…” I stammer, unwilling to speak a second longer than I have to with Jones, but unable to keep the awful suspicion to myself. “What if he’s the murderer?”
He blinks at me dumbly, and I’m reminded how stupid he is. How stupid everyone is in this stupid town.
“Why would a murderer be doing something this nice?” he asks.
Oh, I don’t know, I think viciously. Maybe because he wants to keep an eye on me. Stay in control. Kill me at his convenience.
But I stay quiet, chewing on my lower lip.
“He also sent you a car,” adds the girl—Sophie, I think Jones called her.
“A car,” I repeat in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s out front, waiting for you.”
I open the door of the precinct and look out.
Sure enough, a sleek black car, its windows tinted grey, is parked at the curb.
I hesitate, looking back over my shoulder inside the police station, but Jones has already disappeared in his office, apparently relieved that I’ve found a place to stay.
And Sophie smiles encouragingly, clearly certain that I’m about to fall head over heels with a sexy mystery man, only she has enough tact now not to speak those thoughts aloud.
The stupid girl has clearly read one too many dark romance books.
I sigh then turn back to the car. I have a sickening conviction that whoever’s at the wheel is involved in my parents’ death. Maybe he’s not the murderer. But he knows something. Otherwise, why would he involve himself in this situation?
Which means, getting into that car could be dangerous.
At the same time, though, the past hour has made it clear that I won’t get answers from Jones and his shoddy police work. If I want to find the killer… I’m going to have to do some digging myself.
And if that means putting myself at risk, well, so be it.
They don’t call me Pissed-off Piper for nothing. I’m pissed off, that’s for sure, and someone’s going to pay.
Angrily clenching my fists, I slowly cross the sidewalk and seize the handle of the car door. It’s open.
As I enter, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking straight into a trap.