Anonymous Encounters(29)

"So what brings you guys to Canterdale?" I asked curiously. "I mean,  it's midway through senior year. Why didn't you guys finish at your old  high school?"

"It's a long story," chuckled one brother. "And more complicated than  we'd like it to be. But listen, we gotta get back, Chrissy's probably  chopped that cat into fifty pieces by now without us. Feel better, you  hear?"

"Sure," I said, intrigued. "But listen, there's a party tomorrow night  at her house. I'm sure Chrissy wouldn't mind if I invited you," I said  hastily, "Everyone's invited and we've been friends since childhood,  she's almost like family to me. Stop by if you have a chance. Meet some  people, have some drinks, no pressure," I said a little lamely.

"Sure," said Blake as he sauntered out. "We've got nothing planned for Friday right Bryan?"

"Nope, not yet," winked his brother. "But we do now."

And with that, the boys were gone  …  and my Friday night was shaping up indeed.





CHAPTER THREE


Blake




The girl had been amazing. She was beautiful, a little shy, and sweet.  Sure, she'd fainted at the sight and smell of dead animals, but who  wouldn't? That shit's disgusting.

Of course my brother and I hadn't batted an eye. Dead corpses and  spilled blood is part of our job for better or worse. Because, you see,  we're undercover cops at Canterdale High, kind of like Jonah Hill and  Channing Tatum in 21 Jump Street. Due to our youthful looks, we've been  placed at school to ferret out an alleged drug racket.

It wasn't altogether unexpected. It's is a ritzy academy in a nice  neighborhood, the kids with plenty of disposable income and little adult  supervision. With no one around, a bunch of bored rich kids with money  usually turns to crime and drugs are a common sin of choice.

So Bryan and I have been sited here. The assignment had been sudden, our sergeant calling us into his office just last week.

"Officers Hanson," he said nodding to me, then at my brother. We'd  graduated from the Academy two years ago but were no longer newbies.  Walking the Tenderloin beat in San Francisco is an all-night racket,  something that will transform the greenest rookie into a hardened cop  overnight, the poverty, disease, domestic abuse and general crime  overwhelming. Just last week, a woman had been arrested for tossing her  newborn baby girl out the window in a rage. Can you believe that? A baby  thrown like garbage from the eighth floor. Needless to say, the little  girl didn't survive.

So Canterdale wasn't going to be cakewalk, sure, but there wouldn't be  the atrocities we witnessed in a crime-ridden neighborhood  …  we hoped.

"Hanson," barked my sergeant. "We're doing a sting in St. Francis Wood, you know that neighborhood just south of Tyleret?"

My brother and I nodded. St. Francis Wood was a hoity-toity place where  Jags and Mercedes were stolen, not exactly a source of violent crime.  But our sergeant lowered his voice.

"There've been two overdoses in the last month," he said. "Two kids at  the local high school. It's been kept hush-hush because people are so  protective of their property prices that they don't want anything to  sully their image. But evidently there's a lot of drug use going on and  the kids are getting it somewhere," he continued. "The parents want us  to bust the ring."

Okay, well maybe if the parents were around more there would be less  drug use. But it wasn't my place to say. "Sarge," I drawled gamely,  "what do we know so far?"

"Unfortunately not a lot at this point," he replied. "Victim one was  Brian Adams, on the football team, seventeen, early admission to  Harvard. Comes from a so-called nice family except his parents are never  around, always raising money for some charity or other," the Sarge  snorted. "Victim two was Tyler Needham, also on the football team,  recruited to play football at Cal although he obviously won't be there  this fall."

I digested this information. "So do Bryan and I need to try out for the  football team to get the down low on these suckers?" I asked. My brother  and I were athletic and agile, plus we'd played football before. Street  ball for sure, but it was enough for some high school rinky-dink sports  program.         

