Read Creeping with the Enemy Online
Authors: Kimberly Reid
Creeping with the Enemy (2 page)
Chapter 2
W
hen I walk into the house, Lana is peering through the miniblinds, dressed like she's going to the club. That means she's playing either a hooker or a drug dealer tonight. She works in the Vice Division, which investigates crimes related to prostitution, narcotics, and gambling and involves a lot of undercover work, so she almost never looks like a normal mother when she goes to work. Since people around here think she's a paralegal, Lana always wears a coat over her undercover clothes, even in the summer, which must make our neighbors think she's weird. Better than having them think she's a cop.
hen I walk into the house, Lana is peering through the miniblinds, dressed like she's going to the club. That means she's playing either a hooker or a drug dealer tonight. She works in the Vice Division, which investigates crimes related to prostitution, narcotics, and gambling and involves a lot of undercover work, so she almost never looks like a normal mother when she goes to work. Since people around here think she's a paralegal, Lana always wears a coat over her undercover clothes, even in the summer, which must make our neighbors think she's weird. Better than having them think she's a cop.
“Who was that driving a seven series BMW?” Lana is suspicious because the people on Aurora Avenue driving that kind of car are usually the people she's trying to arrest.
“A girl from school gave me a ride home.”
I'm trying my best to stay cool because Lana has a special gift for reading people, especially liars, which is what makes her such a good cop. You mix that skill with the fact she knows me better than anyone and I'm basically an open book to her. Lucky for me, I'm an exceptional liar when I need to be, and sometimes I can even fool Lana.
“Her parents are brave letting a kid borrow a car nice as that.”
“That's
her
car.”
her
car.”
“Get outta here. A girl your age is driving a car that must cost as much as two of mine?”
“More like four of yoursâwhen the guy you bought it from bought it
new
. That's the kind of school you forced on meâa place where kids drive cars that cost more than my mother makes in a year.”
new
. That's the kind of school you forced on meâa place where kids drive cars that cost more than my mother makes in a year.”
I've been at Langdon nearly two months and still haven't gotten used to needing ten minutes to get from one class to another because the ivy-covered campus is bigger than two city blocks and my classes are in three different buildings. After my old high school, it's taking more than a minute to get used to kids rolling up in Lexus SUVs instead of getting off the city bus (that would be me) and walking half a mile before even reaching Langdon Prep's quarter-mile-long driveway. I'm used to people making weekend plans that include going to the movies or hanging at the mall. At Langdon, people talk about skiing in Aspen or flying to their winter home in the Virgin Islands. Lana and I have to make do with the same house all four seasons, and before Lana made detective and we lived on a beat cop's salary, there were some first-of-the-months we weren't sure we'd have even that. Yeah, I pretty much hate Langdon Prep.
“Hey, I gave you the chance to leave the school,” Lana says, still looking out the window though Bethanie must have pulled away by now. “You wanted to stay.”
She's right. I guess I can't keep playing the martyr thing. I stayed because of a boy. I know, totally clichéâbut you haven't seen the boy. Marco is yum, and completely worth all the other stuff I hate about that school.
Lana finally turns away from the window and says, “Well, I'd rather see you roll up with an overindulged Langdon student than that ex-con down the street.”
“I thought you were going to give MJ a break since she helped you solve a case. Oh yeah, and saved my
life
.”
life
.”
“I'm grateful to her for all the above, but I'd prefer you being friends with that preacher's daughter, or Tasha. What happened between you two, anyway? I hardly see her anymore.”
MJ is what happened. When she and I started hanging out, I kinda neglected my friendship with Tasha, my BFF since third grade. As for the preacher's daughterâMichelleâwe aren't really friends. Or even sort of. We tolerate each other because Tasha's friendship is the only thing we have in common. I'm guessing Michelle has even less love for me now, given my involvement in her sorry boyfriend's recent arrest. She ought to be grateful, but I doubt that's how she sees it.
