Justice for All (The Outcast Book #1) Read online

  “Yes, Sister,” we say. We start to giggle after Sister Matilda has left.

  “That warning was mostly for you,” Melanie says.

  “I’m sure.” We carry our bags into the terminal, which isn’t much bigger than our dorm room. We have a few minutes until the bus shows up, so I go use the payphone to call Colin. I heave a sigh of relief when he picks up. My voice sounds unnaturally perky as I squeak, “Hi, it’s me!”

  “Hey, babe. How’d you get away from the nuns?”

  “I’m at the bus station.”

  “You’re running away?”

  “No, silly. Melanie and I are going to Boston. My sister is going to meet us there.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. How long you going to be there?”

  “Until Monday. I wish you could come with us.” My face turns warm at the double entendre, but I don’t think he notices.

  “I wish I could too. My dad is going to let me borrow the truck so I can go to your next meet. I’ll have to sneak out of last hour to make it, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Awesome. Now I have to make sure to win.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “Thanks.” A voice comes over the PA to announce our bus is here. I sigh and then say, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I get there. Try not to have your phone off or anything.”

  “I’ll keep it on. And charged.”

  “Awesome. Well, um, bye.” I hang up the phone, wishing I could have said more. I hurry over to the bench to grab my suitcase.

  Like on the track bus we sit near the middle. I let Melanie sit by the window while I sit by the aisle. The scenery mostly looks the same, a lot of hills and trees that are only starting to turn green. “Have you ever been to Boston?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “Nope. I guess it’ll be new to both of us.”

  “Yeah, totally. So what did Colin say?” I tell her about our conversation and she sighs. “I wish I could find a guy like that. The only boyfriends I ever had were jerks.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a guy. Maybe you’ll meet someone cute in Boston.”

  “That’d be even worse than you and Colin. I mean, I’d never get to see him.”

  “That would make it more fun when you can see him, right?”

  We share a laugh and then Melanie smiles. “That’s true.” A little more boring scenery rolls past the window. Melanie turns to me to ask, “Are you sure your sister and aunt won’t mind me tagging along?”

  “No. Why should they?”

  “It’s just that they haven’t seen you in a couple of months, you know? They might not want a third wheel.”

  “It’ll be fine. You’re my friend. That makes you practically family.”

  “Uh-huh. And, um, do they know about, you know…how we met?”

  “No. Don’t mention it to my aunt either. She’s a cop.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She used to be my dad’s partner. When my mom died she helped out a lot, you know? That’s why I call her my aunt.”

  “That’s awesome. I wish I had an aunt like that. Mine just knit ugly sweaters to send me at Christmas.”

  We share another laugh. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. The roar of the bus engine is enough white noise to lull me to sleep.

  ***

  When I wake up, we’re pulling into the bus station in Boston. Melanie has to get our bags from the overhead bin since I’m too short to reach them. “This is the real reason you brought me,” she teases. “You just wanted a valet.”

  In my best rich girl accent I say, “None of that lip or you’ll get a thrashing.”

  She shoves my suitcase at me; I manage to deflect it and then twist it from her grip. “I wish I could be that limber,” she says.

  “I wish I could be taller.”

  “Too bad we can’t switch brains.”

  I giggle at the thought of living as Melanie. That would solve some of my problems, but then I’d lose Colin. Melanie would have him, but she’d have to worry about Madame Crimson—and her daughter.

  I’m not surprised to find Jessica and Carol waiting for us right inside the terminal; they’ve probably been here for hours. Jessica crushes me in a hug; she lifts me off the floor even with the suitcase in my hand. “You’re looking good,” she says. “Getting some sun?”

  “It’s from running,” I say, my face turning warm with embarrassment. “I got second place in my first meet.”

  “That’s awesome. My sister the track star.”

  “I doubt that. It’s just cross-country.”

  Melanie clears her throat. I take her arm to introduce her. “This is my best friend Melanie Holloway. She’s on the cross-country team too.”

