Nothing.
Shoving everything back inside, she did the same to the lower drawers, even pulling the dresser away from the wall, wondering if maybe it fell behind. Again, no box.
Ari turned to the bed, straightening the covers and looking under the pillows, one by one.
“Where did you go?” she mumbled, turning on the bedside lamp, and there it was. On the small table on top of the book she’d been reading. Tiny gold flowers glinting in the light.
Not where she left it. She would’ve sworn on it.
Ari wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d moved the box when she got home, but she had been giddy over her kisses with Nick, not to mention sleepy from the drinks at the bar. She couldn’t remember clearly, and obviously no one had broken in—the house was empty when she came home and the alarm had been set. Judging from the muffled banging through the wall, Oliver hadn’t noticed anything unusual when he and Veronica had gotten home.
Ari turned off the overhead light and got back into bed. She picked up the heavy box and opened the lid slowly. Inside she found the note, exactly as she’d left it.
Clutching the box in her hand, Ari drifted back to sleep, thinking of mystery men and secret messages.
* * *
Ari spent the weekend fighting a hangover, dodging questions from Oliver, and catching up on paperwork. Monday morning yielded a staff meeting where her boss’s boss, Mr. Lincoln, attempted to enforce a new dress code—less casual—and by the time it was over, the stack of pink slips from missed calls sent Ari into a full blown meltdown.
“I spent four hours yesterday catching up on my files so I could tackle my already overwhelming to-do list, and a two-hour meeting, about not wearing denim, just set me back two more days! I can’t catch a break!” Ari paced around Stanton’s office waving the pink papers around as evidence.
“I hear you girl. Things are swamped right now.” He pointed to the organized stack on his desk as though that represented “swamped” or something. Everything in his office was neat and orderly. The photos of his family on the shelf behind his desk. The neatly stacked “In” and “Out” trays. “These kids can’t stay out of trouble for a minute. But you know how this operates. Better jump on this stuff now or it’ll only get worse.”
Ari rolled her eyes and said in the most sarcastic voice she could manage, “Thanks for the pep talk, Coach.”
“That’s what I’m here for!” he yelled as she slammed her office door.
Ari dropped in her desk chair and reached for the phone. Time she stopped having temper tantrums and started returning some of her calls. She flipped through the papers and noticed one was from the juvenile counselor, Mrs. Cox, with the subject listed as: Hope.
Ari knew Mrs. Cox only called when necessary. She was responsible for hundreds of girls and their emotional needs while in detention at the courthouse. Ari pressed number three on the speed dial.
“Counselor’s office.”
“Mrs. Cox, its Ari. I just got your message about Hope. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, everything is fine. I got a notice today, though, that she’s up for release. Did you get one of these?”
Ari dug though the pile of papers on her desk but there was nothing with Hope’s name on it. “Nope. Nothing here.”
“It seems like a rush of some sort. Like they couldn’t make the case or something.”
Juvenile court wasn’t like a regular adult court where you had to present solid evidence for a case. Once a child was in the custody of the state, all additional crimes were considered off of that original case. A panel determined sentencing and placement, not the judge. Ari frowned and said, “That sounds weird. Where did this come from?”
“Let me see,” Mrs. Cox said. Ari heard her ruffling papers on her desk. “Judge Hatcher signed the paperwork. This sort of thing happened all the time due to overcrowding.
“Guess it’s legit, then. When do I need to get her?”
“By five or I’ll have to release her to her family or something. I know you’d rather get to her first.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Before Ari hung up, she asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What do you think about this prostitution story Hope is spreading?”