Secret Worlds (573 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Hamilton,Conner Kressley,Rainy Kaye,Debbie Herbert,Aimee Easterling,Kyoko M.,Caethes Faron,Susan Stec,Linsey Hall,Noree Cosper,Samantha LaFantasie,J.E. Taylor,Katie Salidas,L.G. Castillo,Lisa Swallow,Rachel McClellan,Kate Corcino,A.J. Colby,Catherine Stine,Angel Lawson,Lucy Leroux

Working late. Sent a replacement.

“Sneaky,” she muttered, slipping the phone into her back pocket. She approached the table with a semi-faux smile on her face. Nick stood when she came to the table and gave her a genuine grin and a kiss on the cheek in return. While hanging up her coat, she raised an eyebrow at the move but said nothing, sliding into the booth seat across from him.

“Thanks for meeting me since Oliver stood me up,” she said. Ari un-wedged a menu shoved between the napkin holder and the wall.

“He doesn’t like to disappoint you,” Nick said. She noticed his jacket and tie were off and he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He’d obviously come straight from work, too. “Plus, he and I both agree you work too hard.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “You both work as much as or more than I do. He’s just hoping that a little flattery will trick me into bringing a cheeseburger back home for him.”

“My only roommate is a 75 pound chocolate lab. If I brought him home a burger, he would maul me at the front door for it,” Nick laughed.

“And how is that different from Oliver?”

They ordered drinks and Nick went on to talk about his last roommate, a guy who took baths daily with his girlfriend and read Dr. Seuss aloud.

“They read this in the bathtub? Together?” Ari asked, almost spitting out her beer.

“Daily,” he confirmed, fake shuddering at the thought.

“You deserve an award for that. I do have to live with the constant string of women in Oliver’s life, including the occasional nut-job, long-term girlfriend.”

“Are they always that bad?”

“Always,” Ari replied. “He has the worst taste in women. There was the one who liked to fight before having sex. I’d come home to broken china and a trail of clothing through the house. Which for him was great. For me? There’s nothing more awkward than finding someone’s panties hanging from the lampshade.”

“How did you end up living together in the first place?”

“Oliver and I have lived together since college. Our roommates dated and moved out together. At the time, it was the easiest and only option. Luckily it worked.” Ari realized they were slipping into first-date territory. Drinks and dinner, sharing background and personal stories. She wasn’t sure if this was a first date or not, but it sure seemed like it.

Ari didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Tell me what you know about the Glory Youth Center,” she said, diverting attention off her personal life and back to work. She was happy to pretend for the moment that Mr. Davis was only work-related. Nothing personal.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

“I went today. Judge Hatcher placed one of my clients there. It’s pretty nice, but it’s like … some kind of referral-only place. We’ve never had another client placed there as far as I can tell,” Ari explained. “I have no idea how Curtis landed on the list.”

Nick rubbed his chin and Ari could see the five o’clock shadow growing in. He had one of those faces that grew more attractive with a little scruff. “I guess the judges may have some pull in that area. Juvenile judges are appointed, which means they have a lot of political connections and attend fundraisers and other events. Maybe that’s how she found it.”

“Maybe so. Seems like they have a really high success rate. Mr. Davis was more together than any other program director I’ve met.”

“Davis? I’ve met him before. Tall and kind of bald, right?”

Handsome, amazing kisser and apparently my dirty little secret, Ari wanted to add. She felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, that’s him.”

Nick tipped his beer and finished it off. “Yeah, I’ve met him. Kind of aloof. Seems like he plays by his own rules.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily, but you and I both know societal rules are there for a reason.”

“True,” Ari said. The waitress walked up and laid two checks on the table. Ari reached for hers but Nick swiped both before she reacted.

“Dinner’s on me.” He tucked a card in the black padded envelope and handed it back to the waitress as she passed by.

Ari scrunched her nose. “You sure?”

“You did me a favor. I was going to sit at home all night reading case files. This is so much better.”

“Better than me sitting home watching the late-night news to see if any of my clients got arrested,” she said, shaking her head.

The waitress returned and they gathered their coats and squeezed through the tight restaurant to the front door. Ari walked toward her car and Nick followed. Like that, everything went from casual to date-night awkward.

