Read Online The Snake Tattoo by Linda Barnes - Free Book Online Page B

felt like she was estimating the cost of my clothes. “Why did Jerry go to you? I mean, did he look in the Yellow Pages?”
    I kept my temper in check. “Well, I suppose he’s worried about Valerie.”
    â€œI’ll bet.”
    â€œIs that supposed to be sarcastic?”
    She didn’t reply.
    â€œDid Valerie say anything to you about going away?” I asked. “Running away?”
    She shook her head no. The brown hair bounced. She used too much makeup, too pale a foundation. Dark liner encircled her narrow eyes, and her lips were pale purple. If I had to choose a word to sum her up, “sullen” would be a leading contender.
    â€œDid you get the feeling Valerie was unhappy?” I said.
    â€œIn this dump? You kidding?”
    â€œThis is a dump?”
    â€œSchool is awful, you know.”
    With that off her chest, she pulled out a pack of Virginia Slims and lit up. I resisted the impulse to slap her hand. I’m an ex-smoker myself—started before her age—but it startles me when I see kids light up. I mean, these days they know what they’re doing to their lungs. They can read it right on the box.
    â€œWant one?” she said.
    â€œNo thanks,” I said mildly, refraining from pointing out the Surgeon General’s warning and trying not to gulp down the second-hand smoke too eagerly. “Are Valerie’s folks worried about her?”
    â€œProbably frantic,” she said as if she were enjoying the idea. “That is, if they even know.”
    She was so unconcerned, I wanted to shake her.
    â€œWait a minute,” I said. “Maybe I’m not understanding something. Does Valerie live here? Board here?”
    â€œShe lives at home. I board.”
    â€œSo Valerie’s parents would notice if she didn’t turn up for the night, right?”
    â€œShe’s not a child, Ms., uh, Carlyle. They’d probably assume she was staying with somebody here.”
    â€œWith you?”
    â€œMaybe. But she isn’t with me.”
    â€œDid you call her parents to ask if she’s sick or something?”
    â€œLook, Valerie’s not dumb. She’s not going to hop in a car with some rapist, you know. She’s got judgment. She’s been to New York.”
    I didn’t see where the last two statements jibed.
    â€œYou know,” Elsie said in a further attempt to convince me, “she’s almost fifteen. She can quit school next year, and they can’t do a damn thing about it.” She made “fifteen” sound like “forty-five.”
    â€œWhat about you?” I asked.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWhy do you think she ran away?”
    She stared at the top textbook in her pile of three— Analytic Chemistry . “I can’t say.”
    â€œCan’t or won’t?”
    â€œCan’t.” she said.
    â€œWhen was the last time you saw her?”
    â€œI didn’t write it down,” she said.
    â€œThink,” I said.
    â€œI’m gonna be late,” she said.
    â€œRight,” I said.
    â€œMonday, and then she called me Monday night.”
    â€œFrom home?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œWas she upset?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAnything unusual about the conversation?”
    â€œNo.” She looked pointedly at her wristwatch, and said, “I’m going to get a detention.”
    â€œIs there somebody else I should talk to, another friend?”
    â€œI’m Valerie’s best friend. Nobody else would tell you anything.”
    â€œA teacher?”
    She gave a deep sigh, probably at the impossibility of getting rid of me. “You could talk to Geoff, I guess.”
    â€œAnd Geoff is …”
    â€œA teacher. We call a lot of the teachers by their first names. It encourages closeness.”
    Bullshit, I almost said.
    â€œWhere can I find this Geoff?” I asked.
    â€œDrama block. On stage or in his office.” She took a