Scout lifted her sunglasses, too taken by shock to consider her disguise. “That whole night, at his Christmas party—remember how desperate we were to impress him?”
“Mallory was sixteen when these were taken,” Rick said. “Lila about fainted with happiness. Underage girlanda movie star’s daughter.” He tapped the photos. “She knew there was no way he could wiggle out of that, not with Hardy’s relationship with the networks. Here, I’ll find you another underage one…” He started shuffling.
“Wait.” Scout practically slapped Rick’s hands away. He backed off, wary, and she pulled out a photo he was about to toss.
It was Easton on the USC campus—I would recognize that red brick anywhere. It had to be fall or winter, because he wore a light jacket, one of those Carhartt styles rich guys wear to feel like working men. He had his arm around the waist of a young blond, pulling her into his side.
It was Georgia.
I staggered back from the table.
“Yeah,” Rick said, oblivious. “He started seeing this college chick after the high school one, so at least he moved up in age, but Lila wasn’t interested—”
“Please.” Scout’s voice was wrecked. “Stop talking.”
Georgia… and Easton? The whole time, they were… Jesus. I couldn’t even bring myself to think what was right in front of my face.
Scout seized the file, ripping through the photos. Georgia and Easton kissing outside her dorm. Georgia and Easton in the corner of some moody, sophisticated restaurant that looked far too expensive. Georgia in a tiny black dress—one of Scout’s; I remembered it vividly, we all fought over it—sitting with Easton, Reese, and Gabriel at the Serpent Room. The green velvet rope shone like a beacon in the dim light of the club. Rick had snapped a whole series there: Georgia laughing, Georgia and Easton making out, Easton’s hand sliding up her dress…
Nausea hit me. I ripped my eyes from the photos, only to find Brooks watching me, the ocean blue of his eyes gone dark. He stepped forward just as I buckled, catching me as I went limp. I let him cradle me, pressing my face into his chest so there would be one sensation other than the nerve-searing shock.
Scout gagged like she was struggling to breathe, and it pulled me back. I stepped out of Brooks’s arms and wrapped my own around her.
“I take it this girl means something to you?” Rick asked.
Scout stepped abruptly away, looking up at him and searching his face. “Did he hurt her? Please, tell me the truth. Did you ever see Easton hurt the girl in these photos?”
Slowly, Rick shook his head. “No. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t do it where I couldn’t see. Guys like him can afford a lot of privacy.”
Scout looked at me, a single tear sliding down her cheek. That’s when I realized she was cradling the photos of Georgia to her chest. “He was her boyfriend,” she said.
“I know.”
“This is why she wouldn’t tell us.”
“Or Alden.” I pressed my hands into my eyes, wanting to erase the images. “The night of the Christmas party. Do you think…”
Scout pulled the photos from her chest and studied them. “When she left Alden, she must’ve met up with Easton.” She shook her head. “But when we realized Georgia was missing, he was there, remember? He was across the room, talking to Reese. We were mad she wasn’t there to introduce us.”
Brooks cleared his throat. “Georgia was killed in a two-hour window. He could’ve done it, then come back to the party.”
I was going to be sick.
“Not to interrupt private business,” Rick said, sounding uncomfortable with the turn our conversation had taken. “But these are the pictures I’ve been waiting to sell.” He held up a handful of glossy photos and tipped them toward Scout. “My little treasure chest.”
“I think we’re going to need a minute.” Brooks had moved so close I could feel his body heat warming my chilled skin, a closeness that was right on the edge of possessive.
“No.” Scout ran a hand under her eyes, scrubbing her face. “I want to see everything.”
Rick laid the last few photos on the table. We were back at the Serpent Room—it must’ve been a regular haunt for Easton’s crew. He, Reese, and Gabriel were the only men in the shot. They looked otherworldly, their eyes glassy, pupils blown, wide smiles contorted in a way that resembled the exaggerated grin of a wolf. I’d never seen anyone so obviously out of their minds.
“Drugs?” Brooks asked.
“Definitely,” said Rick. “And see these two?” He pointed to the only other people in the shot—two young women, both wearing the standard green velvet uniforms of the Serpent bottle girls. One was blond, the other dark-haired, and they were both curled on the couch, their bottle-service duties clearly over, morphing into something more intimate. “These two women were reported missing the day after I took these pictures. They were never found.”
It took a moment for the weight of what Rick was saying to sink in. Brooks got there first.
“Why the hell didn’t you turn this evidence over to law enforcement?”
