Follow Me Down by Sherri Smith

Author:Sherri Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

14

Just after 5 P.M., the front door of the house opened. Cody Jackson came out with a skinny, sleepy-eyed girl in tow and peeled out of the driveway. I started driving behind him. Slow, and far back enough that I wasn’t noticeable, as unnoticeable as you can be in a red PT Cruiser with a broken side mirror. Cody dropped the girl off at her house, his fish lips all over her before she finally got out, then continued on to a fast food restaurant (get rid of the girl, then get some food; what a cheap dick). He went inside.

I was on full Adderall speed now. The police weren’t fast enough. I knew better. I was faster. I was speedy-fast-speeding. I could do this better than Pruden anyway. I should shake this kid down. Bang, bang, just like that. The song “Shake That Thing” rushed through my head at chipmunk speed. Fuck, I needed an Ativan to counterbalance. A pill to offset a pill to offset a pill. “Shake That Thing” was replaced by “There Was an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly.”

Find Lucas. Find Lucas. Find Lucas.

I followed Cody Jackson inside.

He was a big kid, six foot two and over 220 pounds, at least. He’d really fill out a hockey net. Seriously, how had that tiny girl lived through an afternoon nap with him? He ordered a heaping tray of burritos and cheesy fries. Once he was sitting down, I went over.

“Cody Jackson, right?” I attempted a schoolgirl voice, but my words crashed into one another. Reminded myself to slow down. At least it gave the effect that I was nervous to talk to him, which he seemed to like.

“Uh, yeah?” A bit of burrito tumbled out of his mouth when he spoke.

I sat down across from him. “Goalie?”

He grinned, nodded, wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s your name?”

“Mia.”

“All right.” He forked some fries and twirled them around in the Day-Glo cheese sauce. “Whassup?”

“I just noticed you sitting here,” I purred, leaning in and letting my breasts rest on the table, “and I had to know, is that Cody Jackson, the Westfield goalie?” Cody nodded, gave me a chubby-cheeked wink. I wanted to punch him.

“That’s me in the flesh.” He pushed his yellow straw up and down into the plastic lid. A squeaky simulated fucking.

“Good. Wow, I couldn’t help myself.… I just had to know, am I really in the same restaurant as Cody Jackson, the Westfield goalie and photographer?” At this he scrunched his face. I got my phone ready with one of the least graphic pictures of Joanna and flashed it in front of his face. “And the disgusting pig who assaulted Joanna Wilkes and took pictures of it?”

“What?” He flinched back, hard, almost as if he’d been Tasered.

“I found the phone my brother took from you.”

“Wait, you’re Mr. Haas’s sister?” He squinted, searched my face.

“That’s right, asshole. Tell me where my brother is, or I’m going straight to the police.”

“I have no idea where Mr.

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