     



 

"Nah, the season's over, but you've got to get in with the right crew of  kids. This isn't the stoner crowd, Brian and Tyler were athletes, kids  with good grades from nice families. Somehow they got their hands on  cocaine and heroin, not just the usual soft stuff. Hey, if they've got  the money to pay for it, there's not much stopping them," said the  sergeant dryly.

And I could see his point. Bryan, the Sarge and I are working class, our  parents are schoolteachers, firefighters, people who are comfortable  but hardly living the high life. It was only too ironic that kids who'd  been given everything on a silver plate were shooting themselves in the  foot  …  or in the arm in this case.

So my twin and I had packed up our stuff, moving into a trailer on the  edges of St. Francis Wood. I guess SFPD could have found a "foster  family" for us or other some bullshit, but it was just easier to paint a  story as two twin boys who'd moved to town because of a troubled past.  Our "uncle" would be the Sergeant, although he didn't live with us.

And now our first lead had appeared  …  and Callie had given it to us  inadvertently. The party promised to be fruitful, a bunch of rich kids  on a Friday night, loosening up, letting it all hang out. As we prepped,  Bryan and I talked it over.

"I'll take Callie, you take Chrissy, see where it leads us," I'd suggested nonchalantly.

No such luck. "Yeah, whatever," grinned my twin. "No way I'm passing up the brunette."

And it was to be expected -- both of us had liked the curvy girl on  sight. Okay, more than liked, more like very, very intrigued. Callie was  exactly up our alley with curly brown hair, big brown eyes and a figure  shaped like a sensuous S. Big boobs, a tiny waist and luscious,  swinging hips. I'd never developed a taste for skinny anorexics, and  neither had my brother.

"Fine," I said gamely. "We'll play it by ear, see what develops. No sense in tying ourselves to some rigid plan."

"You got it, brother," drawled Bryan. He's always been easygoing, it's  part of his charm, girls love that laid-back vibe and handsome mug. But I  knew that as soon as we saw Callie, we'd both be on her like white on  rice  …  agreement or not.





CHAPTER FOUR


Callie




The music was pounding, people standing by the pool with drinks in their hands.

"Where you'd get the beer?" I asked Chrissy.

"Oh my sister, she picked up some stuff at the local bodega," she  replied distractedly, looking around. Of course the local bodega in St.  Francis Wood was a high-end liquor shop, but Chrissy's family could  afford it.

"Is Valerie actually here?" I asked curiously, also peering into the  mass of writhing bodies. Chrissy's older sister was notorious  –  rumor  had it she'd gotten pregnant by some older guy a couple years back,  causing her to drop out of high school. But St. Francis Wood was full of  rumors  …  and I'd never had a glimpse of the so-called baby although I'd  visited the Gordons many times.

But my friend had other things on her mind. "You did invite them, didn't you?" she asked, frowning. "Did you remind them?"

I sighed. The them in the sentence was all too obvious. "Of course I  did, Blake texted me for the address to your place just this morning," I  confirmed.

"Oooh, you got his number?" she squealed. "Cool, give it to me, I want to make sure they're coming."

"Umm, let's just wait a bit, okay?" I hedged. I didn't want to seem too  desperate, nor did I want to be giving out phone numbers like candy.  "Let's hang tight and see if they show in the next fifteen."

"God I hope so," said Chrissy, blowing air impatiently. "I got my hair  and make-up professionally done, those twins better appreciate it!" she  said emphatically.

And my friend did look good. Her blonde hair was in loose, silky waves,  like a Victoria's Secret model, and her make-up was flawless with ruby  red lips and dramatic violet eye shadow. I, on the other hand, was a  mouse by comparison. There was no professional help for me but I'd  brushed my hair as best I could, the ringlets glossy and defined, and  applied some blush and eyeliner to highlight my features. I was round,  compared to Chrissy's thin figure, but there was nothing to be done  about that.         

     



 

"Oooh, there they are!" she squealed, spying Blake and Bryan. "Come on,  let's go!" she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me over.

I tripped over myself as I followed in high heels. This was a pool party, but Chrissy had been adamant about looking sexy.