Killer Ambition - страница 2

“My dad sent me,” Hayley joked, with an intimate look that brought him in on it.

Chuckling, the bouncer lifted the rope, then reached back and opened the door, unleashing a blast of music. “Have a nice night, ladies,” he said.

Hayley grabbed Mackenzie’s hand and led the way through a wall of dancers whose bodies glowed under pulsing multicolored lights, their only guide through the near-impenetrable velvet darkness. A hand shot up and waved to them from a crowded horseshoe booth next to the DJ-the sweetest spot in the house. They inched their way over and squeezed in, Mackenzie practically sitting in Hayley’s lap. The walls seemed to vibrate with the thunderous bass, making conversation impossible. But it didn’t matter. They weren’t there to talk and they wouldn’t need to place orders: hors d’oeuvres were served continuously, and they always had bottle service. Tonight’s offering was Patrón Silver, and she and Hayley had doubles in their hands by the time they sat down. A cute curly-haired guy-was his name Adrian?-moved forward with a sexy smile and pulled Mackenzie out onto the dance floor. She didn’t sit down again till unknown hours later when she and Hayley collapsed into the back of the Escalade.

Now

Could that really have been just three nights ago? From her perch high on a hill in Laurel Canyon, Mackenzie barely noticed the spread of twinkling lights, the crawl of traffic across Sunset Boulevard and up La Cienega. She glanced to the west, where, just a few miles away in the Hollywood Hills above Sunset Plaza, Hayley’s dad had his “party house.” It was a favorite hang of theirs when her dad wasn’t around. They loved to skinny-dip in the infinity pool that stretched from the edge of the hilltop and flowed under a heavy plate-glass wall, right into the living room.

Laughing, partying, playing, sharing. The past year had been the best of Mackenzie’s life, and she owed it all to Hayley. Tears sprang to her eyes, turning the red and white lights on the streets below into long, blurry streaks. She pulled the photo, normally enshrined on the mirror in her bedroom, out of the back pocket of her jeans. It was a picture of her and Hayley at Colony, loose, boozy smiles, arms looped around each other’s shoulders. Her first night out with Hayley. And her first step out of the purgatory of “new girl” and, even worse, “poor girl” at the Clarington Academy prep school, aka high school for rich kids. Mackenzie got in on an academic scholarship, but she was a charity case and everyone seemed to know it. For the first few months she’d slunk through the hallways, a lonely, miserable misfit. Until one day, in gym class, she and Hayley had discovered a mutual hatred of field hockey. That’s all it took. Her life, her whole world changed overnight. How could that have been just a little over a year ago?

Mackenzie clutched the sides of her head and tried to breathe. Hayley had said not to worry. That it would be okay. That she’d call and she’d explain everything. But for now, don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell.

But that was three days ago. Three days, with no word from Hayley. Was she supposed to wait this long? What if something had gone wrong? Should she call someone? But maybe nothing was wrong and her call would just screw everything up. It’d be all her fault and Hayley might never forgive her. What was she supposed to do? Mackenzie dropped her head, hugged her knees, and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. It would be okay. Hayley would be okay. Hayley was always okay. She had to be.

“I’m guessing by your expression that dinner went pretty well after all,” Bailey said. Her expression had an obnoxious “told-you-so” tinge to it that made me want to lie. But I knew there was no point. Bailey was not only a top-notch detective in the elite Robbery-Homicide Division of LAPD, she was also one of my very best friends. She would see right through it. Still, I didn’t have to give it up all at once.

I gave a noncommittal shrug, hung my purse on the hook under the bar, and slid onto the cushy leather stool. “It went okay.”