  “I got second-to-last in our first meet,” she says with a shy smile. She shakes hands with Jessica and then flinches under Carol’s deadly stare. Carol is sizing her up the way she always did with the friends I brought home from elementary school.

  “I’m Carol Finnegan,” she says, extending her hand. Melanie takes it as if it might explode. “You must be Rose’s roommate.”

  “That’s me!” Melanie says and then giggles like an idiot.

  There’s an awkward silence that Jessica breaks by saying, “Come on, let’s go out to the car. You need any help with that?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “I’m not an invalid.”

  “I know that.”

  The Boston air isn’t nearly so clean as in New Hampshire, but it’s not as oppressive as Redoubt City. The skyline looks better too, not as gloomy as in Redoubt City with all its old, rundown skyscrapers. The traffic is nearly as bad when we set out in Jessica’s rental car. It takes us almost two hours to get to our motel.

  I’m glad for a chance to drop off my suitcase and then crash on the double bed. Like at St. Martha’s Melanie and I get to share a room while Carol and Jessica have an adjoining room. Though I slept on the bus, the bed is comfortable enough that I don’t want to get up right away.

  “Did you bring a bathing suit?” Melanie asks.

  “No.”

  “Me either. We should buy a couple. It’d be awesome to take a dip in the pool.” Melanie sighs as she flips through the channels on the TV. “I wish St. Martha’s had a pool. I’m a lot faster in the water than on land. Back home they used to call me Flipper.”

  I laugh at that. “I’ll try not to spread that around.”

  “Laugh all you want, but if they had a swim team I would be totally awesome at it.”

  “I’m sure we can get you a suit later so you can prove it.” I turn onto my side to face Melanie. “I’m glad you came along. I kind of need a buffer between me and my sister.”

  “She doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “Yeah, right now, but give us a couple of days and it’ll be like one of those Real Housewives shows, you know?”

  “I can’t imagine anyone having trouble getting along with you.” I grab a pillow and hurl it at her to wipe the grin from her face. “If I hadn’t seen you kick all those guys’s asses, I’d totally whale on you with this pillow.”

  “Bring it.”

  She takes my pillow to add it to the pile on her bed. “I prefer a sneak attack. You just wait.”

  “I’m soooo scared.” I stick my tongue out at her. She does the same to me. Then we start laughing like idiots.

  ***

  For our first night in Boston, Jessica takes us to a seafood restaurant for lobsters and clam chowder. This is the tacky kind of place with fake nets, life preservers, starfish, and junk like that on the walls. There are a lot of screaming kids that will probably give me a headache before our entrees arrive.

  “So how has school been going?” Jessica asks after we place our drink orders.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “They let me out of the doghouse a couple of weeks ago.”

  “That’s nice of them.”

  “Yeah, real nice.” I look over at Melanie, but neither of us says anything about what happened with the conv
icts. I don’t want to worry Jessica or Carol about that, not when the criminals are back in prison and Melanie and I are fine. “I think they just wanted to get me on the track team.”

  “I never thought of you as an athlete before,” Jessica says. She looks over at Melanie. “She never even tried out for sports at her old school. The last thing she did that was even close was ballet.”

  “You were in ballet?” Melanie asks.

  “Yeah, when I was six.”

  “Oh my God, I bet you were so precious in your little tutu.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I have a video of her back home. She’s so adorable,” Jessica says. “I should get that burned onto a DVD and mail you a copy.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Jessica looks over at Melanie again. “She was in Girl Scouts too. Did she mention that? I used to take her door-to-door to sell cookies. I bet she’d still fit in the uniform.”

  “Why don’t you take out some baby pictures while you’re at it?” I growl.

  “Oh, don’t get sore. I’m just telling Melanie how sweet you used to be.”

  “Yeah, used to be.”

  “Come on, Jessie, don’t embarrass your sister in front of her new friend,” Carol says.

