Jonathan Kellerman - Deception

The girl blinked, crossed her arms across her torso, and dropped her head. "Uh-uh."

"Actually, you do, Bri. And unfortunately for you and Selma, you also knew the dry ice was going to be used for something really bad. And guess how we know that?"

Shrug.

"We know because Selma told us, Bri. How else would we know? You buy ice for some rich dudes, no problem. You buy ice knowing it's going to be used to kill someone, big problem, that's called accomplices before the fact. According to the law, that's the same as committing murder."

Bri Blevins looked up, tried to match his stare. Couldn't handle five seconds before she dropped her head to the table.

"Selma's already cooperating, Bri, and that's buying her a lot of goodwill. She may be your homegirl, Bri, but she's smart enough to realize that a life sentence for murder changes everything."

The girl's head shook from side to side. I'd heard moans like hers on the cancer ward.

Milo said, "It doesn't need to be bad, Bri. You've got one chance to tell us your side. After that, it's Selma being smart and you being stupid and ending up in the same situation as Tristram and Quinn. Up to you."

The head shaking rotated in a strange way, morphing to a nod.

"They're bad," she said.

"Tristram and Quinn."

"Yeah. Not the good kind of bad."

We've been partying like… months," said Brianna Blevins.

"Where'd you meet them?"

"They came into the Lion, paid for lap dances, bought champagne, got into the VIP room."

"After that, then you started partying."

"Yeah."

"They party with anything besides meth?"

"Single malt," she said. "They always had bottles of it."

"Booze and ice," said Milo. "Then there was a different kind of ice."

Brianna Blevins grinned.

"Something funny, Bri?"

Her smile died. "Not, it's just… when they asked us to buy it we're like a different ice? Selma said it. Being funny."

"Did Tristram and Quinn laugh?"

"Um… uh-huh, they laughed all the time."

"Coupla happy guys."

"Why not? They had everything."

"What's everything, Bri?"

"Money, cars, they could do what they want. They're hot."

"And on top of all that, they had you and Selma for partying."

The girl's eyes drooped as her face turned ancient. "We knew we were like… a game, you know? They were going to Stamford College, said they'd take us but we knew that was bullshit."

" Stanford University in Palo Alto?"

"I guess."

"Tristram and Quinn promised to bring you and Selma to college."

She snorted. "Set us up in our own apartment. To be their mistresses. They liked that word. Mistresses. Like how kings and princes do it."

"Two fresh princes from Bel Air, huh?"

"Guess so."

"Did you believe the private-jet promise?"

"Probably not."

"But maybe a little at first," said Milo. "You were hoping."

"We thought it would be cool." Tears rolled down the girl's cheeks, tracked through thick foundation. "We were just a game. They showed us pictures. Of the place-Q's place, it's his family owns it. Up in the mountains, they walk out of the house, go skiing."

"Q being Quinn Glover."

"Uh-huh. Place was fiercely huge, they got a movie theater. We're like that would be cool. But no way, we knew they were lying."

"Same for the promise to set you up at Stanford."

"Stamford they'll meet girls like them, we're like stuck in a stupid apartment, can't dance, they're like you're our mistresses. No friggin' way."

"You're a smart girl, Bri."

"Not so smart. I'm here."

"Maybe we can clear that up. Let's talk about the day you paid Gilberto Chavez to buy dry ice."

"We didn't know him, we just found him."

"Where?"

"Walking on Saticoy. They said go there, there's always Mexicans need money."

"Selma take offense at that?"

"Huh? Why?"

"Selma's Mexican."

"Half, only her dad. She don't know him." She wiggled her fingers. "Could I have a smoke?"

"Not yet, Bri, but I can get you something to drink."

"Um… diet orange?"

"If we've got it. Second choice?"

"Diet Sprite."

He left the room. I smiled at her. She said, "I could really use a smoke. Is it like no smoking all the time?"

"He can be flexible."

"Oh."

Milo returned with a can of Diet 7UP, popped the tab. She sipped.

Milo said, "You found Gilberto Chavez walking on Saticoy."

"They surprised us. Tris and Q. We were gonna go to work then they called. They're like call in sick, we'll party all day. We're like no way, we'll get in deep shit with Leandro-that's who owns it. They're like fuck Leandro, we'll pay you boo-koo more than Leandro's gonna pay you, you say you got the flu, Leandro's gonna be cool 'cause you're the hottest dancers in the place."

Shy smile. One part of her brain still gloried in the flattery. "We're like no way. They're like we'll buy you dresses and shoes, four bottles of champagne next time, Leandro'll be chill."

"Was he?"

"Nope, he was pissed."

"So you didn't go to work. Then what?"

"Selma was already at my house 'cause my dad was gone, Tris and Q picked us up in a car, not the Jag, not the Hummer."

"What kind of car?"

"GMC Yukon."

"Color?"

"Black. They're like the Hummer's broken, this is a loaner. Except I saw an Avis label on the bumper."

Milo eyed the one-way glass. "Black Yukon from Avis, sharp eye, Bri. So where'd you guys go?"

"A hotel. They had it set up."

"Set up for…"

"Partying. Grey Goose, ice bucket, grapefruit juice, orange juice, pomegranate juice-oh, yeah, cookies and cakes… chips and guac, too."

"Which hotel?"

"Next to Universal Studios."

"The Sheraton?"

"That's it."

"Meth?"

"Mostly weed." Her eyes darted upward. "Yeah, some of that, too."

Milo said, "What else?"

"Oh, yeah, pills."

"What kind of pills?"

"Vitamin R, Trank."

"Ritalin and some sort of downer," he said. "Doing the old roller coaster, huh?"

"Head-surfing," she said. "It's like exercise, aerobics, you know?"

"R and Trank-aren't you leaving something out, Bri?"

Whispered answer, too soft to hear.

"What's that, Bri?"

"Ox."

"There you go," said Milo. "Who liked to party with Ox?"

"No one, they never had it before."

"But Tris and Q brought it that day."

"For later," she said. "For… when it's time to do the bitch."

"They didn't use a name, Bri, because you knew who they meant."

"No," she said. "They didn't use a name 'cause we didn't know a name. It was always 'the bitch.'"

"But you knew who they were talking about."

"The teacher," she said. "They talked about her all the time, we thought they were screwing around."

"About…"

"You know."

"I need to hear it from you."

"Doing her," she said.

"Killing her."

"Uh-huh."

"Why'd they want to kill her?"

"They were… they don't get mad, they're always laughing. More like… I dunno, like it was something they had to do."

"Why'd they have to kill the teacher, Bri?"

"She wanted to do them. Not the same do, do them like get it on."

"The teacher wanted to have sex with Tris and Q."

"She was always showing herself."

"How?"

"Wearing no bra when they came over for lessons. Bending over, you know?"

"Tris and Q decided they had to kill Elise because she flirted with them?"

"They're like she's always horny, it's gross."

Milo sat back, stretched. Yawned theatrically. "'Scuse me-by the way, Selma told us the real reason Tris and Q wanted to murder Elise. That's her name, by the way. Elise Freeman."

"What'd Selma say?"

"Guess."

"Um, Tris and Q were like we already paid her, now she wants more, the bitch."