Basil Instinct by Shelley Costa

Author:Shelley Costa [Costa, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2014-06-24T00:00:00+00:00

10

A slave to any GPS, I got us to the Callowhill Residential Institute for Behavioral Success without incident. Don Lolo sat reflectively in the back, legs crossed, eyes narrowed with musings. CRIBS was west of town by about a half hour, set—I had found out online—on twelve acres of woodland. The drive up to the main building, the kind of staunch red-and-white colonial that gives nothing away, ran through an arbor of towering black locusts. The public face of Callowhill, I was guessing. I parked in front of the main entrance, figuring that when your wheels are a limo, no one asks questions.

Leaving Don Lolo behind his privacy glass in his bulletproof (well, probably not) vehicle, I went inside the main administration building long enough to identify myself as Mitchell, Slash, and Corabeth’s teacher at the Quaker Hills Career Center. A short young receptionist with a slight tremble in her voice, hands, and head—understandable, from what I’d already seen of this crew—and large haunted eyes, had me sign in, which I did primly. More primly than my eye shadow and earrings warranted. I had a sudden bad moment wondering if (I stole a look at her name tag) Jenny Johnson was scared of me, not them. Should have taken off the earrings. She was too young to appreciate the Coach bag . . .

Choking out some vague directions to what she called “Cottages Three and Four,” Jenny let me go, and I skipped down the steps and back into the limo. We drove halfway around the semicircle and turned an easy right onto Alvin and Marcia Higgenbotham Drive. Big donors, no doubt. Naming rights, and all that. I found myself wondering whether half the problem for these kids was having to tell your buds you live on Alvin and Marcia Higgenbotham Drive. Can you blame them? I’d be flicking lit matches, too.

Brick “cottages” Three and Four, which stood next to each other, eased into sight. I drove slowly, since slow carries its own brand of menace, if you ask me. I parked silently, since silence carries its own brand of menace, if you ask me. I spotted the three of them—the dreadlocked Mitchell, the suspiciously clean-cut Slash, and Corabeth, whose hair was screaming red again and rubber-banded back into its Shrek ’do. Apparently the lads were mocking her, which she thanked them for with a quick twist of Slash’s arm and Mitchell’s, well, private parts. I shot a look at Choo Choo, who seemed impressed the boys didn’t howl.

“Stay put for now,” I reminded him. To which he simply lowered his eyelids in assent.

Out of the limo I bounded over to Corabeth. The other two shrank back, but only a bit, since I was arriving so—so—unexpectedly. So full of energy. Maybe even a homework assignment. “Hey, how ya doin’, Miz Angelino,” quipped Slash, that wit. Mitchell elbowed him and they feinted at each other for no explainable reason.

“Fine, boys, just fine,” I smiled benignly.

Slash ventured: “Lookin’ some kind of fine”—and he added, with a leer that was supposed to make me tingle, I guess, “Eve.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.