Page 17 of By the Time You Read This (Raisa Susanto #3)

Chapter Twelve

Delaney

Day Four

Delaney didn’t throw the napkin with Maeve’s number away, though she wasn’t sure why she didn’t. Maybe because she knew someone was hunting her, and what better way than to pretend you’re new to town and want to chat up a friendly face?

Or a not-so-friendly face, in Delaney’s case.

Maybe Maeve had been exactly who she’d said she was. Delaney kept the phone number just in case.

Then she put the woman out of her mind. She found a motel on the road leading into Gig Harbor, the kind where the o and the a on the No Vacancy sign had burned out long ago and would never be replaced. The kidney-shaped pool was empty except for a dirty mattress at the bottom, and her room smelled of cigarettes and Fritos.

It was perfect.

Delaney tried to wash off the thin layer of sweat that had broken out on her skin hours ago, but the weak excuse of a shower failed her miserably.

She somehow felt worse when she got out, but she shoved her legs into black jeans that cut into her hip bones anyway. They weren’t her style, but she’d picked them up at a Goodwill a while back for one purpose. She paired them with a slinky top that clung to her nipples and boots with enough of a heel to change her gait.

The one remaining piece was a neon-pink wig cut into a sharply angled bob. It reminded her of Isabel’s preferred look—the one she’d used as Jenna, an overeager podcaster with an ambitious heart and the wardrobe of a much younger woman.

She stared in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself.

Delaney Moore dressed in Earth Mother tones and styles and had long, mud-colored hair she wore in a braid.

This was Lana Parker, coming out to join the fun.

They were so easy to find, the girls.

Delaney looked at them and saw all the ways they yearned. For better men, for better lives, for a better-tasting drink.

They weren’t recognizable as a mirror to herself, to Isabel or Raisa. None of them had been girls who yearned. They hunted and were hunted, they lived with the scraps they were given instead of asking for more.

But she had a fondness for the yearners nonetheless.

They were recognizable as at least human, unlike the monsters Delaney so often encountered spending most of her time on the dark web.

Let’s play a game . . .

There was a bonfire on the ocean, and it drew Delaney, a moth to the proverbial flame. In the dark, she almost fit in.

Stand in your enemy’s shadow.

Someone shifted out of the darkness beside her. A girl. She huffed out an annoyed breath. “No one has cigarettes anymore.”

“They’re the leading cause of preventable disease and death in the United States,” Delaney said, because she could look the part, but she’d never been able to act it.

She wasn’t Isabel. She wasn’t even Lana. She was Delaney Moore, and she had never been cool a day in her life.

The girl who’d sidled up next to her, a red Solo cup in one hand and a vape pen in the other, laughed. She had a bright, pretty smile, even though one canine was crooked. Her eyes were wide pools in the moonlight.

And she was just who Delaney had been looking for.

Because if she was going to get chased to Gig Harbor, she might as well take advantage of it.

“I mean, the superbugs or the wildfires or the mass shootings are probably gonna get us before I have to worry about hardened arteries,” the girl said. “But you make a good point.”

When Delaney didn’t say anything, the girl held out her hand. “Gabriela. But everyone calls me Gabbi.”

They watched the crowd of people on the beach for a while, before Gabbi tried conversation one more time.

“Do I know you from Intro to Calculus?” Gabbi asked.

Delaney nearly barked out a laugh. She could have taught Intro to Calculus when she was eleven.

“No, you don’t,” Delaney said. “I don’t go to the college. I’m ... doing a favor for a friend.”

“A favor,” Gabbi repeated, tossing her vape pen in the air. “What kind of favor involves looking hot and partying with a bunch of twentysomethings?”

Delaney hadn’t just wandered onto this beach, mysterious though she might want to think herself in her own head. She’d gotten herself invited into a social forum for the local community college, because she had been playing this game for six months and had already done tons of prep work. This event was open to anyone in the group, so she knew Gabbi wouldn’t be suspicious that a stranger had wandered onto this stretch of beach.

“My friend’s daughter is here,” Delaney said, gesturing toward a gaggle of young women. If Gabbi knew them, Delaney would just say she’d been pointing elsewhere. “It’s her first party, she’s underage. I just want to keep an eye on her without it being a big deal.”

Gabbi side-eyed her, probably justifiably so. It was a strange excuse, but it would soon launch the very conversation Delaney wanted to have.

“I can’t tell if that’s sweet or creepy,” Gabbi said. Delaney found her honesty refreshing. Too many people would have smiled politely and edged away from Delaney posthaste.

Delaney shrugged one shoulder. “It’s tough out there for girls these days.”

A pause. “These days? Try at any point in history.”

Gabbi wasn’t wrong.

“It seems like a good group here,” Delaney said, her eyes locked on a group of boys, one of whom had a girl tossed over his shoulder. Everyone, including the girl, was laughing.

Girls sometimes laughed because they didn’t want to be killed.

But this one seemed to genuinely be enjoying herself.

“We all kind of watch out for each other,” Gabbi said, and then showed Delaney her cup. “Just water. A group of us take turns, a designated driver without the driving part. To make sure everyone gets home okay.”

And this was where Delaney had wanted to go. “Do you ever have problems?”

“Sometimes.”

“Anyone I should keep my eye out for?” Delaney asked.

“Benny Thompson,” Gabbi said without missing a beat. She jerked her chin toward a tall guy at the edge of the revelers, watching the party with a greedy expression. He slouched, in a way that was both unattractive and betrayed a lack of confidence. “And Brad.”

This time Gabbi pointed to Benny’s opposite, a handsome kid surrounded by admirers. His jaw would make the incels Delaney waded through on the daily weep with jealousy. A dimple winked to life every time he smiled, and the crowd around him jockeyed for space at his side.

As Delaney and Gabbi watched, Brad made eye contact with Benny.

They work together, Delaney thought, right before Gabbi said it.

“They work together.”

“Smart,” Delaney murmured.

Gabbi’s startled silence was louder than anything she could have said.

That had been a slip on Delaney’s part. A normal person wouldn’t have said that.

A normal person would have asked if they should call the cops.

“I mean, why hasn’t anyone done something about them?”

Brad No-Last-Name bent down to whisper in one of the girl’s ears. She laughed up at him, swatting his bicep.

The two of them broke off from the larger group, heading toward the tree line.

Benny watched them.

Then he put his beer bottle down into the sand and followed.

“We have to do something,” Delaney said, mostly to herself.

Gabbi blew a ring of smoke into the air, her head tipped back, her face bathed in starlight.

“You think I haven’t tried?”