“But what if he was involved in her disappearance?”
“Hmm…I hadn’t thought of that.” The thought that Rosalie’s killer could be anyone at this camp sent chills down my spine. “How can we find any clues if we can’t ask people about her?”
Tanner gestured to the wall of the mess hall. It was covered in more art than the wall of a TGIF. But instead of random album covers and canoes, these were pictures from the camp.Jackpot!
I jammed the rest of my waffles in my mouth and ran over to the wall. With so many photos, she had to be in at least one of them.
But…she wasn’t.
We spent hours looking, but I didn’t see a single girl that could possibly be her.
“Are you sure you looked at all of those?” I asked, gesturing to the half of the wall that Tanner had been responsible for searching.
Tanner nodded.
“Even the people in the background?”
“Yup. I checked them all twice. She’s not in any of them.” He pulled a photo off the wall and checked the back. It was from two months ago. We checked a few more, and they had all been taken within the last year.
“Well that explains it,” I said. “Think they have an archive of old photos?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t you like…have access to their databases and stuff? Shouldn’t you know?” I was pretty sure he’d said that on the way here, but his face had been very distracting…
“No. And even if I did, what kind of horrible micromanager do you think I am?”
Oh God.The word micromanager reminded me of Mr. Frost and his promise to come up with something better than the binder. Just thinking about it reminded me how thoroughly exhausted I was. If I was going to get any solid detective work done, it would only happen after I got some rest.
“Let’s call it a night,” I said. “I’m sure something will turn up tomorrow. And I want to make sure we’re well rested so we can kick Cole’s ass.”
This Is War - Chapter 20 - Society Wars
Saturday – September 23, 2023
“Rise and shine!” said a sing-songy voice.
I opened my eyes just in time to see a girl yank open the curtains. The morning sun hit me right in the eyes.
I put my hands up to block it. “What the hell? Who are you?!”
She turned around. “It’s me. Frankie.”
I squinted to make sure it was really Frankie and not some serial killer. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your handmaid for the day, milady.” She gave an exaggerated curtsey.
“Handmaid?” Everyone in the Society had such weird jobs. First Cole was a liftman, then a card shark, and now he was a camp counselor. And Frankie had gone from a real estate agent to Ocelot’s assistant to now being my handmaid. Whatever the hell that meant.
“Yeah. You’re the princess of the red team. Of course you have a handmaid.” She said it as if it made all the sense in the world.
“Right…”
Frankie plopped a breakfast platter in front of me. “Eat up.”
Maybe having a handmaid isn’t so bad after all.I scarfed down the eggs and bacon while Frankie heated up a straightening iron and organized her makeup bag.
“So what are my duties as princess?” I asked. I had a feeling that I was about to find out why Cole had been able to get me into the princess suite on such late notice.
