Follow Her Home Read Online Free Page B

friends who had lost their virginity in high school, and the concept of sexual purity had never meant much to me. Our mom never talked to us about sex, one way or another, so we built our own understanding.
    If Luke thought I would be interested in sniffing out foul play involving another half-grown girl, he wasn’t too far off the mark.
    *   *   *
    I took Sixth past Rimpau, Mansfield, June, McCadden, and Highland and turned onto Citrus. The address belonged to a peach house on a residential strip. It had the feel of a parent’s house. Two triplets of stairs led up to the front door, beside which hung the digits 4, 3, and 2 in pebbly iron calligraphy. The rounded butt of a Lexus SUV glinted from its perch on the sharply inclined driveway.
    I stopped my car and saw fit to pry. Light filled the front seat, giving the tight quarters the air of an interrogation room. I couldn’t be quite as aggressive as Marlowe, but I didn’t think Lori would be tough to crack.
    â€œWe didn’t really get to talk at the party too much. I hear you work for the Big Cook.”
    She puckered her lips and rubbed her head against the textured seat belt. “Uh-huh.”
    â€œSince when?”
    â€œMmm … last year?”
    â€œWere you in school before that?”
    She nodded, her cheek cuddling the seat belt.
    â€œSo, what, that makes you like twenty-three?”
    She nodded again, then shook her head and lifted two fingers in a V. “Two.” That made her four years younger than me. I thought again of Iris.
    I was off track and decided to get straight to the point. Given her current state, I doubted that subtlety was necessary. “What do you think of Mr. Cook?”
    She closed her eyes with an air of peace. “Funny.”
    â€œFunny?” I tried to picture Mr. Cook cracking a joke and had to laugh. He might have strained a cheek from the effort. I had known the man since the end of high school, when Luke and I started hanging out off campus. When we got around to planning our summers in the spring of freshman year, Mr. Cook offered us easy employment at his firm. He was nice enough, but with all the edge of a Mormon on a Sunday.
    â€œHe’s awkward. And adorable.”
    â€œAdorable?” I felt something icy spread through me at the word. Maybe Luke was onto something. When Mr. Cook was in the room, I would remember to straighten my back and pull down the hem of my skirt. Not because he was looking, either.
    â€œI think he likes me.”
    I tilted back my head and looked down my nose at her. “Really.”
    â€œDon’t tell anyone, okay?”
    â€œWho would I tell?” There was at least one obvious answer here, but she didn’t quite grasp it. “What makes you think that anyway? The man’s married.”
    She giggled. “He doesn’t want to, you know, do me, he just likes me.”
    â€œThen how does he like you?”
    She mused with a whimpering hum. “I dunno.” She undid her seat belt. It was a messy operation that needed several attempts.
    â€œAre you friends with Diego too?”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œYou know I went to college with him and Luke. He’s a good guy.”
    She nodded in angles, apparently too drunk to feign interest.
    â€œThanks for the ride,” she said. She struggled with the door for a couple seconds without looking at her hand before letting herself out.
    I got out of the car to walk her to the front door.
    â€œI’m fine,” she said. “Thanks so much though.” She circled her arms around my neck in a high-school-dance hug, her head resting on my shoulder, pelvis a comfortable couple inches removed from my thigh. “Night, Junie. Drive safe.” I grimaced. The only person who called me Junie after the fourth grade was Diego, and the nickname faded out after we broke up. She disengaged herself and I took her palm in mine, pressed her keys into it, and