Land of Shadows Read Online Free Page A

her. And if you say I brought you … You can’t say that I brought you.”
    I stared at the countertop. “I … umm…”
    Tori stuffed her mouth with eggs. “Tell her a version of the truth but leave out the parts where you fucked up. She’ll believe you—she always believes you. I bet that she’ll throw you a parade.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, eyes burning with tears. “But I don’t know how … What…?” A tear slipped down my cheek.
    Tori dropped her fork, then used a napkin to wipe my face. “This is what you’ll say…”
    Ten minutes later, I was deep into my fish story. “And when they pulled out the whiskey bottle,” I was saying to Mom, wide-eyed, “I knew it wasn’t right. Shawnee listened to me but Kimya didn’t—and I swear that I didn’t even know that Kimya was gonna be there. So I left and ran home.”
    Mom poured coffee into her mug, then squinted at me with bloodshot eyes. “Good. That was a brave thing to do. I’m still not happy that Kimya—”
    Tori sashayed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed an orange from the crisper. She was now wearing her long-sleeved cheer uniform.
    â€œVictoria,” Mom said.
    Tori turned and her green-and-white pleated skirt went whee!
    â€œDid Lulu tell you about her adventure last night?”
    Tori rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I care about Lulu’s adventures. By the way, I still need fifty dollars to pay off my class ring.”
    Mom frowned. “By when?”
    â€œBy today.”
    â€œToday?” Mom screeched. “Tori, why the hell—?”
    â€œDon’t you have somewhere to be?” Tori asked me.
    I nodded. To Mom, I said, “Leadership Class has a field trip to City Hall today, remember?”
    Mom, eyes hot on Tori, waved her hand: I was dismissed. “Victoria, what is your problem? You are becoming more and more…”
    Before leaving the kitchen, I glanced back at my big sister and mouthed, “Thanks.”
    Tori glared at me, then winked.

 
    5
    There she was, my newest Jane Doe, hanging in the closet just like I had been told. A black girl, couldn’t have been older than twenty-one, her body teeming with wriggling maggots and blowflies. Some of the hair behind her right ear looked gummy and matted. Blood? Even though she was now bloated with gas, I could still tell that she had been a little thing. She wore a blue-and-yellow cheerleader’s uniform, the tank top with the word VIKINGS printed in white, and a white-striped skirt torn at the hem. Stained white anklets. No sneakers.
    Where are your shoes? How did your skirt tear? Why are you here?
    Her legs were splayed before her and her hands had been tied behind her back with a yellow Vikings scarf.
    My mind scrolled through a list of Los Angeles–area high school mascots. Who are the Vikings?
    Jane Doe also wore a green-and-red Gucci web belt around her neck, pulled so tight that her eyes had bugged and her tongue stuck out from between her lips. The rest of the belt had been looped around the closet’s crossbar. An iPhone sat near her left foot.
    For just a moment, my heart broke and I almost dropped to my knees—I had wanted all of this to be a mistake, a practical joke, or even a modern-day Lazarus story that ended with Jane Doe coming to and explaining that she and her buddies were just fucking around and it all got a little out of hand.
    But I’ve never experienced those stories. I’m labeled “homicide” for a reason.
    And as a homicide detective in a big city, I had visited hundreds of crime scenes starring dead, black teenage girls. But this one girl … This cheerleader …
    Tori.
    I swiped at the slick cream beneath my nostrils to reactivate its scent but more to collect myself. “How long have you been here, sweetie?” I whispered.
    The bigger