Flash Point Read Free Page B

sorry, I didn’t realize—”
    “Open up in there!” Pounding on the apartment door.
    Amy and Gran looked at each other. Gran said, “Don’t—” but Amy was already at the door, peering through the peephole. A cop stood gripping Kaylie by the arm.
    A trash can, slimy with something rotten at the bottom
 . . .
    “Open up!”
    Amy undid the chain and deadbolt. Kaylie cried, “Let me go, you fucker!” The cop dragged Amy’s sister inside.
    “You this girl’s guardian?”
    “Yes,” Amy said, even though she wasn’t. In the bedroom Gran tried to rise and couldn’t. “What happened?”
    “Shoplifting,” the cop said. His small, piggish eyes traveled around the apartment, taking in the shabbiness but also the teak dresser, which Gran had saved from before the Collapse, and the George III silver tea set that had been a wedding gift to her and Gramps sixty years ago. Not even Kaylie had suggested pawning that.
    Amy said, “Is Kaylie under arrest?”
    The cop met her gaze. He looked again at the silver, then pointedly back at Amy. “I might let her off with a warning. Depends.”
    “On what?” Amy said. Did he know her knees were trembling?
    “You wouldn’t want her in prison. Pretty little thing like her.”
    “She’s a juvenile.”
    “Them places are worse,” he said, and Amy knew he was right. Everybody heard the stories.
    Kaylie yelled, “If you don’t let me go, you fucker, I’ll—”
    “Shut up,” Amy told her. She went to Gran’s desk, took out the envelope with Mrs. Raduski’s rent, and handed it to him. “This is all we have.”
    He let go of Kaylie, who for once stopped yelling. Maybe even she realized what could happen—and wouldn’t it be nice if just once she had thought of that
before
? The cop opened the envelope, counted the money, and made a face. His eyes went again to the silver.
    “Please,” Amy said, “it really is all we have. It’s the rent.”
    Wordlessly he pocketed the envelope and turned to go. Probably he realized that the silver would be too easy to trace at any pawnshop.
Just don’t say anything, Kaylie, just for once shut up
—
    She did, at least until the door closed. Amy locked it and whirled on her sister. “How could you? Don’t you—”
    “I didn’t do it!” Kaylie cried reflexively. But a minute later she reached into the waistband of her jeans, smiled slyly, and produced a long piece of rich silk, which she carried into the bedroom. “Anyway, it’s for Gran. Look, Gran, what I brought you!”
    The scarf hadn’t been for Gran, not from Kaylie and not in that color. The green just matched Kaylie’s eyes, that clear and startling emerald that made such a contrast with her pale skin and black curls. Six inches taller than Amy’s five-two, Kaylie had the kind of figure that made men ride their bicycles into oncoming traffic. The sisters looked nothing alike, and next to her gorgeous, larcenous sister Amy usually felt washed out. Right now she just felt furious.
    “Kaylie, do you know what you’ve just done? The rent is due in three days!”
    “Oh, you’ll come up with something,” Kaylie said. “You always do. Saint Amy.”
    Amy wanted to kick her. Gran gazed at Kaylie with reproachful, helpless eyes. Amy pulled Kaylie and her silk scarf out of Gran’s room, closed the door, and pinned her sister against the peeling wall. “If you ever again dare to—”
    “Shut it off, Amy—you don’t own me!”
    “The rent—”
    “All right, all right! I’ll get the money by Friday!”
    That was worse.
The girl with the exposed breasts, the rabbit in the trap
— “How? How will you get it?”
    “That’s my business!”
    “No, it’s mine! If you think you’re going to—”
    Kaylie flexed both arms and threw Amy off her. Amy staggered against the table, righted herself, and prepared to lunge back, even while the rational part of her mind said
Don’t don’t don’t don’t do it
—
    She didn’t. Another pounding on the door