Y is for Yesterday (Kinsey Millhone #25)

“Tell me again.”

“My mom cooked up this whole story about him. She claimed she met him at a fancy ski resort and they had a passionate affair. When she found out she was pregnant, he stood by her. He wouldn’t go so far as proposing marriage, but he promised financial support. Then he died in an avalanche and she ended up raising me on her own. All I ever had of him was a photograph and that was a laugh. Turned out to be some famous European skier she’d never even met. She cut the picture out of a magazine and put it in a frame. When I was ten, I came across the exact same photo in a ski magazine and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought he was still alive. No such luck. She’d lied about everything.”

“So who was your birth father?”

“No clue. She told me later it was a one-night stand, but that’s probably a lie as well. I finally gave up. I mean, what difference does it make when my stepdad is such a good guy?”

“You’re not tempted to investigate?”

“Based on what? Whoever he is, he’s probably a jerk. Otherwise, he’d have taken responsibility.”

“If he’s alive, you might have grounds for a lawsuit. Assuming he promised financial support.”

“Good luck with that idea,” she said. “Oh. Quick request while I’m thinking about it.”

Smiling, he said, “What?”

“I need a day to myself. My room’s a mess and my mom’s on my case.”

He surveyed his surroundings. “Doesn’t look bad to me.”

“Are you kidding? Place is a pigsty.”

“So it’s a pigsty. I can help.”

“Don’t think so, but thanks. It’s a one-person job. Usually I turn up the sound on my stereo, so conversation’s impossible anyway. She’ll want me to do a closet purge and take stuff to Goodwill.”

“Fine. We’ll connect when you’re done and take Butch for a walk.”

“Don’t you have things to do on your own?”

“Nope. My time belongs to you.”

“Sweet,” she said. “I, on the other hand, could use some breathing room. I have chores piled up you wouldn’t believe.”

“Chores? You don’t do chores. Name one.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

She should have picked up the warning in his tone, but she was intent on painting her toenails. “Shit.” She reached down and deftly swiped a spot of polish from one toe. “Mostly what I need is downtime. Not a lot, but a little bit. This much.” She held her thumb and index finger a quarter of an inch apart.

Austin’s tone had chilled. “Maybe I misunderstood. Are you telling me you need space?”

“No, I don’t need space. All I’m talking about is one day.”

“Are you tired of me?”

“That’s not it at all. Don’t turn this into a federal case.”

“You don’t have to be huffy. It’s a simple question.”

“Which I answered.”

“Because if you’re bored or irritated by my company, I can take a hike. No problem. In fact, I can make it permanent. Give you all the time alone you want.”

“I’m not irritated or bored.”

“Well, that’s not what I’m hearing. You talk like you can’t wait to get away.”

“Forget it. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. Say anything you like.”

“You’ll just take it wrong.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Austin, you’re turning this into World War Three when all I wanted was an afternoon to myself.”

“Oh, I see. First it was a day and now you’re saying you want an ‘afternoon,’ so which is it?”

“Get off it. You’re being a butt.”

“So now suddenly it’s my fault? Something I’m doing to you?”

Sloan murmured something darkly to herself, not looking at him.

Exasperated, he said, “You know, I’ve heard this crap before and it’s just an excuse. I’d prefer it if you’d come right out and tell me the truth. Is there someone else?”

“How could there be someone else when we spend every fucking minute together?”

He seemed to stiffen before her eyes. “I didn’t realize my company was so offensive. I beg a thousand pardons for the imposition. I wish you’d spoken up sooner so I could have relieved you of the burden before it became so onerous.”

When she looked up, she realized he’d left the room.

She made a face to herself. Horse’s ass. What was that about?

She was on the verge of jumping up and following him downstairs, but she heard the front door slam and decided she’d better give him time to cool off. She wasn’t sure where this little fit had come from, but it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason.

On Monday when she saw him at school, he cut her dead and he hadn’t spoken to her since. When the shunning came up, it was simply an extension of the big freeze. Until now.

Sloan locked herself in her room and watched the tape she’d stolen from Fritz. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. She was acutely embarrassed at what she saw. All she could think about was Poppy, who was so crazy about Troy. She’d die if she saw this. There was Iris, stark naked and behaving like a slut; Fritz acting like a fool; Troy with a hard-on, greasing his dick with Crisco so he could stick it in her friend. Sloan looked on with disbelief, mortified by the sexual shenanigans unfolding before her eyes. It wasn’t until the cut-away to Austin that Sloan felt her attention shift. Austin was the director? The man in charge? What kind of scumbag was he? There was something so pathetic about Iris asking him for a kiss when he’d engineered this entire assault. Of course, Iris was an exhibitionist who’d do anything for attention. But there sat Austin, superior and above it all, smirking at the “boys,” who were practically wetting themselves with excitement while Iris was completely out of it. Sloan watched the tape a second time, rage sparking to life.

Oh yes, the shunning would stop. The shunning would now most definitely come to a screeching halt.

She intercepted Austin at his car in the Climp parking lot the following Monday afternoon. Students streamed out of the building, moving toward their vehicles. Some turned to look at the pair with curiosity, knowing the shunning was Austin’s doing, wondering if the encounter between the two was the prelude to a showdown. Sloan wasn’t sure Austin would even speak to her, but since in his view she’d rejected him, she reasoned that he’d be avid to hear what she had to say. He’d expect an apology. He’d imagine her groveling, hoping to get back in his good graces.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“By all means. Be my guest. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“It’s about the shunning.”

“What about it?”

“I didn’t write that note. I didn’t contact the school. I didn’t tell anyone what Troy and Poppy did. I’d never do such a thing and you know it.”

Austin studied her with mock concern. “That’s not the word on the street.”

“What ‘word on the street’? You did this. You instigated the whole deal. Nobody talks to me. No one looks me in the eye.”

“You credit me with too much power. I’m flattered, but I can’t force your friends to snub you. How would I do that?”

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