Mean Streaks by Kimberly G. Giarratano

Author:Kimberly G. Giarratano
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub

Amber slept fitfully that night. Her gut rolled from beer and lack of dinner. She longed to return home. This wasn’t her style of vacation. Killing time with food and swimming. Trying to deal with flaky girls. Watching boys who couldn’t make up their minds. This was no different than Jersey. This was not the Mexico she signed up for.

Eventually, she slipped out the hotel room to buy Tylenol from the gift shop. She then got an iced coffee and a palmera and headed to the beach. At this time of the morning, she could watch the pelicans dive for fish and revel in the quiet. If she closed her eyes and listened to the lapping waves, she could pretend she was on a Brazilian beach. Or a Mallorcan one. Wasn’t that the story of her life? Always wanting to be some place else.

But when Amber arrived, a crowd had gathered. Some were resort guests, but most were staff members from La Esmeralda Cove. Amber recognized their gold uniforms. They hovered around, many crying. Some of the guys screamed in Spanish, their anger directed at a man in a black uniform with Policía stitched on the arm. Other officers attempted to push onlookers away from—Amber squinted—a body.

Waves lapped the brown legs of a boy in jean shorts and a green polo. His arm extended out to the side, the white sand stained in red.

Blood.

She gasped.

Alejandro.

Amber’s stomach sank into her legs. She tossed her pastry into a nearby shrub and gently tapped a woman’s shoulder, an older guest already in her bathing suit and cover-up.

Amber whispered, “What’s happening?”

The woman eyed her. “A local boy was found. Stabbed to death.”

“Jesus,” Amber breathed.

“The police are looking for a teenage girl.”

Amber could barely breathe. “Who? A local?”

“An American. Jenny March.”

Jenny?

“Some kid from Pennsylvania. Her parents are booked at another resort, but she’d slipped into the Tesoro to use the pool. One of the housekeeping girls gave the police a description.” The woman squinted at her now, eyes roaming over her face, sizing her up, perhaps thinking she was the girl. She wasn’t, of course, but Amber knew who was.

Amber’s throat constricted. “Where’s Jenny now?”

“Who knows? Police are looking for her, or anyone who might know her or where she might be hiding out.” She cocked her brow. “Do you?”

Amber violently shook her head, and held up her wristband. “I’m here with my folks. They can vouch for me.” Her voice trailed away.

The woman softened. “Don’t let this sour your vacation, dear. Sometimes, crazy stuff happens.”

A boy was murdered. This wasn’t about lost luggage, or a forgotten dinner reservation.

Amber slogged back to the pool chairs, collapsing into one. Should she contact the police, tell them what she knew? Except, she didn’t know anything but the lies Julienne, or Jenny, had told her. She’d gotten Amber a piña colada, and sneaked her into a resort—that was it.

A man stopped by asking her for a drink order. “Agua,” she creaked out.

Her father’s shadow loomed over her. “You all right?”

Amber swallowed a lump, still stunned.

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