“You know they’re not being charged with anything. They could walk out the door and hail a cab if they wanted. We’ll pick up her meds and I’ll have them back before their curfew. I’ll catch up with Baker later. Just tell him you were in the can when we left.”
“Hmph. Your funeral,” she says as she slips into a small office on the other side of the desk. When she returns, she has my smaller backpack and the larger bag that Deo packed when he left Bart House. “Here you go. And you owe me one.”
“Thanks, Lupito.” He grins, but his smile evaporates before the door even closes behind us.
Aaron is at the edge of the parking lot, still on the verge of exploding. “Who was that woman?” he asks when we reach him. “And what did you do to make her want to rip your head off?”
That question is for me, but Daniel doesn’t give me a chance to answer it. “Call Sam. Tell him to meet us at the office. Python.”
Daniel emphasizes the word, and judging from the look on Aaron’s face, it means something to the two of them aside from snakes, computer programming, or British comedy. Aaron nods and then gives me an apologetic glance before darting off in the other direction—toward his car, I guess. I’d much rather ride with him, but Deo and I apparently don’t get to choose our mode of transportation.
“I’m not on antipsychotics,” I say as we follow Daniel. “The only thing I take is sleeping meds, and I don’t even have them with me.”
Daniel pulls a bottle out of his jacket pocket and tosses it to me.
I stop under the streetlight at the edge of the parking lot and hold it up so I can read the label. Sure enough, it’s my prescription. “How did you get this?”
“He confiscated it from my bag,” Deo growls. “Along with the pepper spray and the other . . . thing . . . we carry sometimes.”
By which he means one of my old kneesocks filled with pennies.
“What the . . .” I stop and stare at him. “You were supposed to toss those out, D!”
I’ll be the first to admit that the spray and the sock both came in handy during the weeks Deo and I were sleeping in culverts or under bridges. There was one night in particular where I don’t even want to think what might have happened if I hadn’t pulled that spray out of my pocket when two men sneaked up on us in the middle of the night. But Deo knows as well as I do that we’re not supposed to have stuff like that at Bartholomew House. Or, technically, at all, given that we’re both minors.
Daniel sighs. “Could we just get to my car before Baker stops us?”
We pick up the pace, and once we’re walking again, Daniel tells Deo, “The medicine is a controlled substance, not prescribed for you. I was simply making sure it was returned to its owner. And Baker could have written you up for the pepper spray if you’d had it on you. Just so you know.”
“Pretty sure there’s no law against keeping pennies in a sock.”
“Shh.” I squeeze Deo’s arm, as we slide into the backseat of the sedan.
Daniel walks around to the driver’s seat, and Deo whispers, “Grabbed the meds from your room, along with a change of clothes. I stuffed those other things inside the lining of my bag when I first got to Bart House . . . in case we ever needed to get out of there quickly. I forgot they were even in the bag when I grabbed it.”
“It’s okay.”
“What happened in there, anyway? Who was that woman?”
Daniel looks over his shoulder and catches my eye as he backs the car out of the parking space. “I’d kind of like to hear the answer to that first question myself. She had Baker turn off the cameras before she spoke to either of you.”
“I’ll answer his first question after you answer the second one. Who—” I stop abruptly and look over at Deo. “Wait. She talked to you, too?”
“Well, not really. She shook my hand. Asked me my name. And asked me how I knew Molly. I didn’t tell her anything, though. Said I didn’t even know anyone named Molly. I don’t know if she believed me or not. She just watched me for a minute, then smiled and closed the door. She was weird. Nice shoes, though.”
“Before or after me?”
“What? I don’t—”
“Did she talk to Deo before or after me?” I yell at Daniel.
“After you. Why?”
“Damn it.” I slump down in the seat and rub my face. “Did you notice anything, D? A weird feeling, kind of like a buzz across your forehead?”
Daniel’s head jerks upward. I can see his eyes in the mirror. His very brown eyes, despite what he told the Badea woman. They seem alarmed, and I’ve got the strangest feeling that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Did she try her little trick on him, too?
“Yeah,” Deo says, after a few seconds’ reflection. “Now that you mention it, I did. I thought it was a sugar rush. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so I grabbed a Butterfinger and a Coke from the vending machine, and I kind of wolfed them down right before she came in. So . . . what do you think it was?”