Big Lie, The EPB by James Grippando

Author:James Grippando
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

Charlotte left her hotel room at 9:00 o’clock.

She’d thought about calling Jack to tell him about the text messages, but he would have insisted that she call the police, which would have been a mistake. The man who’d dared her to meet him at Clyde’s at 10:00 p.m. was no stalker or political terrorist—at least not the last time she’d seen him. She took a screenshot of the text messages, just in case things had changed—in case he had changed. And she brought her Glock.

Charlotte exited the hotel through the restaurant to avoid any reporters who might be hanging around the hotel lobby. The night was cool enough for a light jacket, which afforded a more comfortable concealed-carry option. Charlotte’s “Baby Glock” was holstered outside her waistband, which, without the cover of her jacket, would have been an illegal open carry. She was almost certain she wouldn’t need it, but she was prepared.

Actually, Charlotte had been prepared all her life. Her father had made sure of it. Of the five Holmes girls, Charlotte had been closest to him, but even Charlotte had to admit that Dad was a bit over the top when it came to self-defense. Every Monday night, right after dinner, Mr. Holmes would take his girls to the garage for a dry-fire drill. He’d balance a penny atop the slide of an unloaded pistol, right behind the front sight. Any girl who could hold her aim at the wall for a count of five and squeeze the trigger without moving the penny didn’t have to help her sisters clear the dinner table the rest of the week. Any girl who took his word for it that the gun wasn’t loaded and didn’t check for herself was an automatic loser. Charlotte made it all the way through high school without once clearing the table. Another reason for Megan to hate her.

The Uber driver met her a block away from the hotel, and Charlotte climbed into the back seat.

“There’s bottled water if you want it,” the driver said.

“No, thanks.”

“Gum and mints, too.”

“I’m good.”

“If you need a phone charger, just ask.”

Obviously a new driver fishing for five-star reviews. In a month, he’d be texting while driving, and his car would smell like a taco stand at 2:00 a.m.

Charlotte gazed out the window as they headed toward Clyde & Costello’s, an eighteen-plus club that was popular with college students who were under twenty-one and without a fake ID. Charlotte had first visited Clyde’s while still in high school, on one of her trips to FSU. It was the chosen destination—Clyde’s—that had convinced Charlotte she was going to meet an old friend—one who had for some reason chosen to torment her with texts that weren’t the least bit funny. And she was going to find out what the hell he was up to.

“You into younger men?” asked the driver.

There went his five-star rating. “What? No, I—”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. Just, if you are, there are some other bars I could—”

“No.

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