Last semester I was arrested for running a home burglary ring, then the guy who was the
real
ringleader almost killed me and would have if MJ hadn't busted him to Lana. It hasn't been a month and Lana has already forgotten what she said when all that went down, which was how I could do worse for a friend. While it wasn't a glowing endorsement of MJ, it was better than what she's saying now. I'm about to ask why she'd think a rich friend would be better than one who would risk her own life to save meâlike MJ didâwhen she looks at me funny.
real
ringleader almost killed me and would have if MJ hadn't busted him to Lana. It hasn't been a month and Lana has already forgotten what she said when all that went down, which was how I could do worse for a friend. While it wasn't a glowing endorsement of MJ, it was better than what she's saying now. I'm about to ask why she'd think a rich friend would be better than one who would risk her own life to save meâlike MJ didâwhen she looks at me funny.
“What's wrong with you, Chanti?”
“Nothing.” Oh snap, here it comes. Supercop zeroing in on the target.
“Don't lie to me, girl.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You're sick. Your eyes are bloodshot, your color doesn't look right.” She steps closer to me. “You
are
sick. Trying to cover it up with breath mints. Must be the flu.”
are
sick. Trying to cover it up with breath mints. Must be the flu.”
“I'm not
that
sick, Mom.”
that
sick, Mom.”
“Oh, I see. You must have something planned this weekend if you're calling me âMom.' You won't be going anywhere but to bed, and get the thermometer from the medicine cabinet on your way. I'll be in there to read it, so don't try to fool me on the temperature.”
I'm smiling all the way to my bedroom. What a lucky break. Lana's so sure she's busted me trying to hide the flu that it will never occur to her that I'm trying to cover up something entirely different. So I'll be on lockdown all weekend, but that's better than for the rest of my life, and that's exactly what would happen if Lana finds out about the bodega robbery and how I didn't help the cops or the store owner.
Â
Not long after Lana left for work this morning to continue last night's stakeout, Bethanie called and asked if I wanted to hang. I had spent the last twenty-four hours waiting for the phone to ring, expecting some friend of Lana's from Robbery Division saying they had surveillance tape of her kid witnessing a holdup. I hadn't expected a call from Bethanie asking if I wanted to go to the mall, like what happened yesterday never did. We hadn't said a word while she drove me home right after the robbery, nothing except “See ya” when she pulled up in front of my house.
Now I felt guilty just talking to her, but I'd also been in bed pretending to be sick for the last twenty-four hours and really needed a diversion. Tasha started training for her new job at the movie theater this morning, so I can't call her. MJ and I still aren't on regular speaking terms. So I told Bethanie to come by and pick me up. When she gets here, I'll tell her Lana has me on lockdown with a fake cold and I can't go shopping. If I'd told her that on the phone, she probably wouldn't have come across town just to visit. Maybe it's the guilt of not staying around for the police report, or it could be having had a gun pulled on me by a meth addict, but yesterday has messed with my head. I really need to talk to someone about what happened and she's the only person who can know.
When I open my door, Bethanie doesn't even greet me, just asks if I have her phone.
“Why would I have your phone? And why did you keep your car running? That's not the best idea. You aren't in Cherry Creek anymore.”
“It's okay, I'm not coming in. I had my phone when I went into the store to get your stupid free tamales. I went to use it after I dropped you at home yesterday and it was gone.”
“It probably fell out of your bag with all your other stuff when Preppie tackled you to the floor.”
“He didn't tackle meâhe saved me. Anyway, that's what I figured so I checked the bodega.”
“You went back there? We got out clean and nowâ”
“I'm not stupid, and I definitely don't need the police in my life. I waited an hour to make sure the cops were gone, then sent someone else inside to look.”
“Who?”
“That's not importantâmy missing phone is. The person I sent checked on the floor under the shelves and couldn't find it anywhere, and the guy at the desk didn't have it.”
“Well, neither do I.”
