Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series Callie Rose (i read a book TXT) 📖

She makes an annoyed noise and brings her hands to her head, her fingertips pressing into her temples. She looks like she’s trying to do some kind of cheap mind-reading act, but I don’t point that out, stepping back and waiting as she thinks.

“I seriously don’t know,” she bites out. “It’s not like Iris told me—” She breaks off. “Wait.”

“What? What?”

“She said something once about how this girl was at, like, every party thrown by any of the Waverly boys.” She drops her hands, leveling another glare at me. “So if you go to a Waverly party, she should be there.”

My heart seems to kickstart in my chest.

It’s not a lot. But it’s something.

11

The guys swing by to pick me up from school, and by the time they arrive, Savannah is long gone, having flounced off in a huff after swearing that little tidbit was all she could remember.

Everyone in the car looks defeated as I climb into the front seat, frustrated by the fact that their long stakeout of Judge Hollowell’s house revealed nothing. But when I tell them what Savannah just told me, Chase’s face lights up.

“That’s fucking perfect! When I was asking around about a girl with a flower tattoo, I got wind of a Waverly party coming up this weekend. It sounds pretty big.” He grins. “And even better, it’s an indoor pool party.”

My breath catches as he says the word “pool party”, and a barrage of vivid images and sensations flood my mind and body. The air in the car seems to heat up several degrees, and there’s a loaded pause before Dax clears his throat.

“That’s perfect. We won’t even have to ask around for a girl with a tattoo. With everybody in bathing suits, we should be able to spot her ourselves.”

The party is on Friday, which means I spend two days feeling like a worthless lump as my mom sits in prison and I try to keep myself from going insane.

I go to school, staring up at my teachers like a zombie as I try to focus, but I spend every lecture daydreaming up scenarios where Iris’s friend leads us to pictures of the blond cheerleader and Hollowell together, evidence of their affair. It wouldn’t prove he murdered her, but if we can prove a connection between them, that’s a solid start.

On Friday evening, we all gather at Linc’s house. Both of his parents are out, and Bri, their new Executive Housekeeper, is in the apartment in the service quarters where my mom used to stay. The room I stayed in is still full of boxes of Mom’s and my stuff, and the closet and dresser still have clothes I didn’t bother to pack when Linc first brought me over to River’s place.

I dig out the bikini I brought from Arizona and slip it on, then throw a pair of jeans and a top over it. The guys don’t bother throwing jeans over their suits, since it would be too tight a fit. They just put on t-shirts and jackets. We’re barely going to be outside anyway.

“So, what do we ask this girl when we find her?” Chase asks as we drive across Fox Hill toward the Waverly school district.

“How she knows Judge Hollowell. How Iris and he met. If she has any evidence of the two of them hooking up.” I count them off on my fingers as I list them.

“If she does know Hollowell, how do we know she won’t tell him we were poking around?”

“We don’t. But we have to stop playing it safe.” I chew my lip, glancing out the window at the dark, snowy landscape. “And we’ll be careful how much we tell her.”

Twenty minutes later, Linc pulls to a stop in a neighborhood I don’t recognize. Cars line the street, and one house several yards ahead of us has kids hanging out on the large front lawn. They’re dressed in swimsuits and probably freezing their asses off, but the guys are acting all manly and cool, and the girls clearly don’t want to cover up their best assets as they huddle together, smoking and drinking out of Solo cups.

The house is nowhere near as fancy as Linc’s or the twins’, but it is big. And when we step inside and follow the sound of shouts, laughter, and blaring music toward the back, we find a massive pool house attached to the mansion.

Whoever lives here obviously decided they’d rather spend their money on practical stuff than on decorative bells and whistles. Can’t say I blame them.

The pool is bigger than some of the outdoor ones I used to go to in Arizona, a fat rectangle that occupies the middle of the space. Floor to ceiling windows overlook the backyard on one side, and there are lounge chairs and tables set up on the tiled floor surrounding the pool. There’s an attached anteroom where we peel off our outwear and hang it on hooks, then we step back into the massive pool house.

The heavy thud of the bass seems even louder in the echoey room, and kids cluster in groups in the pool, swimming in the middle or clinging to the edges as they drink and gossip.

“Hey, what the fuck? Who invited Linwood?”

A guy who reminds me of Trent—broad-shouldered and a little oafish—steps into our path as we walk inside.

“We invited ourselves,” Linc says coolly, eyeing him with the same disdainful expression he usually wears when he looks at Trent. All four of the kings are athletic and muscular, but none of them seem to have a fondness for jocks. Not that I blame them, based on the ones I’ve met so far.

“What, got tired of banging the ugly chicks that show up at Linwood parties?”

The guy laughs at his own stupid joke, and I resist the urge to step forward and shove him backward into the pool. We need keep our heads down, not go around starting fights.

Lincoln stiffens and clenches his hands, but he