Royally Dead by Greta McKennan

Author:Greta McKennan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-05-19T16:03:20+00:00

Chapter 11

I glanced around, but Breanna and the other dancers had long gone. I didn’t see Gillian’s father anywhere.

“Do you think she got left behind?” McCarthy said.

“I guess there’s one way to find out.” I went over and stood next to her. “Hey, Gillian. You’re still here.”

Her head snapped up. “Duh.” She scowled at me and then dropped her head on her knees once more.

“Is your dad around?”

Her head shot up again. “What do you care? Leave me alone!”

I exchanged a helpless look with McCarthy. He drew me away from her. “Do you know where she lives? The store is about to close and it’s still raining buckets out there. Can she get home on her own or does she need a ride?”

I was an expert on the bus schedules in Laurel Springs, but I didn’t know where Gillian lived. Reluctantly, I approached her again.

“Do you need a ride home? We can drop you off if you want.”

Gillian glared at me. “What makes you think I need anything from you?”

I gritted my teeth. “Nothing. See you.” I spun on my heel and walked away. I grabbed McCarthy’s arm and pulled him straight out the door. “If she wants a ride, she’ll follow us. If she doesn’t, then she can figure it out on her own.”

Outside, the rain cascaded off the roof and pelted into the puddles forming on the brick walkway. McCarthy opened his umbrella and held it over the two of us. “How long does it take a sulky teen to realize she needs a hand?”

“Probably longer than we’d like.” I scootched closer to him under the umbrella. “I’m guessing there’s a power struggle going on between her and her dad and we’ve stepped into the middle of it. If we go back in, we lose. If we stay here too long and she comes out and we’re waiting for her, we lose. If we just leave, we’ll feel guilty, so we lose.” I brushed at my shoulder, which was rapidly getting soaked.

McCarthy put an arm around me, drawing me even closer. “If we’re going to lose anyway, I’d rather just lose now and get it over with. Come on.” He opened the door and ushered me back inside, shaking the rain from his umbrella on the way in.

Gillian hadn’t moved. McCarthy walked straight up to her and squatted down in front of her. He turned on his two-hundred-watt smile. “I’m Sean McCarthy from the Laurel Springs Daily Chronicle. I was wondering if I could get one last photo of you for the newspaper.” He waved a hand at me. “You know Daria, right? She’s doing a piece on kilt-making for the newspaper, and we’d like to run a picture of a real-live person wearing a kilt. I got some shots of the dancers during the sword dance, so just one posed picture would wrap things up.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got four minutes before the store closes.” He flashed that grin again. “What do you say?”

Gillian bought it, like I knew she would.

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