“Oh, by the way,” Nick said, as Ari pulled her keys from her bag, “I did a little digging on Hope’s situation.”

“Really? What did you find out?”

“I talked to a couple of the officers at the courthouse and pulled some records. I thought the details sounded familiar when you told me. Girl kidnapped for prostitution. There have been a couple of girls arrested on Stewart Street with this same story. My gut tells me this is some kind of urban legend they have created in an effort to stay out of jail.”

“That’s kind of how I felt. What did the police say?” Ari leaned against the car.

“Same thing. There’s no evidence of kidnapping or anyone being held against their will. The girls all have a history of prostitution and refuse to give any real information. The police tend to think it’s a cover story, too.”

“I wish that made me feel better,” she said. “Thanks for dinner. I owe you one.”

Nick smiled. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. “Goodnight, Ari.”

Ari grinned and said, “Goodnight.”

Chapter 5

“How was your date last night?” Oliver asked as they ran up the hill.

“I didn’t have a date, but since we’re asking, how was yours?”

“Me? I had to work late.”

Ari shook her head. “On a Friday night? Plus, you didn’t get in ’til past two.”

“I don’t know if you want to play the ‘What time did you get home?’ game right now.”

Huh, so he knew how late she’d come in the other night. Ari played dumb, because what was she going to tell him? Lie and say that she stayed at the gym for four hours? The truth, that she made out with some guy she never met against a dirty club wall until the bouncer kicked them out? Oh and by the way, he happened to be the director of the program her client just moved into.

She opted to deflect. “Don’t tell me, you hooked up with Veronica from accounting. Again.”

“She’s really hot.”

“I’ve heard.”

He held up his hands and said, “She and I are like two magnets. The kind that snap together with incredible force. We’re drawn to one another. Typically over a desk or under a desk or somewhere near a desk. We’re on the clock, you know.”

“You’re going to get fired.” They reached the top of the hill and began an easier coast for the last mile. Their goal was in sight. A sweet, delicious, run-worthy goal.

“Possibly, if everyone else in the office wasn’t doing something similar or worse.” He gave Ari a wolfish grin.

“I don’t even want to know.”

“You really don’t.”

At the end of four miles, the roommates raced to their reward. Sticky and delicious doughnuts from a shop near their home. Once purchased, they exited the shop and walked back to the house. Weekend runs started as a way to fight off the extra weight and stress being part of the workforce inevitably caused. Plus, it gave them an excuse to get doughnuts afterwards.

“Try this,” Ari said, breaking off a piece of her Nutella cream puff.

Oliver took the doughnut out of her hand and popped it in his mouth. “Ohgodthat’sawesome,” he mumbled.

They reached their street and Ari noticed something weird in the driveway. “Why is my car leaning like that?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said. He jogged ahead. “Oh shit.”

“What?” she ran up to him but stopped hard when she saw her car up close. “Motherfudger!”

Two of her tires had been slashed and the entire left panel of her car had key scrapes down the side. Ari’s car wasn’t especially nice. Honestly, it was a piece of junk, but she owned it outright and she tried to take care of it. A wave of anger washed over her. “Asshats,” she said, breaking her own non-cursing rule.“They did this while we were running? In broad daylight?”

“Pretty nervy,” Oliver said, looking up and down the street. It was early enough on a Saturday morning that no one else was out. “Probably only took them a couple of minutes.”

“This sucks,” Ari said, leaning against the lopsided car.

“Let me go call the police.”

Since it was a non-emergency, it took the officer almost an hour to get there. She’d sent Oliver inside for a shower since she was able to deal with this herself. As soon as the officer got out of the car Ari recognized him from the armed robbery at the hardware store.

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Officer Baker said. He kneeled by her car, surveying the damage. “Any idea who did this?”

“Not specifically,” Ari snorted. “But I could probably make a short list.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have a lot of enemies or something?”

“I’m a juvenile probation officer. I have a caseload of 60 kids. I could narrow it down to about 15 that hate me at the moment.”

Officer Baker whistled. “Yeah, that could be a problem. Or it could be random. Did they take anything?”

“Nope. Just messed up the car.”

“So, yeah, probably retaliation of some kind. Who’s at the top of your list?”

