Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) Gemma Halliday (13 ebook reader TXT) 📖

"You look great," he said, giving her outfit (or lack thereof) a once-over. "Very authentic."

"Well, I am her," Sophia said, gesturing to the larger-than-life version on the wall behind her. "You want a picture?"

"Sure," Chase said. He nodded to the rest of us, and we all crowded around Sophia. Some of us closer than others, I noted, watching her put one arm around Chase's midsection as the flash went off.

"I'm surprised VizaSoft expected you to be here," I told her as we all stepped out of our pose.

"Oh?" she said, her fashionably thick eyebrows rising.

"Considering you must be in mourning." I swear I tried my hardest to keep the sarcasm out of my voice as my gaze flickered to her hemline.

Some of the light went out of her eyes, her smile dropping. And I suddenly felt bad for bringing it up. I realized how much it must be taking out of her to keep the smiling face in place for photo after photo.

"Yes. Well, the show must go on," she said softly.

"Sorry," I said, honestly meaning it as her eyes hit the floor.

She shrugged. "The best thing I can do for Connor now is carry on his legacy." She glanced up at the poster. "The game is still going to be huge, and I expect I'll be doing a lot of publicity for it."

I nodded, believing her on both points.

"Did you ever talk to Connor's manager?" Sophia asked. "You were looking for him at the memorial."

I nodded. "We did. He was…" I hesitated, again not wanting to tarnish Connor's image for her. At least not here and not like this. "…very enlightening."

"Oh?" she asked, her pretty blue eyes going wide. "About what?"

"Just…Connor's business practices. You know, filler for our article."

"Oh." She nodded. "Sure. Well, anyway, enjoy the ball, huh?" she said, her eyes flickering to the next group of convention goers waiting for photos. "Maybe I'll catch up to you later."

I opened my mouth to answer, but again, I could see she was addressing one member of our group in particular.

"You have my number," Chase told her as we stepped away, heading toward the main dance floor of the ball.

The kung pao tofu churned in my stomach at the thought of Chase comforting the scantily clad goddess on the dance floor at the ball. I suddenly felt silly in my homemade costume and too tight shorts.

"You okay?" Chase asked.

"Fine. Just…had some bad Chinese for dinner."

He gave me a look, but luckily I was saved from elaborating as someone hailed me from the growing crowd.

"Hartley, is that you?"

I spun at the sound of my name to find myself face-to-face with Pikachu. Or, that is, Ellen dressed once again in her yellow Pokémon costume. I gestured for the others to go on, and I'd catch up, pausing as Ellen made her way toward me.

"Hey, Ellen," I told her. I noticed she was with another Pokémon, a guy in a Squirtle outfit, his foam shell cutting a wide swath through the crowd as they approached me.

"Hey. I hardly recognized you," Ellen said. "You look so…" Her eyes went to my booty barely contained by the short-shorts.

I felt my cheeks warm. I knew this outfit was a bad idea.

"…different," Ellen finally ended on.

"Thanks," I mumbled, though I wasn't entirely sure it was a compliment.

"I saw you talking to Tyler today," Ellen said, taking my attention away from my outfit. "After fifth period."

"Yeah, I was." I felt a frown form on my forehead. "Wait—you know Tyler?"

Ellen looked sheepish. "Well, no. I mean, not well. I don't know know him. But I've seen him around."

The frown deepened. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

She blinked at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when we told you it was Tyler who really created Connor's game, why didn't you say anything?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered. "You never asked."

I shook my head. "You never said you knew him."

"Is that relevant?" Ellen asked.

No. Maybe. I wasn't sure. But it felt like it was weird she hadn't shared that information with us then.

"Anyway, what were you two talking about?" she pressed.

And it felt weird that she was so interested in what we'd talked to him about now. What had she been doing lingering in the hallway that afternoon? The bell had already rung by then. Why hadn't she been on her way to class?

"Nothing," I said, watching Ellen's big brown eyes that I'd always thought held a distinct note of sincerity. But at the moment, I was questioning how well I actually knew Ellen.

"Oh. Well, okay." She looked like she didn't believe me.

But before she could ask more, her Squirtle friend grabbed her arm. "Dude, Ashlyn and Brayden are here," he said, gesturing toward a couple other Pokémon who had just arrived.

"See ya," Ellen told me, following Squirtle as they caught up with their friends.

I watched them go, my mind still churning over the possibility that Ellen was hiding something from me. She'd idolized Connor. She'd been at the scene when he'd been killed. And she'd seemed to pop up around us whenever we'd been at the con. Coincidence? Or had Ellen been keeping tabs on us for another reason…

"Hey," Sam said, coming up behind me.

"Hey." I couldn't help still watching Ellen and Squirtle as they waddled through the crowd in their costumes.

"Guess who I just saw ducking out of the ballroom," Sam said. She didn't wait for me to make an actual guess before blurting out, "Jason Pruit!"

That got my attention. "Connor's manager?" I asked, turning to face her. "What was he doing here?"

Sam shrugged. "Publicity for the game maybe? He wasn't in costume."

"Did he see you?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. He shot me a dirty look then stalked