SUN PEEKED OUT over the trees, giving us a break from the snow and some much needed vitamin D. I stood in the golden rays like a cat, basking in the almost-warmth as I waited for Bridgette to meet me at the Starbucks at Copley Place. I had no idea why, since a pair of socks at this mall cost more than my entire bank account.
A sporty red car pulled up and Brig stepped out with a big smile on her face. She blew a kiss to the driver, presumably the new boy toy, and he drove off, burning rubber as he went.
I walked over to her. "He's charming."
"He's hot." As if that was enough. She linked her arm with mine. "Now let's get you a makeover, girlfriend."
"Brig, you know this place is way out of my price range."
She held up a platinum card. "Daddy gave his blessing for a splurge. He wanted to do something to help. For instance, buy you decent shoes." She looked down at my feet and sniffed.
"I can't take money from your dad. Let's just go to Walmart, and I can pick up a few pairs of jeans and sweaters. I'll be fine."
Brig would have none of it. I had two choices: 1) I could fight her and ruin our day. And still not win. 2) I could accept the gift she could afford, forget all my problems for a bit, and have fun with my best friend.
It was surprisingly hard to choose option 2. I had to remind myself it was okay to enjoy life once in awhile. And if I was being honest, a part of me really wanted a nice wardrobe of designer clothes. What can I say? Even I have my little vanities.
So I agreed, and she whooped and hugged me and laughed and dragged me into a hair salon. "First things first, you need a new cut, a waxing and a mani-pedi."
I had no say in any of it, but two hours later I had to agree I looked amazing, even in my shitty clothes. My hair, which had been layered and styled, fell down my back in dark waves. My eyes popped after the waxing and my nails and toes flashed a sexy red.
For the first time in a long time, we talked, laughed, and didn't delve into anything too serious. In other words, we had fun—something I'd almost forgotten about.
It took another several hours to make the rounds through Barneys of NY, Saks Fifth Avenue, Coach and Gucci—and of course we had to stop at the Godiva Chocolate Store for a treat.
We were laden with bags, clothes and sweets when we saw Lucky walking toward us. He looked so out of place in this mall, I felt almost sorry for him.
"Hey Lucky, what's up?" I smiled at him and Brig scowled and shifted her bags on her arms.
"Hi, Catelyn. I didn't know you'd be here. I was just checking out this place to see if I could set up a coffee kiosk over the break. I'm trying to branch out with my business." He picked at a scab on his chin and shuffled his feet, his shoulders slouched.
"That's great. Good luck!"
"Thanks, Catelyn."
My phone buzzed with a text, and I handed Bridgette a bag and checked my message.
You girls look beautiful in all your new clothes. I bet you'll look even better without them. Guess you're not so lonely anymore, but I still am. See you soon.
I froze.
Bridgette, who'd been going on about how she could tell a person's character by how they walked, stopped mid-sentence when she saw my face. She grabbed my phone and read.
Lucky frowned. "Something wrong?"
"No," I said. "Nothing."
"Okay." He shrugged, obviously aware of my lie. "Have fun shopping." He walked off, twirling his mustache.
Bridgette glared at me. "The killer's in the store."
"Or saw us come in," I said, scanning the aisles for someone shady.
"This is getting scary, Catelyn. We have to go to the police."
It was my turn to scowl. "Like they'll do anything about it."
"For a girl who wants to work within the system of justice, you sure don't have a lot of faith in it," she said.
"You wouldn't either, if you were me."
Chapter Seventeen
Untraceable
DETECTIVE GRAY TOOK our statement, all the while looking constipated and in need of a good shit. Then he took my phone. "We need it as evidence."
"The number he texted from is blocked. Can you trace it?" I asked.
"We're looking into it," he said.
"Have you found anything that might give us a hint as to who is doing this?"
"We found several different prints at your apartment." He stuck my cell phone in an evidence bag and labeled it. "We're running them against you, your former roommate and Miss Beaumont here. If anyone else pops up, we'll let you know."
Bridgette leaned in closer to him. "This case needs to be your number one priority, got it?"
The detective nodded and walked away, leaving us to show ourselves out.
Bridgette watched him. "He's an asshole, but he does have a nice ass."
"For a future doctor, you really have a one-track mind," I said.
We drove back to her house, and I carried my box up to the guest room, then went to Bridgette's room and flopped on her bed. She handed me her cell phone. "You'll need it for work. I'll get a new one from my dad."