She looks at me like she's not sure she believes me, then says, “Well, the guy at the desk wasn't the same one who was there at the holdup. Maybe the first cashier has it. I'll check the bodega again.”
“How do you know it wasn't the same guy if you sent someone else?”
“I was there, I just didn't go inside. I peeked in the door.”
“That might have been dangerous if the first guy had been there and recognized you. He could have called the cops and told them a witness had come back. He was probably at the police station giving a report, which is what we should have done.”
“Like you're never going back in there for the free tamales.”
“You went back less than two hours after the robbery. By next Friday, that guy will have forgotten what I look like. Besides, he and your phone may never be seen again if he has it.”
“Why do you say that?” she asks, sounding a little frantic.
“I go to the bodega practically every day and I've never seen him before. If I get robbed my first day on the job, I'm never coming back.”
“I hope you're wrong.”
“What's your obsession with that phone, anyway? You freaked out when Ms. Reeves took it from you in class a few weeks ago. Now this. You may be scamming Langdon Prep, but I
know
you can just go buy another one. For that matter, you can probably afford to buy AT and T.”
know
you can just go buy another one. For that matter, you can probably afford to buy AT and T.”
“A phone is like an extension of yourself.”
“A phone is like a communication device.”
“Look, if you don't have it ...” she says, turning to leave.
“Wait. I thought you wanted to hang out. You could have asked if I had your phone when you called. Maybe you really just want to talk about what happened yesterday.”
“No, I wanted to see your face when I asked about it. I know how you like to snoop. I wanted to know if you had it and whether you'd looked through it.”
It's the first chilly day of fall, so I close the door behind me to keep the heat in and walk past her to sit on the top step of the porch. It's clear she isn't coming in, so maybe I can get her to talk out here while we inhale the fumes from her idling car.
“Puffing is illegal, you know.”
“What?”
“Letting your car run like that. Police will ticket you.”
“How do you know this stuff? Besides, in this neighborhood, I'm sure they have more serious crime to fight than me and my car. So you really don't have my phone?”
“I told you I didn't. You seriously thought you'd be able to tell if I was lying? There are people a whole lot more skilled than you who have tried and can't figure out when I'm lying.” Mostly Lana, but there have been a few others. “What's so important in your phone that you think I'd not only snoop but then lie about snooping?”
“Nothing special. Same as what's in yours.”
“Somehow I doubt it. I've just got a few numbersâhardly an extension of myself. Let me guessâthe secret formula for the cure to acne? Compromising photos?”
She looks at me like I'm stupid until I mention the photos. Then she turns slightly red.
“Oh no, Bethanie. Please tell me you haven't been sexting photos of yourself. But if so, who to?”
“Don't be an idiot.”
“Well, considering your concern about people snooping, you should put a password on it.”
“I did. Okay, I
will
if I ever get it back.”
will
if I ever get it back.”
“Since you're here, you want to watch a movie or something? My mother thinks I'm sick because I came home smelling like puke.”
“Ew. Gross.”
“Yeah, well, that's how I react to possibly getting shot. You know, like what happened yesterday?”
“We were nowhere close to getting shot, drama queen. Haven't you ever been in a holdup before?”
She says it like a normal person would say, “Haven't you ever been to Disneyland before?”
“Wow, you must have lived hard before that lottery ticket turned you into Paris Hilton.”
“Stop snooping, Chanti.”
“If you won't have a sharing moment, at least keep me company for a minute. Lana won't let me leave the house.”
“Who?”
“My mom.”
“You call her by her name? My mother would never play that.”
“She was a little squeamish about being sixteen and having a kid, so when I started talking she taught me to call her Lana, thinking it almost sounds like
mama
,” I explain. That's one answer. The other is that it's better if as few people as possible know Lana has a kid, considering her clientele are big on revenge.
mama
,” I explain. That's one answer. The other is that it's better if as few people as possible know Lana has a kid, considering her clientele are big on revenge.
“Well, just leave and get back before she does. How's she gonna know?”
“She has her ways.”
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