Page 39 of The B-Team

“Rest it on the platform behind you,” Megan said, beginning to regret this idea. “Or put it in your pocket.”

“This is stupid.” Violet shoved her hand deep into her pocket, making her shoulders hunch; then she lowered her head, looked up at Megan, and twirled her hair.

Dear heavens above, it was that girl from the horror movie who climbed out of the TV.

Megan shuddered. “Try smiling.”

That made it worse.

“Okay, new plan. Sit back on the platform and look happy, like you’re really pleased to see whoever walks through the door.”

“This isn’t working.” Violet stomped around and jumped back up onto the platform.

“Sure it is. We just need to make it feel natural.”

Violet sat ramrod straight, the way she’d been before.

“Perfect,” Megan lied. “Now smile.”

Violet smiled. It wasn’t what anyone could call natural, but at least she didn’t look like she was about to kill someone.

“Great. We’ll go with that. Now, all you have to do is say what I tell you to say.” Megan went to sit beside her. “When the guy comes in and asks if we need anything, you say, with a smile, ‘How about some company? It’s getting pretty boring in here, and I’d love to hear about you.’” She nodded encouragingly at Violet.

“How about some company?” Violet sounded like she was asking someone to give her a colonoscopy. “It’s boring, and we’d love to hear about you.”

Megan lost the will to live.

“How was that?” Violet seemed unsure of herself, something Megan had never witnessed before.

Suddenly, theViolentlyshe knew and loved was gone, only to be replaced by a needy little puppy. Megan wasn’t heartless. There was no way she could give that pitiful face negative feedback.

“Well done,” Megan said with all the fake enthusiasm she could muster. “Now you say, ‘So, how long have you been working for the commander?’ And, from there, you prod him for more information. Got it?”

Violet scowled. “It isn’t exactly rocket science.”

And yet…

Megan looked skyward, praying for help to keep her mouth shut.

There was a noise, and the door swung open. The young constable who’d shown them into the cell stood in the doorway. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, Violet beat him to it.

“The company is boring,” she said, obviously trying to sound husky but instead sounding like she needed to clear her throat. “Come in and tell us all about the commander. And you.”

Megan watched in fascinated horror as Violet maniacally twisted her hair while sticking out her lips in a way that suggested a trumpet should be attached to them. It was all going horribly wrong.

And then Violet decided to improvise.

She leaned one hand on the platform beside her, swung her legs up to the side and under her, and placed her other hand on her hip in what, Megan assumed, was supposed to be a seductive pose. It was like watching a seal try to get comfortable on a rock.

The cop’s jaw dropped, and he eyed the corridor behind him, as though preparing to run.

That’s when Violet tossed back her head, presumably in an attempt to flip her hair. The movement shifted her balance, and her hand slipped off the edge of the platform. She let out a startled yelp and toppled headfirst to the floor. There was a sickening thud right before she bellowed, “Son of a bitch!”

Megan jumped down to crouch beside her. Yep, there was blood. She looked up at the stupefied cop. “Might be a good idea to fetch the nurse.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He backed up at the speed of light and slammed the door behind him.

“I hate flirting,” Violet said with menace as she clutched her bleeding nose.