to glare.
Auri considered asking if Bea would be her bestie but figured it was too soon. She didn’t want to come across as the desperate newbie she was. And besides, she already had a brand-new bestie, even though she had yet to see Sybil. The girl she’d met over winter break. The girl who wore braids and glasses.
Concern itched the back of her neck, and she used her inhaler again just in case. Why would they be looking for Sybil?
As class went on, Auri heard more and more of the whispers that chained across the room. They were looking for a girl. A girl named Sybil. The principal was going from room to room. That’s who was at the door, the principal, asking if their teacher had seen her. She wasn’t in trouble. No, she was in trouble. She had run away. She’d been abducted. She was last seen at the park. She was last seen walking north on I-25. They’d put out an Amber Alert. She could be dead.
By the time class was wrapping up, Auri knew only one thing for certain. Sybil St. Aubin was missing.
Risking everything, mostly her phone privileges, Auri took out her cell, angled it away from the teacher’s line of sight, and texted her mom. “911. A girl is missing? Mom, I know her. What’s going on?”
Then she palmed the phone and waited as panic slowly took hold.
The second the bell rang, and she hurried to the bathroom to call her mom. She locked the stall and dialed her mom’s cell.
“Hey, bean sprout,” Quincy said. “You’re mom’s driving. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Thanks, Quincy.”
“Hey, bug bite. So, you know Sybil?”
“Yes, I met her at the lake on New Year’s. She was supposed to meet me this morning. What’s going on? Is she okay?” The tardy bell for fourth period rang.
“Where are you calling from?”
“The restroom.”
“Are you supposed to be in class?”
“Yes.”
“Attagirl. I never had the nerve to skip my first day, but you go.”
“Mom. Sybil.”
“I don’t know, hon. This stays between us.”
“Of course,” she said, the statement dripping with duh.
“Sybil’s mother has reported her missing, but we have yet to find any signs of foul play. Did she say anything to you in the last few days?”
Auri thought back. “I don’t know. She said a couple of things that were odd, but I just thought she was like me and saw the world a little differently.”
“Nobody is like you, sprout,” Quincy said.
She smiled.
“What did she say?” her mom asked.
“Before Quincy showed up and stole all the beer—”
“That wasn’t me.”
“—we made plans to meet in the front hall. But then she said her birthday was coming up and that she really liked me but we wouldn’t have much time and she hoped I would forgive her.” Her mom didn’t say anything, so she gave her a moment before coaxing her with, “Mom? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, bug. I wish I did.”
“Sunshine,” Auri said, letting her mom know she was serious. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“That you’re too smart for your own good?”
“And?”
Quincy spoke up. “It’s just that Mrs. St. Aubin was saying something similar. Like we were running out of time.”
“Like she knew something,” Auri said, thinking out loud.
“Okay, I’m pulling into the station. Get to class.”
“’Kay. Will you please, pretty please with cherries on top, keep me updated?”
“I will, sweetheart. Hey, how’s your day going?”
“Aside from my missing friend? Peachy.” She hung up the phone before her mom could ask any more questions.
“Peachy.” Sun looked at Quincy after Auri hung up. “She is not having a good day.”
“Damn it. I hate to hear that, poor kid.”
“Maybe the narc thing is worse than I thought.”
“Or kids are dicks.”
Leave it to Quincy to boil every problem down to its basest element. They exited the cruiser and examined an official-looking car parked beside them.
“Marshals,” Quincy said, distaste evident in his tone.
Sun tried not to laugh. “Have you ever met a marshal?”
“Yes.”
She raised her brows.
“No. But still.”
They walked into the building, having to go through two electronic checkpoints. “So, who do you think the Book Babes want to kill?”
“Uh, the former sheriff. Duh.”
Surprised, she stopped at the last door and turned to him. “How do you know that?”
“Because he’s a dick. Why do you think you’re here and he’s not?”
“But why? What did he do to them?”
“Well, he’s Myrtle’s grandson.”
Okay, that she didn’t know. She also didn’t know the poor woman could get drunk on grape juice and had a pretty serious case of dementia, if