Loyalty by Ingrid Thoft Read Free Book Online Page B

Melanie’s stash was equally boring; pricey, neutral-colored French bras and panties were neatly laid out in the top drawer of the bureau. The other drawers held neat stacks of designer clothes. The walk-in closet was vast but, thankfully, organized, and if Melanie had packed a bag or hit the road with clothes, it certainly wasn’t obvious. Not that it would be, given the size of her wardrobe.
    Moving on to the master bath, Fina found Melanie’s ridiculously large collection of firming lotions and moisturizers. There was a drawer of skin care samples from Neiman Marcus, which she pocketed before opening another drawer to continue the search. Beneath the standard over-the-counter pills, Fina found bottles of Xanax and Valium with Melanie’s name on them, which she slipped in her bag. Was it her, or are parents just stupid? You have a teenage daughter with shoddy judgment, and you leave prescription drugs in your bathroom? Duh.
    The sound of a TV drifted down from the loft on the third floor, so Fina slinked into Haley’s room. It was straight out of a furniture catalog or a teen magazine. The walls were painted lavender, and filmy white curtains hung from the top of the large windows. The bedding on the queen-size bed was sky blue and lavender striped, and the shaggy rug stretching across the floor was light blue with large white polka dots. There were a dozen pillows of various sizes topping the bed. The surfaces of the white painted furniture were clear, with monogrammed fabric boxes neatly stacked on shelves. The floor was free of clothing, and when Fina opened the door of the large walk-in closet, she was greeted by a color-coded spectrum of neatly hanging clothes.
    It reminded Fina of her own teenage room, a memory that never ceased to piss her off. Elaine had always insisted that Fina’s room be neat and tidy, and she had no compunction about barging in and rearranging things. First of all, Elaine had thousands of other square feet to rule, and secondly, whatever happened to having an outlet for a little self-expression? Teenagers have to get their ya-yas out somehow, and having a pigsty for a bedroom seemed to be a healthy way to do that. The alternatives—like banging the boys’ lacrosse team—were undoubtedly more unsavory than an unmade bed.
    The neatness of the room made Fina’s search easy, but she paid special attention to the hiding places she’d employed as a teenager—zippered suitcase pockets, shoes, the underside of desk drawers. She did find a small stash in one of the hollowed-out compartments of the box spring, but decided to leave the dime bag and rolling papers. She didn’t want Haley to know about her little search. When Fina was a teenager, she’d hidden a bag of revealing clothes in the deep recesses of her closet and would stuff it in her backpack and change after leaving the house. Given the current state of teenagers’ clothing, this was no longer necessary; walking around buck naked was the only uncharted territory.
    Fina climbed the stairs to the loft and found Haley sprawled on a leather sectional. Her niece was beautiful, with long, blond hair and a knockout figure. There was no question that her body was leaps and bounds more advanced than her brain. She was wearing gray sweat shorts, and her midriff was exposed in a clingy tank top. Fina sat on the arm of the couch and watched the TV for a moment. It was a reality show featuring buff guys and seemingly sex-crazed girls.
No wonder the rest of the world thinks Americans are idiots,
she thought.
    “Don’t even start the lecture,” Haley said, looking up at Fina.
    “What lecture?”
    “The ‘there’s too much sex and too much drinking on these shows, blah, blah, blah’ lecture.”
    Fina shrugged. “I don’t care if you have bad taste in entertainment.”
    Haley snorted. “Thanks.”
    “I’ve been calling you for days.”
    “I’ve been busy.”
    “Doing what?” Fina asked incredulously.
    “Just . . .