loathed them. These girls were the last people on earth I wanted to see.
“What are you doing here?” Courtney seemed genuinely astonished. Which, with her intellect, was routine. “Surely you can’t debut now? Not after what you did to Hannah.”
“After what I did?” I spoke without thought. “To her ? Seriously?”
Courtney nodded, wide-eyed, blonde curls bouncing. Her microscopic blue dress struggled hard to cover a perfect figure. Sapphire jewelry sparkled in the afternoon sunshine.
“You’re a criminal,” she said, dead serious. “You make people go crazy!”
The Tripod stood shoulder to shoulder before me. I felt trapped.
“I don’t know how you stayed active.” Ashley brushed glossy black hair from her eyes. “But what I can’t get is why . No one wants you here. You must know that.”
Okay. That hurt.
Madison giggled. She was the nastiest—the Tripod’s front foot. Hair, nails, and makeup flawless, she practically glowed with expensive excess.
Madison also had a crush on Jason. His fascination with me did not go over well.
Where was he? I could’ve used his attention right then.
“The word’s out, Tory,” Madison said cruelly. “Everyone knows you’re a freak. Whose house do you plan to rob next?”
Enough. Three against one, and they weren’t pulling punches. Time to retreat.
To my left was a clubhouse door. I strode over and tried to shoulder it open. It didn’t budge.
Laughter erupted behind me.
“Try pulling, sweetie.” Madison.
“And don’t muss your rented clothing,” Ashley added.
“That is a nice dress,” Courtney said, oblivious as always. “I wonder how she got it? Is there, like, a Goodwill thing for debs or something?”
Our face-off had begun to draw a crowd. I hated the attention.
Madison, however, relished an audience. She moved in for the kill.
“Maybe you should find another activity, Tory.” Chilly smile. “One more suited for someone like you.”
Ashley and Courtney nodded.
Humiliated, I yanked the door open and fled inside.
“So long!” Madison called. “We’ll be here all season!”
Spiteful giggles followed me into the air-conditioned darkness.
CHAPTER 9
T he doors banged shut behind me.
I sped down a red-carpeted hall, past trophy cases, model ships, and massive murals depicting ancient ocean voyages.
The setting barely registered. My emotions were on tilt.
Get away. Get calm .
The cowardly mantra kept looping inside my head.
Get away. Get calm.
Eventually the hallway dumped me into a lavish dining hall. A gigantic mahogany table occupied the center of the room, surrounded by chairs adorned with embroidered cushions. On the far wall, sunlight poured through huge windows overlooking the harbor. The air reeked of wood polish and fresh linen.
The grandeur of the chamber stopped me in my tracks.
“Swank.” The empty room swallowed my whispered comment.
Hands on hips, I breathed deep, trying to regroup mentally. Slowly, my shaking legs steadied.
I considered my options. Return to the party? No chance. I was done with awkward circling for the day.
Bail? Sure, but how? My ride wasn’t due for an hour.
As I dithered, undecided, a painting caught my eye. Bold and colorful, it stood out from all others decorating the walls.
I stepped closer for a better look.
Oil on canvas. Cedar frame. Old, more weathered than the surrounding paintings, but somehow more vibrant as well. All blues and reds and splashes of yellow. Eye-catching, but clearly not a masterpiece.
Unlike the dour males staring down around me, the subject of this portrait was a woman—a lady swashbuckler dressed in men’s clothing. She stood on the deck of a ship at sea, auburn hair streaming, a pistol in one hand and a dagger in the other.
Captivated, I tried to make out the vessel’s name. No go. I checked the portrait’s curved wooden frame for a nameplate, title, artist, anything.
“Admiring young Bonny, eh?”
I started at the voice. Turned.
A man