Sanaj handed out the last two tests in silence and looked at Claire apologetically. "Perhaps you should talk with your friend outside," he said. "So as not to disturb the other students."
"But I'm taking the test!"
Monica began to slowly dial a number. Sanaj grew pale, watching her - he was clearly one of those who knew the score. "No," he said, and grabbed Claire's test from her desk. "I'm sorry. You can take the test once you're finished with them. Please go."
"But - "
"Go now!"
The other students had their heads down, though they were shooting Claire looks that were sympathetic, scared, or angry. Nobody tried to stand up for her.
Claire put her pen down, looked Sanaj in the eyes, and said, "Save my test. I'm coming back."
He nodded and turned away.
She walked down to meet Monica on the stage.
"Well, that was easy," Monica said, and flipped her phone closed. "Hey, loser. How goes the war? Oh, yeah, you lost."
"What do you want?" Claire was determined to get it over with, fast. She wasn't interested in fighting, or spar-ring, or even sarcasming. Monica smiled at her and put her phone in her tiny little purse.
"Walk with me," she said. "Let's find out."
Claire resisted making an Eve-style joke about Monica's gaudy shoes, and silently followed Monica out of the classroom. Gina and Jennifer brought up the rear guard.
Outside, the hallway was mostly deserted, except for a few students hurrying late to classes. Monica led the way around the corner to a break area with well-used chairs and study tables. She took a seat, showing off her perfectly waxed legs.
She looked like a queen on a throne. Instead of standing in front of her like some criminal waiting to be judged, Claire moved to a chair off to the side and flopped down. Monica's smile curdled. "Fine," Claire said. "You've got me. What now? The beatings will continue until my attitude improves?"
"Cut the crap," Monica said. "I'm not in the mood. What did you do to my brother?"
"Your . . ." Claire sat up slowly. "Richard? What happened to Richard?"
"Like you don't know? Please. He's missing. He disappeared right after he talked to you - went out the door and never came back. I know it's something you said to him. Tell me what you talked about." Her eyes narrowed at Claire's silence. "Don't make me say please."
Claire tried to stand up. Gina, positioned behind her, pushed down on her shoulders and held her in the chair.
Jennifer moved in from the side and took out a folding knife.
"Tell me," Monica said, "or I promise you, this is going to get ugly. And so will you."
Claire felt a nasty, cold burst of fear. Sure, she could scream the place down, but this was Morganville. She wasn't sure anybody would come. And besides, Monica - who'd had a brief, shining period as the town pariah - had turned back into her usual glossy, predatory self again. Bishop had interviewed her and found her amusing. Claire figured he thought lots of nasty, stinging things were amusing, too. But he'd given her his official seal of approval and sent her out with a new sense of entitlement, which Monica had promptly translated into a mandate to hurt everyone who'd kicked her when she was down.
Some of those people were no longer around at all, which put Claire among the lucky ones.
"I went to Richard to ask him for a favor," Claire said as calmly as she could. "He tried to help, but he couldn't. So I left. The end. As far as I know, he was having a normal day; I didn't see anything or anybody weird hanging around. That's all I know."
"What kind of favor did you ask him for?" Monica asked. Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw the glitter of the knife as it turned in Jennifer's fingers. "Let me guess. Loser boyfriend rescue favor?"
Claire didn't answer. There really wasn't any good way to go with that. Monica smiled, but it wasn't a comforting kind of smile.
"So my brother turned you down when you wanted him to use his influence to spring your skanky boyfriend, and you made him disappear," she said. "Nice. I guess you figure the next mayor might be a bigger idiot and let you have what you want."
Claire took a deep breath. "Why would I think that? Since apparently running Morganville is a family business, and you'd be next in line. Oh, I see your point. You're definitely the bigger idiot."
"Ooh, she is just begging for it," Gina said, and pressed cruelly hard down on Claire's shoulders. "Cut her, Jen. Give her something to think about."
"I'm serious! Why would I think a new mayor would help me any more than Richard? Look, I like your brother. I like him a lot more than I like you. Why would I do anything to hurt him? Am I likely to get anybody more likely to help me?"
Monica didn't move. She didn't say anything. Jennifer took her silence for encouragement, and put the edge of the knife on Claire's cheek.
It felt hot. Claire stopped breathing.
"You're sure," Monica said. "You don't know what happened to my brother."
Now she could breathe, because Monica hadn't nodded a go-ahead on the cutting. "No. But maybe I could find out. If you don't piss me off."
The pressure of the knife went away. Claire kept watching Monica, which was where the real threat was coming from.
"Why would you help me?" Monica asked, which was a pretty reasonable question.
"Not helping you. I'm looking to help Richard. I like Richard."
Monica nodded. "You do that. I'm going to give you a day. If I don't hear from Richard, or he doesn't show up alive and well, then you're the next one who disappears. And I promise you, they'll never find the body."
"If I had a nickel for every time somebody said that to me around this town . . ." Claire said, and Monica's lips quirked into something that was almost a smile. "Come on; you know it's true. Morganville. Come for the education, stay for the terrifying drama."
"Try being born here," Monica said.
"I know. Not easy." Claire looked up at Gina, who was still holding her down; Gina exchanged looks with Monica, then shrugged and let go. Claire flexed her shoulders. She'd probably have aches later, if not bruises. "How's your mom holding up?"
"She's . . . not, exactly. It's been hard." Monica actually thawed a little. Not that they would ever like each other, Claire thought; Monica was a bully, and a bitch, and she would always feel entitled to more than anyone around her. But there were moments when Monica was just a girl only a little older than Claire - someone who'd already lost her dad, was losing her mom, and was afraid of losing her brother.
Then she surprised Claire by asking, "Your parents okay?"
"I don't know if okay is the right word for it, but they're safe. For now, anyway." Claire picked up her backpack. "Mind if I go finish my test now?"
Monica raised one eyebrow. "You want to take the test? Seriously? I was giving you an excuse, you know. They'd let you make it up. You could probably just buy the answers." She said that as if she really couldn't imagine wanting to take any test, ever.
"I like tests," Claire said. "If I didn't, why would I still be in Morganville?"
Monica smiled this time. "Wow. Good point. It is kind of pass/fail."
Test turned in (and still ahead of everyone else), Claire headed for the University Center. Specifically, she headed for the coffee bar, which was where Eve put in her slave-wage hours pulling espresso shots for the college crowd. There was more of a line than usual; with Common Grounds being "closed for renovations" (according to the sign), more students were settling for the local fare than usual. Behind the hissing machines, Eve worked with silent concentration, barely looking up as she delivered each order, but when she said, "Mocha," and slid it across, Claire touched her on the hand.
"Hey," she said.
Eve looked up, startled, and blinked for a second, as if she had trouble remembering who Claire was, and why she was standing in front of her interrupting the flow of work.
Then she yelled, "Tim! Taking five!"
"No, you're not!" Tim, who was working the register, yelled back. "Do not take that apron off. Eve!"
Too late. Eve's apron hit the counter, and she ducked under the barrier to join Claire on the other side. Tim sighed and motioned one of the other register clerks to cover the espresso station as they walked away.