Ari thought about it. She had two boys on runaway status right now—both with outstanding warrants Ari issued when they’d failed to make curfew. Then there was Hope, but she was in lockup. There wasn’t much she could do from inside. She thought back to Jace Watkins and the armed robbery, but Ari still thought he hadn’t recognized her. If so, he would’ve probably done a lot more than slit her tires.

“I’ll write the names down,” she said, taking the pad from Officer Baker. She wrote down three or four, adding Jace’s name at the bottom.

“That’s the kid from the robbery last week,” Baker said, looking over the names. “The one that got away. You didn’t tell me he was a client of yours.”

“He’s not. He aged out a while back but I recognized him from our program. If he saw me that day, he may think he needs to scare me.”

Officer Baker frowned and fished out a business card. “I’ll look into this and send you the report for insurance. Be careful and call me directly if anything else happens.” He looked over at her house. “You have a roommate? A dog?”

“Roommate—no dog. But it’s a guy, if that helps.”

“It may. I see your security sticker. Make sure you turn your system on, okay?”

“I try to remember,” Ari said, knowing that she wasn’t always vigilant about it. Officer Baker got in his car and drove off while Ari stared at the mess her car had become. The scratches were ugly, but the two flat tires made it un-drivable. She walked back into the house to call a tow truck.

***

Since Oliver worked all day in his office—and could hitch a ride home with Veronica—Ari dropped him off downtown on her way to Curtis’ house while her car was at the shop. Mr. Davis had given her a list of items Curtis would need while in the program, and she thought she’d try his house. Luckily, the program had some basic supplies he could borrow until she got back with his personal items.

Ms. Wilson lived in a housing project near the stadium. The century-old houses lining her street sat in varied states of neglect. Curtis’ mother’s home was no exception, although there seemed to be some attempt at keeping the yard and porch clean. Ari parked Oliver’s SUV on the street and locked the doors. She’d come early on purpose, the time of day when drug dealers and car thieves slept. Even though there was a false sense of peacefulness about the neighborhood, the numbness that Ari struggled with returned slowly. She frowned in disgust over the plastic drug baggies that littered the streets. Smashed beer bottles. All signals that every effort she made for these kids had been futile.

No one answered Ari’s knock, so she tried twice more, even pulling on the screen door to see if it was also locked. Curtis had no phone number listed in his file. Tucking her card into the wire mesh door, Ari stepped off the porch. Halfway down the walk, she heard the locks slide and the door slowly open. Curtis’ mother stood inside, obscured by the dark screen door. Ari had expected his grandmother who was listed in his file as his primary caregiver.

“Ms. Wilson?”

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Ari Grant. I’m Curtis’ caseworker. We’ve met before. Is Curtis’ grandmother here?”

“Curtis. When’s he coming home?” she asked. Her voice sounded like gravel, thick and deep.

Ari noted that Ms. Wilson didn’t invite her in. She took a deep breath and explained, “During his hearing, Judge Hatcher recommended a residential placement.”

“How can she do that without my permission?”

“Ms. Wilson, the court sent a notice to Curtis’ grandmother in the mail about his hearing date.”

“We didn’t get no notice.”

“Well, he had one. The good news, though, is that his placement is in town and it’s at a really good program. I think he has a chance of graduating from it successfully.”

She squinted her eyes at Ari and Ari wondered if she was on drugs or hungover.

“What kind of program is this?” Ms. Wilson asked.

“He’ll live there and go to a local school. They have counseling services and a strong focus on athletics.”

“Sports?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He’s always been good at sports. Probably get a basketball scholarship. Everyone says so.”

Ari had no idea who “everyone” was. She simply said, “Good. Then this may be the best place for him.”

Ms. Wilson stared at Ari with suspicious eyes. “What do you need from me?”

“I came by to see if Curtis has any clothes or personal items I can take to him. Is there anything here?”

Ms. Wilson finally slid the latch on the other side of the door. “You can check his room.”

She followed the woman through the cluttered house. Past cheap furniture and a blaring television. A hole in the wall and the spider-webbed lines of the cracked ceiling revealed how desperately the house needed repair. From reading Curtis’ file, Ari knew his mother didn’t work and that she lived off government assistance. His father had been in jail since Curtis was a toddler, up until his death just before Curtis’ 10th birthday. The odds stacked against Curtis Wilson finding success in this world seemed insurmountable.

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