  “All right. I’m just saying Rose used to be a real sweetheart. I don’t know what happened.”

  I glare at Jessica; she knows damned well what happened: Daddy got blown up by Madame Crimson. I’m glad the waiter shows up with our drinks before I can say something I might regret. I take a sip of my Sprite and then say, “Where are you planning to drag us to tomorrow? Some museum, right?”

  “There are lots of important historical places here,” Jessica says. “Wouldn’t hurt you to learn a little about American history.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Just what two sixteen-year-olds want to do, go visit a bunch of moldy historical sites from the 18th Century. “You think we can stop somewhere to buy a bathing suit? Melanie forgot hers.”

  “So did you.”

  “I’m not the one who wants to go swimming, Flipper.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me again and then takes a sip of her Diet Coke. We place our orders for lobsters and chowder and then silence descends over the table again. Carol’s pager goes off; she still has one of those in case her phone is turned off or being charged. She checks it and then shakes her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jessica shakes her head once Carol has gone. “She’ll probably have to go back tonight. They’ve been crazy busy back home. You two probably don’t watch the news, but there’s a lot of bad stuff going on. Bodies turning up in the harbor—”

  Seeing how Melanie’s face has gone slack and her eyes glassy, I clear my throat to stop Jessica. The last thing Melanie needs to think about right now are bodies floating in the harbor. “Sorry,” Jessica says. “There’s some new character in town. Pushkin or something like that. He’s trying to put Madame Crimson out of business.”

  “Good.”

  “Not for everyone in the crossfire—like Carol.”

  It’s my turn to apologize now. Carol returns to the table, her face grim. “I’m sorry, Jess, Rose, but I’ve got to take off. They need me back.”

  “It’s all right,” I say. I get up to hug her. “It was nice seeing you again.”

  “You too, kid.” She squeezes me tight and then brushes hair back from my face like I’m a little kid. “Stay out of trouble, OK?”

  “OK. You too.”

  “I will.” She lets me go to give Jessica a hug. She shakes Melanie’s hand too. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  “Keep Rose out of trouble.”

  “I will.”

  Carol nods and then hurries away to go call a cab. A police officer’s work is never done; I learned that from living with Daddy for fifteen years. With her absence, a pall falls over the table. I pick at my lobster and clam chowder without much interest, as do Melanie and Jessica.

  Once we finish as much as we can, we go back to the motel to turn in early. It has been a long day.

  Chapter 23

  I’ve never been much of a girl about shopping. Before Daddy died I went to the mall sometimes with my friends, though usually more to hang out than to buy stuff. After that I did most of my shopping at second-hand or specialty stores.

  It’s kind of weird then to go clothes shopping with Melanie. She’s like a little kid in a toy store, running from rack to rack, picking things up to put against her body. “Don’t you think this would look so cute on me?” she asks about one thing after another.

  “Yeah, totally,” I say. She checks the price tag and then puts it back.

  “It sucks being poor. I mean, if I had money like Tonya I’d pretty much live here.”

  “Too bad for the American economy.”

  She swats at me with a yellow summer dress. I think of the dress I saw in Mrs. Maxwell’s window, the one that wouldn’t fit me. “They probably don’t have anything here my size.”

  “Oh come on, they have a kid’s department.”

  I shoot her a glare. “Whatever. Can we find a couple of bathing suits already?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to be such a downer.”

  “Sorry.”

  As we walk along an aisle, Melanie stops and then squeals. “Oh my gosh, look at this!”

  She runs her fingers along the sleeve of a black leather jacket. “This would be perfect.”

  “For what?”

  “For you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “For…you know.”

  “What?”

  She leans close to whisper, “The Outcast.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I mean it couldn’t stop a bullet, but this stuff is nice and thick. Someone tries to stab you it probably wouldn’t even get through the skin.”

  “There’s an easier way to keep from getting stabbed: don’t go out at night.”

