“First we figure out the missing boys, then the bats.”
I nod in agreement, taking a giant bite of my cake.
He gets it.
Chapter Three
BAM
In all my imaginings about Josie, I couldn’t have come up with the story she just told, and I don’t even know if it’s true. Caves, jail breaks, wanted posters. Those seem out there, but her delivery was so good that I wanted to believe.
Josie is hot and fun. What a combo. I wonder what she’d do if I threw her in the back of my truck and introduced her to a different kind of fun. Like, would she put a 44 bullet through my chest or pull on my ears and wrap her legs around my neck? Could be both, and that’s what makes life exciting. Since I’m going to be her Watson, I tell her about finding Cole.
The shock on her expressive face is almost comical.
“Where do we start?” I finish the dry fries. “Do you need to get home?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “Dad’s on the road until Friday so no, but how about you? What’s your family sitch?”
“You’re looking at it.” I spread my arms out wide, one set of fingers reaching the window. I drop my arms as a subtle but familiar expression shifts on Josie’s face. It’s pity, which I hate. I hold up a hand. “Wait, no need for that look. I get to eat ice cream for breakfast and game until two in the morning with no one checking on me. It’s all good.”
She quickly schools her face so that it’s blank. “I never said it wasn’t. I have those days, too, so I know they can be fun.”
“Great, we’re on the same page.” Even if she’s just saying it to placate me, I’ll take it. I don’t mind danger, but sympathy can stay in the pocket. “Let’s circle back. What do you want to do?”
“I should look at the body. Investigate the scene. You say someone took you there? How did he find it?”
I schnick my tongue against the back of my teeth. “You ever see a dead body before?”
“On TV.”
“It’s not the same.”
“How many dead bodies have you seen?” She crinkles her nose.
“More than one, less than a dozen. I’m not a fan.” The first dead body I came across was my old man’s. The next one was my mom’s. Those were not great experiences.
“If I’m going to be a real investigator, though, I have to. I can put Vaseline under my nose if you’re worried the smell will bother me.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
She flutters a finger beneath her nose. “Some pros put petroleum jelly under their noses so the decomposing bodies don’t get to them, but I’ve read that it’s not always effective and that the smell is not that bad.”
“I can’t say.” The bodies of my parents were fresh when I found them. The only smell I remember was like old pennies. “I took photos. You could take a look at those and see if you need more.”
She wiggles her fingers in a gimme motion. I unlock my phone and push it over to her side.
“You don’t mind if I go through this?” She starts flicking.
“Don’t have much on there.”
“No social media apps? No games? I see you do have Netflix. That saves you from being a sociopath.”
“Does it, though? Maybe I’m watching shows to figure out how to better mimic human behavior.”
“To be honest, your friend—with the shaved head—” She smooths her hand over her hair. I love how she is always gesturing, always talking with her hands. I could watch her for hours and not be bored. “He seems like the type to watch shows to mimic humans but not you. Your smile is too real.”
A grin breaks across my face. “You like my smile, do you?”
