It was the same voice she’d heard too many times before, from girls who were flirting with Jay. Her good-bye was a little too eager, a little too choreographed, as if she’d planned her moves before Jay had arrived.

Violet noticed too that Mike’s sister was cute, almost at the same time she realized that the other girl had no idea that Violet was sitting there, in the dark, watching them while she waited for Jay.

The girl cocked one foot up behind her. It wasn’t an obvious gesture, but Violet recognized it for what it was meant to be: coy and endearing. And then she saw the girl twirl a strand of hair from her ponytail with her finger as she spoke again, trying to capture Jay’s interest.

Jay was just opening the car door as he turned around to respond to her. That was when the interior light blinked on, and Violet was suddenly aware that she was no longer cloaked by darkness.

Mike’s sister saw too.

Violet bit her lip as she raised her hand and waved innocently at Megan, who was standing motionless, like a statue, her foot kicked up behind her. She almost felt guilty as Megan visibly slumped, her foot dropping back to the unstable-looking floor beneath her. Almost.

Jay smiled at Violet, oblivious to Megan’s flirtations, as he climbed in and closed the door. “See, I told you I wouldn’t be long.”

Violet felt better, realizing that Jay didn’t seem to notice the other girl. Although Jay wasn’t off the hook that easily, she was still mad at him.

Now, not only did he have a new boyfriend, apparently he had a new admirer too.

Just as they reached the mouth of the driveway, Violet felt the sudden stab of a headache coming on. She massaged her fingertips over her temples, and then at the base of her neck, trying to rub away the tension.

A pair of headlights met them at the junction of the road, and just as Jay turned, a beat-up red pickup truck barreled past them into the driveway they’d just pulled out of. It barely gave them enough time to get out of the way.

As they drove in silence, Violet tried to tell herself that she was being a baby. That Jay loved her. And only her. Not Mike, and not Mike’s sister either.

And she believed it. But she was still annoyed that their date had been tarnished by the detour.

She felt the pain in her head subsiding, diminishing a little more with each rotation of the tires, until it was nothing more than an uncomfortable memory.

Jay pulled to a stop in front of her house, and she let him kiss her good-bye. It was a good kiss. And within moments, she was too preoccupied to remember that she was trying to be mad at him, too distracted to care about her grudge, the one he was still annoyingly unaware of.

Dazed by the passionate farewell, she forgot not to wave good-bye to him before closing the door behind her.

She may have even lifted her foot demurely as she did so.

Chapter 8

Violet was unlocking her car when the woman in the crisp white suit appeared.

School was just letting out, and students crowded the parking lot and lined up on the sidewalks in front of the bus lanes, eagerly awaiting their chance to escape. Somewhere behind Violet, a stereo with its bass turned way too high was bumping out a country song that shook the windows of the cars around it.

“Violet? Violet Ambrose?” The woman didn’t really seem to be asking the question; she seemed to know exactly who Violet was.

But Violet had no idea who she was; all she knew was that the woman was definitely out of place amid the students of White River High, and she looked even less like she belonged to the faculty. Besides, Violet was certain she would have remembered this woman if she had seen her around school. And while the boy who trailed behind her looked barely older than Violet, he too seemed oddly out of place in his faded black T-shirt and ripped jeans. Straight, nearly jet black hair, too long and unkempt, fell sideways across his eyes, adding to the impression that he would be more at home at a skate park than in the parking lot of a small-town school with country music playing in the background.

He kept his hands in his pockets and glared at the asphalt beneath him, never glancing Violet’s way.

Violet pulled her key out of the lock.

“Are you Violet Ambrose?” The woman awaited Violet’s confirmation.

“Uh-huh.” Her curiosity was definitely piqued.

The woman stepped forward, holding out her hand formally. “I’m Sara Priest. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Sara Priest? That name . . .

Of the FBI? That Sara Priest.

Oh, crap, crap, crap! Violet silently cursed herself.

Violet scrutinized the woman as she absently shook her hand, taking in the details of her meticulous appearance. Not just the pristine suit and the flawlessly sleek ponytail but also her no-nonsense demeanor. She exuded a confidence that Violet knew she would never be able to pull off.

“Can we talk?” FBI Sara asked when it was evident that Violet didn’t have anything to say.

“I guess so,” Violet conceded, looking around to see if anyone was watching the three of them. She tried to think of some pretense—some reason—not to have this conversation right now.

She was suddenly irritated with Jay for having to work today, mad that she’d driven herself to school.

So now here she was. All alone. With FBI Sara Priest.

Crap!

From the sidewalk, near the entrance of the school, Violet saw Mike waiting for his bus. He waved to her, enthusiastic, kind of like a puppy. Guilt over how envious she’d felt toward his new friendship with Jay flooded her, reminding her of how childishly she’d been behaving. Violet lifted her hand and waved back.