things. Maybe someone cut her up and stuffed her in trash bags to take her out; people were sick when it came to murder, nowhere near as clean and professional as my family was.
“What about that bitch’s parents?” Dante asked. “Surely she has them. It seems like everyone in this fucking town comes from a family with a bread-winning daddy and a trophy wife for a mommy.”
That just went to show Dante had no idea about my family, but I supposed that was a good thing.
“Her parents weren’t home, I guess,” Jaz muttered, frowning again. I would do anything to see that frown be wiped from her face and her mischievous smile return. There weren’t many smiles that could affect me in this world, but hers was one of them. “She’s dead, her body missing, and everyone at this school knows she and I had it out for each other.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Archer thinks I did it.”
“Archer is a fucking toolbag,” Dante growled out, and I found myself agreeing with him, oddly enough. Something like that didn’t happen too often.
“I agree,” I said.
“See? Vaughn and I never agree on anything, except you,” Dante went on. “If Archer doesn’t believe you’re innocent, fuck him—not literally, though. Not again. That dickhead doesn’t deserve you.”
Jaz’s lips quirked into a tiny smile, and she raised her eyes to stare at him. “And you do?”
“Probably not,” Dante admitted. “But I like to think I’m a bit better than that fuckup.”
“You are, even if you’re crazy,” she said. As she heaved a sigh and told us all about how Oliver Fitzpatrick had hired Jacob Hall to be on the case, to try to figure out who was trying to set Jaz up and basically be her bodyguard at the same time, I knew I had to step it up, too. I had to utilize my stalking skills.
Jazmine Smith would go nowhere without my knowledge, and whoever was trying to stick her for Brittany’s murder would soon realize they’d targeted the wrong girl.
Chapter Five – Jaz
Jacob was off doing whatever he did at night. Ollie was upstairs, eating in his office, working on my case, probably. He’d talked to the detectives at the police station, got as much info from them as he could. Getting me off the hook wasn’t going to be easy, but it seemed like he was really trying.
Mom sat near me at the dining room table, a plate of meatloaf before us, along with mashed potatoes. She was getting to be a way better cook than she was before, I had to hand it to her. Of course, her cooking skills were never that great to begin with, so improving couldn't be too hard.
She also didn’t believe me when I’d told her school had been fine, which I found insanely annoying.
Mom practically stabbed her meatloaf chunks with her fork before bringing them to her mouth. “I still think it would be better for you to stay here. I know I was the one who pushed you to go to Midpark High, but maybe homeschooling would be better—” Having her daughter on the hook for murder stressed her out, apparently.
Ditto here, but I felt like I was handling it better than her, and I was the one who was actually the police’s top suspect.
“I’m not being homeschooled,” I said, my will resolute. “Either Ollie and Jacob figure out who’s behind it, or…”
“Or what?” Mom asked, her voice suddenly shrill. “Or you’ll go to prison?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it,” I suggested. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”
“What?” she asked, a bit insulted that I dare suggest we talk about literally anything else than me being set up for murder.
At this point, I had no idea what Mom and I should talk about. I couldn’t bring up Bobbi, lest I tell my mom that her dad had forbidden us from hanging out—I mean, I understood why he told Bobbi that, but at the same time, Bobbi was basically my only friend here, besides the guys. Sometimes it was nice not being surrounded by dick upon dick, you know?
This was not the time to bring it up, but I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that things in Midpark might never slow down, that I might always be in the middle of something, knee-deep in shit. If not now, there might not be another when.