"Yeah." She eyed me with obvious disgust. "That makes two of us."
"So tell me," I said. "Is Chloe even your real name?"
"What the hell?" she said. "Of course it's my real name."
"Look," I said, feeling my lips twist into a sneer, "you think you're the first girl to try to pull this kind of shit on me?"
"I wasn't pulling anything," she insisted. "Now, are you gonna let me go, or what?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?" she demanded. "What are you waiting for? What are you planning to do? Kill me for whatever you think I've done?" She glared up at me. "Which, by the way, I haven't."
"No," I said. "Believe what you want, but I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Except you already have."
It was true. I had. But hell if I'd be groveling about it now. "Sorry."
"You don't sound sorry."
I shrugged.
She rattled the cuffs. "Then what exactly are you waiting for?"
"Well, here's the thing," I said. "Yeah, I was in that house of yours, or whoever's, and I saw all that shit you had laid out, but I got to wondering what else was there."
She shook her head. "What do you mean, what else?"
"I mean," I said, "videos, pictures, you know, the kind of crap that's gonna turn some waitress into a fuckin' star."
She lifted her chin. "There's nothing wrong with being a waitress."
"Except you obviously don't think that way. Otherwise, you wouldn't needthis, would you?"
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the other phone, hers. At the sight of it, she closed her eyes, cringing like she didn't want to look.
Yeah, I knew the feeling. My voice grew hard. "Open your eyes."
Slowly, she did. When her gaze landed on the screen, color flooded her cheeks. Embarrassment? Yeah, I knew that feeling, too. I waited, wondering if she'd own up to it.
She closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, her voice grew quiet. "I took it by accident."
An accident? Was that the best she could do? I waited.
She made a sound of impatience. "It's a new phone. Did you even see all the other pictures on there?"
"So this was an accident, huh?" I held the phone closer. "Pretty good composition for something you didn't mean to take."
"Yeah? Well, scroll through them," she said. "Show me one other picture that looks like I took it on purpose. Just one."
"I already did."
"Do it again."
With one eye on Chloe, I scrolled through the pictures. I saw the same images as before – some pretty bad shots of Chucky, some of her dashboard, one of a kitchen light fixture. None of me. Well, other than the naked one, that is.
I stopped scrolling. "This doesn't prove anything."
