Just One More

Okay, well maybe if the parents were around more there would be less drug use. But it wasn’t my place to say. “Sarge,” I drawled gamely, “what do we know so far?”

“Unfortunately not a lot at this point,” he replied. “Victim one was Brian Adams, on the football team, seventeen, early admission to Harvard. Comes from a so-called nice family except his parents are never around, always raising money for some charity or other,” the Sarge snorted. “Victim two was Tyler Needham, also on the football team, recruited to play football at Cal although he obviously won’t be there this fall.”

I digested this information. “So do Bryan and I need to try out for the football team to get the down low on these suckers?” I asked. My brother and I were athletic and agile, plus we’d played football before. Street ball for sure, but it was enough for some high school rinky-dink sports program.

“Nah, the season’s over, but you’ve got to get in with the right crew of kids. This isn’t the stoner crowd, Brian and Tyler were athletes, kids with good grades from nice families. Somehow they got their hands on cocaine and heroin, not just the usual soft stuff. Hey, if they’ve got the money to pay for it, there’s not much stopping them,” said the sergeant dryly.

And I could see his point. Bryan, the Sarge and I are working class, our parents are schoolteachers, firefighters, people who are comfortable but hardly living the high life. It was only too ironic that kids who’d been given everything on a silver plate were shooting themselves in the foot … or in the arm in this case.

So my twin and I had packed up our stuff, moving into a trailer on the edges of St. Francis Wood. I guess SFPD could have found a “foster family” for us or other some bullshit, but it was just easier to paint a story as two twin boys who’d moved to town because of a troubled past. Our “uncle” would be the Sergeant, although he didn’t live with us.

And now our first lead had appeared … and Callie had given it to us inadvertently. The party promised to be fruitful, a bunch of rich kids on a Friday night, loosening up, letting it all hang out. As we prepped, Bryan and I talked it over.

“I’ll take Callie, you take Chrissy, see where it leads us,” I’d suggested nonchalantly.

No such luck. “Yeah, whatever,” grinned my twin. “No way I’m passing up the brunette.”

And it was to be expected — both of us had liked the curvy girl on sight. Okay, more than liked, more like very, very intrigued. Callie was exactly up our alley with curly brown hair, big brown eyes and a figure shaped like a sensuous S. Big boobs, a tiny waist and luscious, swinging hips. I’d never developed a taste for skinny anorexics, and neither had my brother.

“Fine,” I said gamely. “We’ll play it by ear, see what develops. No sense in tying ourselves to some rigid plan.”

“You got it, brother,” drawled Bryan. He’s always been easygoing, it’s part of his charm, girls love that laid-back vibe and handsome mug. But I knew that as soon as we saw Callie, we’d both be on her like white on rice … agreement or not.

4

Callie

The music was pounding, people standing by the pool with drinks in their hands.

“Where you’d get the beer?” I asked Chrissy.

“Oh my sister, she picked up some stuff at the local bodega,” she replied distractedly, looking around. Of course the local bodega in St. Francis Wood was a high-end liquor shop, but Chrissy’s family could afford it.

“Is Valerie actually here?” I asked curiously, also peering into the mass of writhing bodies. Chrissy’s older sister was notorious – rumor had it she’d gotten pregnant by some older guy a couple years back, causing her to drop out of high school. But St. Francis Wood was full of rumors … and I’d never had a glimpse of the so-called baby although I’d visited the Gordons many times.

But my friend had other things on her mind. “You did invite them, didn’t you?” she asked, frowning. “Did you remind them?”

I sighed. The them in the sentence was all too obvious. “Of course I did, Blake texted me for the address to your place just this morning,” I confirmed.

“Oooh, you got his number?” she squealed. “Cool, give it to me, I want to make sure they’re coming.”

“Umm, let’s just wait a bit, okay?” I hedged. I didn’t want to seem too desperate, nor did I want to be giving out phone numbers like candy. “Let’s hang tight and see if they show in the next fifteen.”

“God I hope so,” said Chrissy, blowing air impatiently. “I got my hair and make-up professionally done, those twins better appreciate it!” she said emphatically.