Promise You Won't Tell? (A Dani Ripper Novel Book 2)
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“I think something might have happened to me Saturday night. Something bad.”
Private Investigator Dani Ripper’s client list is nuttier than the Looney Tunes conga line, but she diligently solves one crazy case after another, waiting for a game-changer.
Enter Riley Freeman, 17-year-old honor student.
Saturday afternoon Riley quietly placed a little strawberry sticker on her private area and pretended it was a tattoo. She didn’t tell anyone about it. That night she went to a slumber party that featured drinking and boys. Riley fell asleep, woke up the next day with no reason to think anything happened…
…Until Monday, at school, when a classmate called her Strawberry.
Coincidence or crime? Dani agrees to investigate. And the roller coaster ride begins.
Said she kept telling them she loved them, and wanted to have a threesome. He said she took off her clothes, then passed out again. Ethan and Ronnie didn’t say anything about it at the party, but later, in the car, they told everyone she had a sticker on her…um…” “Private area?” “Yeah. A strawberry. So that was going to be her new nickname.” “That story’s bullshit, Rick.” “Are you going to tell the police?” “Not yet. I need more evidence of a crime.” I think a minute, then say, “Rick?”
the sleep from my eyes. “What?” “I got a beep on my tracking program.” “At two in the morning?” “It’s Jana Bagger.” “What about her?” “Her car just stopped at Fourteen Twenty-Six Riverside.” “Why does that address sound familiar?” “It’s her husband’s other house. The one he shares with Darcie Darden.” “Shit!” “Should I call the cops?” “No.” “Because?” “Because what if she kills someone and they find the tracking device you put in her car?” “That would be bad, I suppose.” “Really? Ya
pictures. Slander is oral defamation.” “Spoken like a true layman” “But generally true?” “Here’s a better question,” he says. “Are you prepared to defend yourself in court for defaming the Underhills?” “I haven’t defamed anyone, yet. Certainly not the Underhills.” “Guess again.” “I’ve got a girl who says something may have happened to her. I’m trying to find out if it’s true.” “So your client is Riley Freeman? A minor?” “Is there a law against it?” “Probably. I’ll have to check. More
scholarship. I’d never be able to get into a decent college. Even if I got the evidence you need, it wouldn’t be worth getting expelled.” “Dillon and I can do it,” I say. “If you can give us the locker numbers.” “All ten?” “Just Ethan and Ronnie’s.” “I can tell you right now. Mine is sixty-one. Ethan’s is four past mine, number sixty-five. Ronnie’s is the next one, sixty-six.” Dillon says, “Can you draw me a map of the hallways so I can get in and out quickly?” “Sure.” I give her a pen and
think about it, every setback we’ve faced bothered me more than her. “You may be seventeen,” I say, “but you’re the most together person I’ve ever met. At any age.” She smiles. “I’m a duck.” I give her a curious look. “Care to elaborate?” “When you see a duck in a pond, the part you see is peaceful, quiet, and serene. But under the surface, his legs are kicking away, churning water. That’s me.” “Well, I’m impressed.” “Thanks,” she says. She looks at me, expectantly. I say, “Okay. The