We only know that it made those who drank it pretty stoned out of their heads. I still remember watching Carmen stare into the flames of the fire as if she were ready to walk into them.
Then there was Rory. She’d been crowned homecoming queen at the game, and on a dare, she drank a red plastic cup full of hairy buffalo.
Big mistake.
I warned her, but she was high on life that night. She was the Snow Creek homecoming queen—the most beautiful and popular girl in school.
She drank it down, and to this day, she still says it is the sweetest concoction she’s ever tasted. Thankfully, she didn’t drink any more of it, or she might have ended up next to Diana in the hospital.
That was the start.
We found out who’d spiked the hairy buffalo.
Pat Lamone.
And he tried to destroy us for it.
Rory’s staring out the window from our table at Rita’s. I have no doubt she’s replaying the same episode in her mind.
In the end, we didn’t turn Lamone in, for reasons that seemed valid at the time.
Now he’s back.
“Diana Steel,” I say. “Funny how I’d forgotten her part in all this.”
“She didn’t play a part,” Rory says. “She was a victim, like I was. Like Carmen was. Like many were.”
“Yeah, I know. I just mean, Donny and all… His sister. Maybe…”
“No,” Rory says flatly.
“He could help.”
“The only way he can help is to pay off Lamone, and you won’t ask him to do that.”
She’s not wrong.
“I wonder,” I say, “how the Steels handled it back then. You and I were so involved in our own issues that we didn’t pay any attention to Diana and what this cost her.”
“Other than a few days in the hospital, it didn’t cost her anything. She’s far from the first young girl to get alcohol poisoning.”
“It wasn’t just the alcohol.”
“True.” Rory sighs. “I wonder what it was.”
“There’s one way to find out.”
She shakes her head. “If he wouldn’t tell us then, he’s sure not going to tell us now.”
“I’m not talking about Lamone,” I say. “I’m talking about Diana’s hospital records.”
Rory’s eyebrows fly upward. “Callie, you’re the legal scholar. You know hospital records are confidential.”
“Of course I know that,” I snap without meaning to. “But there are ways.”
“Oh my God…”
“It’s just a thought, Ror.”
“I know. It’s the thought of a desperate person. I get it.” She takes a drink of her soda. “Why the hell is he back?”
“We could have destroyed him then,” I say, “just as he could have destroyed us.”
“So the only reason he’d come back…”
“Is if he knew we couldn’t get to him,” I finish for her. “Which means…”
“He got hold of the evidence?” Rory’s knuckles go white around her glass. “How could he have? It’s in a safe place.”
“Is it? When’s the last time you checked?”
Rory bites her lip. “I haven’t. I hate going there.”
“Me too, but I don’t think we have a choice.”
She sighs. “Yeah. We don’t. Tonight?”
“I guess. In the meantime, we need to bring Jordan and Carmen in on this.”
“Do we? I know we said we would, but you and I are the ones who…”
She doesn’t finish, and I don’t blame her. She doesn’t like to even think the words, let alone say them. I get it. I’m the same way.
And for the first time, I actually consider bringing Donny in on this. Maybe Rory’s right. He could wave his magic wand of money and make this go away. But I’ve never depended on anyone other than myself to get out of scrapes, and I’m not going to start now.
“I can’t take a day off to drive to Denver,” I say.
“We shouldn’t have to, if everything’s still in place.”
“I suppose not. Why the hell is he here?” I say more loudly than I mean to.
“Why is who here?”
I jerk at the voice that comes from behind me.
Rory’s eyes widen. “Carmen,” she says.
Carmen Murphy, red-haired like all the Murphys and beautiful to boot, holds a cup of coffee. “Can I join you guys?”
I can’t help myself. I look around. We were talking about Jordan and Carmen mere minutes ago, deciding to leave them out of this, and then Carmen shows up. Is the universe trying to tell us something?
“Sure,” I say. I’m sick of talking about Pat Lamone anyway. I give Rory a side-eye, hoping she’ll know it means to stay silent on Lamone.
Until—
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you guys,” Carmen says. “Pat Lamone is back in town.”
Chapter Nine
Donny
Lambert revels me with tales of his latest conquests from a strip club in Denver while we wait for Debbie to bring our lunch. When she finally does—service at Lorenzo’s isn’t great, especially for a new place—he dives right in.
The man’s determined to make me sweat.
I twirl my spaghetti on my fork, forcing each bite into my mouth. I normally love any kind of Italian food, but the sauce is like battery acid today. It’s eating away at my mouth and throat. I swallow, each time more difficult.