  “You’re such a party-pooper.”

  I shake my head. “How can you still think that’s a good idea after what happened?”

  “It wouldn’t be a good idea for me. But you could totally do it. You’ve got the skills.”

  “Melanie, please—”

  “Just try it on.”

  I roll my eyes. “They probably don’t have it in my size.”

  “Let’s ask.” Melanie’s head bobs around like a pigeon’s at feeding time. “There we go. Miss! Miss! Can you help my friend?”

  A salesgirl who’s like a slightly older version of Tonya saunters over. “Can I help you?”

  “Do you have this jacket in petite sizes? For my friend?” Melanie gestures to me. The salesgirl looks me over and then sneers.

  “I’ll check in the back.”

  She takes her sweet time going to the back, leaving me and Melanie there to wait. I tap my foot impatiently while Melanie examines the sales racks nearby. She finds two-dozen more things that would look pretty on her before the salesgirl comes back with a white box under her arm.

  “I think this would be your size,” she says. She thrusts the box at me. I open the lid to see a black leather jacket like the one Melanie saw. I take it into a fitting room to slip it on. The salesgirl has a good eye for sizes; the jacket fits me perfectly. I zip it up and do a little turn in the mirror. It does look pretty badass. It’d look better if I got my hair cut short and dyed it black again. I rap the outside of the jacket; it does feel pretty tough, though I don’t want to test if it can stop a knife or not.

  A price tag dangles from the left sleeve. It’s three hundred dollars, much more than I can afford. A lot more than Jessica would pay either. I sigh and then take the jacket off. I hand the box back to the salesgirl. “I don’t think this is really me.”

  She smiles and nods with understanding, though her eyes are narrowed with fury. Now she has to return it to the back room. “That’s all right. If you see anything you do like, let me know. My name is Nora.”

&
nbsp; “Thanks, Nora,” I mumble.

  “What’s wrong?” Melanie asks after Nora has left.

  “It’s three hundred dollars. I can’t afford that.”

  “You could ask your sister—”

  “She doesn’t have that kind of money. She can hardly afford the motel room and rental car.”

  “All right, all right. You’re way too practical for a kid,” Melanie grumbles.

  Jessica finds us as we’re looking over the bathing suits. “Aren’t you two done yet? The next bus for Boston Common leaves in ten minutes.”

  I grab a turquoise bikini in my size while Melanie snatches a green one-piece. “What’s the matter, you feeling fat?” I tease her.

  “It’s more aerodynamic in the water.”

  “The motel pool is only five feet deep.”

  “That’s all I need.”

  I roll my eyes again. Jessica pays for the bathing suits. We barely make it to the bus stop and get on before the bus can leave. There isn’t room to sit, so we have to stand, which is easier for Melanie and Jessica, who can reach the overhead rails; I have to cling to a pole near the front like a terrified stripper.

  The bus isn’t much faster than the rental car in the morning traffic. I stand for probably forty-five minutes before we can finally get off at Boston Common. It’d be a pretty decent place for a cross-country meet, so long as you clear out the people lounging around or playing Frisbee and stuff like that. I catch a Frisbee that sailed wide of its target. A boy comes jogging up to us. With his light brown hair and glasses he could pass as my older brother.

  “Nice catch,” he says.

  “Beginner’s luck.” I hand the Frisbee back to him.

  “My name’s Taylor.”

  “Rose. This is my sister Jessica. And my friend Melanie.”

  “H-h-hi,” Melanie practically whispers, her face turning bright red.

  “You girls want to play?” Taylor asks. He gestures to a couple of lanky, geeky guys hanging out by a bench.

  “We can’t,” Jessica says. “We’re on a tight schedule—”

  “Can’t we play a little while?” Melanie whines. “It’s such a nice day. Why waste it in some smelly old museum?”

  Jessica turns to me and I shrug. She sighs and then says, “I guess a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.”