“Normally, I would scold you for that,” I started to say. “But right now, I think we need your moxy.”
“We sure as hell do.”
“Nice cast, by the way,” Kira said offhandedly as she fell into step next to us. I looked sideways at her.
“Thanks.”
“Whatever.”
Just then Chris Townsend walked around the corner, nearly crashing into us. Since breaking up with Leona last night, he looked a bit under the weather. His button-down shirt was wrinkled; his blond hair was messy. I was sure he was nursing a broken heart.
“Bitch,” he spit at Leona as he stomped past. I gasped.
“Pig!” she called back, barely able to control her rage.
Okay, so maybe his heart wasn’t that broken. Glad I didn’t mention it out loud.
Once Chris was out of sight, Leona cleared her throat and then moved forward, busting us into the girls’ bathroom. Izzie promptly shut and locked the door. “It’s a catastrophe,” Leona said, not bringing up the altercation with her ex. “This is a level-one alert. We might need to call someone in to help us.”
“Mary Rudick?” Izzie asked, and I felt my entire body tense. I dug my nails into the wood of my crutch.
Leona glanced over at me. “Um, no. That’s not a great idea. But I’ll look into other options. Maybe there’s a PR firm that helps out people with ruined reps or something.”
Kira laughed.
“What?” Leona asked.
Kira walked toward the sinks. She shook her head and then went through her purse as she studied her reflection. “No one can help us at this point,” she said. “We’re ten feet under.”
“Six feet under,” I corrected. She caught my gaze in the mirror.
“We’re buried way deeper than that.”
Good point. I turned to Leona. “So how widespread is the damage?”
“Facebook,” Leona started, clicking through her phone. “Twitter, MySpace, and I suspect we’ll hear from the main office any second now.”
Kira exhaled and patted under her eyes with concealer. Then she applied lip gloss before putting her purse aside and resting her palms on the side of the porcelain sink. “Even when I was in charge, nothing like this got out.” She looked over at me, her face finally registering how scared she was. “How did they find out?”
“Maybe the football players found out from an ex-client?” Izzie offered.
“No,” I said. “We’ve been there before. Our clients don’t know our true identities. This had to be an inside job.”
“Ahem,” Leona said, nodding her chin at Kira before getting out her small notebook and flipping through the pages.
“Don’t blame me,” Kira snapped, spinning to face her.
“Oh, yeah. Because you sabotaging us would be so out of the ordinary.”
“I was trying to help!” Kira shouted. “And it would have worked if—”
I held up my hands. “Stop. We don’t have time for this.” I wasn’t going to argue again. Kira and I had been going back and forth via e-mail for weeks. She refused to see the error of her ways (secretly restarting an organization filled with vengeance), and I refused to admit that I stole her boyfriend. (Because I didn’t. They were broken up for almost two weeks before Joel and I admitted that we liked each other. That wasn’t stealing. Really.)
“Now,” I continued. “I don’t think it was a Kitten. This stunt has ruined us all.” I tapped my finger on my bottom lip. “Leona, who is on the suspect list, so far?”
She licked her index finger and flipped through her pages. “Okay, first up is Aiden.”
“Interesting,” Kira said immediately.
I clenched my jaw but didn’t say anything. I looked over to see Izzie supportively smile at me. I appreciated that. “Next.”
“Chloe.”
“Ah, of course.” Kira snorted.
“What?”
“Nothing, Tess. It’s just that anytime something is even slightly wrong, you blame Chloe.”
“She hit me—”
“—in the head with an alarm clock,” Kira finished with a smirk. “We know. But it doesn’t mean she would destroy the entire squad. Not everyone is after you.”
Leona laughed. “Except for maybe you.”
“Shut up. I told you I’m over that. Tessa and I have an understanding. We—”
“Hold up,” Leona said, picking up the SOS phone and scrolling through a message. “This may sound crazy, but we just got a cheater request.”
“Is it from the hockey team this time?” Kira rolled her eyes.
“No. It’s from Janet Springer. She thinks Garrett Bash is cheating on her.”
“Really?” I shifted on my crutches. Although I should be surprised that anyone would ask for our services right now, I immediately slipped back into spy mode. “Any suspects? I know he’s best friends with Stacy Sadera.”
“Best friends. Right.” Kira burst out laughing. “We’re not in fifth grade anymore, Tess. Boys and girls don’t stay best friends for two years and travel together for a band unless they’re hooking up. They are totally sneak-dating.”
“No way,” Leona scoffed. “Stacy said he’s like a brother to her.”
“Ew, only if she makes out with her brother regularly behind the band-room Dumpster! I’ve heard rumors.”
“Gross,” Leona, Izzie, and I said at the same time.
“That’s awful,” Izzie continued, pulling her red hair into her hands, tugging on it absentmindedly. “Why pretend that they’re best friends?”
Kira scrunched her nose as if she weren’t comfortable thinking about it. “I’m guessing he wants to keep the relationship quiet. Maybe to not hurt Janet, or maybe because he’s got lots of friends.”
“I buy it,” I said. “Our Naughty List tips have never been wrong, have they?”
“Well,” Leona interjected, “unless you count the fake out with Blaze Harmon.”
Hm. “I don’t think that should tally into our results. All real inquiries have been one hundred percent. Sort of.” Unless you counted Aiden, but again, he was a setup.
“So …” Izzie dropped her hands, looking confused. “Does that mean we’re still spying?”
We all paused and looked at her, sort of unsure how to answer the question. I mean, we were outed now. It would be a lot more difficult to sneak around.