Regardless, he’d had so many chances to own up to his relationship with them—I’d questioned him directly, more than once. The fact that he was still hiding it gave me an inky feeling in my gut. Even if I could prove that Bill Hollis killed Mom and acted alone while doing so, would that erase the feeling of betrayal I had every time I thought of my dad now? Would it reverse my lack of trust in him?

I honestly didn’t know.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it now, anyway. Shelby and Luna were partying and the clock was ticking.

I didn’t exactly have a ritzy wardrobe to choose from, but I did have some things that would do. I crammed myself back into that awful pink bikini and covered up with a wrap that my grandparents had brought me back from their trip to Bali a few years ago. It was yellow and black and scarf-like, covered with giant orange and purple and red butterflies. It was silky and beautiful and in no way had I ever planned to wear it. I’d shoved it in the back of my closet and forgotten about it.

But now, it was just what I needed. It took me a few minutes—and an online video—to figure out how to tie it, but by the time I was done draping and twisting and knotting, it actually looked a little elegant. It was sheer and light, and it definitely clung to my form, and you could see the ghost of a bikini beneath. I scraped through my jewelry drawer until I found some gaudy shit I’d collected over the years as Christmas gifts, and draped it over myself. I didn’t have any rhinestones or glinty, strappy shoes, so I settled for a pair of leather flip-flops and rushed to the bathroom, where I wound and sprayed finger waves into my hair and painted bright red lips on myself—a leftover from my surveillance trip inside a recording studio a while back. I doubled down on mascara and blush and spritzed a cloud of coconut-scented body spray onto myself.

When I stepped back to study the mirror, I barely recognized the girl in my reflection. I looked . . . like everyone else. It was disgusting.

And also perfect.

TRAFFIC HAD LIGHTENED up as evening drew down, and I got back to the hotel in record time. There were a lot more cars in the parking lot, and I had to drive around a while before I found a spot.

I wished I’d seen which car the blonde had gotten out of, but I’d been too busy watching Shelby and getting impatient. That was the price I paid for not paying attention. Eye on the prize, Nikki. And Shelby was only one prize. The small prize. She was the goldfish in a plastic bag when there was a giant teddy bear to be won.