How to Find a Missing Girl by Victoria Wlosok EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Victoria Wlosok
- Language: English
- Genre: Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 14, 9:48 PM
Everyone knows you wear black to a stakeout. It’s common knowledge,
right up there with wlw listen to girl in red and having mental breakdowns
at school dances nearly lands you in shitty mental hospitals. Sammy
Valdez-Taylor, hacker extraordinaire and one-third of my sapphic amateur
detective agency, nods along as I explain this, my gloved fingers irritatedly
resting on—but not quite rubbing—the bridge of my nose.
I glance at her neon-yellow Hatsune Miku shirt, short checkered skirt,
and holographic jumbo pink platform boots. “So why,” I ask her with my
teeth clenched in what I’m guessing is decidedly not my most charming
smile, “are you wearing every other color?”
Next to me, Imani—the other third of the agency—snickers and leans
back against their car. They parked right in front of the Valdez-Taylors’,
which would be more of a problem if Sammy’s parents didn’t love the two
of us. But as long as Sammy keeps her grades up, her family doesn’t care
where she goes at night—or what she looks like doing it.
“Is it really that bad?” Sammy asks, tugging at the space buns she’s
managed to wrangle her thick brown curls into. I sigh, and my fingers start
rubbing.
The thing is, Heather Nasato would never forgive us if we screwed up
this job. She’s currently our agency’s best client, but that’s only because
she’s been a paranoid mess ever since she started dating her douchebag
boyfriend Nathan Deveraux last month. Which is exactly why the three of
us are out tonight, about to conduct surveillance of said douchebag
boyfriend, and not at home working on the soul-crushing process of
applying to college. Turns out a customer is a customer, even when she
happens to be your last (and only) ex-girlfriend.
“You know the good thing about being a cynic?” Imani asks as they pop
open the trunk of their car with a smile. Out of the three of us, Imani’s the
only one who can drive—Sammy hasn’t applied for her learner’s permit
yet, and I’m pansexual. It goes against my nature.
Sammy shrugs as Imani emerges from the trunk of the Homicide Honda
with a stack of neatly folded clothes—black, I note approvingly—and holds
it out to her. “You’re always prepared.”
A large grin finds its way onto Sammy’s face. “You finished them
already?”
“Last night,” Imani confirms, their smile softening. “I spent way more
time on them than on the Pink Ladies’ jacket alterations for Grease, though,
so don’t tell Mrs. Landry.”
“This is amazing. Give me, like, two seconds to change!” Sammy says,
and then she darts back into her house. Imani and I exchange dubious
glances as the door rattles shut, and I shake my head. We’re going to be
here a while.
At least the weather is nice. It’s a crisp, cloudless October night in
Hillwood, filled with the tantalizing promise of falling leaves and blustery
winds that even my favorite black longcoat can’t completely stave off. It
doesn’t matter, though, because my blood is electric under my skin. This is
my first agency job since my fiasco at the homecoming dance last month—
since the one-year anniversary of my older sister Stella’s disappearance
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