HIKRGURL
OMG, Mamas! I was trying out my new Burley D’Lite bike trailer and there was lots of action when I rode by the Gus Fruh entrance to the greenbelt. I slowed down and saw six uniformed cops gathered around something. I’m scared.
COFFEEISLIFE
Oh, no. Do you think it was a body? Also—unrelated—is the D’Lite worth the splurge?
HIKRGURL
No, it wasn’t a body. Something small—a guy in normal clothes was showing the cops something in his hands. I should have snapped a pic. I don’t know what it was. An animal? Jesus.
***And YES! My husband almost killed me when he saw the $850 charge but the D’Lite is awesome.
PACIFICHEIGHTS4EVER
I will head over to Gus Fruh with the triplets now to see what I can find out. I bet it was drug paraphernalia…needles, pipes…Always was in San Francisco~
COFFEEISLIFE
Ha, maybe you should change your name, @pacificheights4ever! Don’t blame you, BTW.
PACIFICHEIGHTS4EVER
Sigh. #truth. Guess I am@pacificheightsuntilIgetmuggedinbroaddaylightandthenImovetoAustin
COFFEEISLIFE
Ugh, I’m sorry. Let us know what you find out by Gus Fruh.
-15-
Whitney
WHITNEY DROVE TOO FAST,taking the turn into the Four Seasons without waiting for oncoming traffic. “Whoa!” cried Geoff MacKenzie. Whitney slowed in front of the Residence entrance. “I apologize,” she said.
“What’s going on?” said Geoff petulantly. He played with the zipper of his hoodie, moving it up and down, trying to self-soothe. (Whitney, her sister’s locket clasped in her palm, could relate.) He’d finished four Red Bulls and his hands were shaking.
“It’s a personal matter,” said Whitney. “I really am sorry. I’ll be in touch to reschedule.”
Whitney saw the kid pout and consider telling her (again) about the value of his time. On a normal day, she would placate, cajole, flatter, flirt. But not today. “You know…” Geoff began.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch. I really am sorry,” said Whitney.
“Wow, OK,” said Geoff. He crossed his arms across his belly. (Why, though they lived on Soylent and Red Bull, wereall the young millionaires chubby?) Whitney hit the button on her key fob, and the falcon door unfurled. Geoff climbed out, and when he was standing on the sidewalk, he glared at Whitney, inhaling in preparation for giving her a piece of his mind. Whitney clicked the button to close the passenger door (as silly as it was, she did adore the key, shaped like a mini-Tesla in her hand), and the sleek wing fit snugly into place before Geoff could convey his wrath. Whitney put the car in gear and depressed the pedal, zipping soundlessly forward, leaving Geoff openmouthed, still working his sweatshirt zipper.
Jules called as she merged onto Lamar heading south. She answered, and her husband’s plummy voice rang through the premium sound system. “Darling?” said Jules. “I hear you have an emergency?” Jules didn’t like thinking about “personal matters” at work, so she knew the “darling” took some effort.
“It’s family,” said Whitney.
“Noted,” said Jules. He took her off speaker and went into the soundproof room, its door to the left of his desk in their shared office. (Only Whitney and Jules knew about the room; it required a retina scan to enter.)
“Carry on,” he said, after a moment.
“Oh, Jules,” said Whitney, “we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Xavier just called me from work. He says Charlie thinks he left a kneepad on the greenbelt. With hisname and addresson it.”
