Dead Girls Walking by Suzy Cox

Author:Suzy Cox
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472106636
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2016-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

We ported onto grime-stained steps of Precinct 19, just as the Altmans’ town car pulled up. I’d never noticed black could be so clean before, but their limo changed my mind.

The driver opened her door and Mrs Altman slid out as if she was stepping onto a paparazzi-packed red carpet, not some dingy cross street the wrong side of Lex. The roads had been salted that morning to melt any ice. Her tan heel landed centimetres from a deep puddle of sludge.

‘Mom?’ Lorna said, as Mrs Altman unknowingly strode past the ghost of her firstborn and up the steps into the station. Lorna sadly followed her inside. This was why I never visited my folks – what if I ported into the den and they didn’t feel my presence at all? Would that mean they hadn’t truly loved me when I’d been around? Or just that they’d learnt to block the pain out?

‘Jefferson, it’s terribly early in the morning to be summoning us here.’ Mrs Altman shed her grape twill trench in a way that would have made a snake jealous, simultaneously brushing off an officer’s offer of a coffee with a day-making smile. If I’d lived to 100, I could not imagine her lips coming into contact with one of those white polystyrene cups. ‘Payard is not even open for breakfast yet.’

‘Wow, that’s Oscar de la Renta!’ Lorna pointed at her mom’s coat. ‘Mom has the best taste in clothes. She always looks so appropriate,’ she said, like ‘police station dressing’ was a fashion dilemma they covered in Vogue.

‘I realize that.’ The detective rubbed his stubble with his forefinger. ‘Actually I have no idea what a “Payard” is, Mrs Altman. What I meant is that I know it’s early. I apologize for bringing you folks in like this, but we received some new information last night regarding the case and I wanted to talk to Emma about it, first chance I got.’

Emma had quietly entered the station with her dad. His suit suggested he had a major meeting to attend any second. Surely, even hedge-funders took holiday this close to Christmas?

‘Is it anything we should be concerned about, Jefferson?’ Mr Altman asked. He had one of those boomy voices that made you trust every word he said. Like he could be saying, ‘French fries – they’re so awesome for your diet’ or ‘Teenage boys – never led by what’s in their pants instead of their head’, and you’d take the fifth on it. Some skanky investment firm should totally hire him to do the voiceovers on their commercials.

‘I hope not.’ He shifted his focus to Emma who was deeply engrossed in her cell. ‘I hope it’s going to be a simple case of clearing something up. You’re welcome to sit in of course, Mr Altman – Emma being a minor.’

Emma slid her finger over her iPhone screen and dropped it into the black and emerald doctor’s bag which she was balancing in the crook of her arm. ‘Don’t

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