Double Dose

By Peter Nelson

When her childhood friend is accused of being a drug courier, the seventeen-year-old amateur sleuth travels to the scene to prove her friend’s innocence.
 
Mollie Fox has known Meredith Hughes since third grade. So when Meredith is busted for drug possession upon returning to San Francisco from a New York City fashion shoot, Mollie is certain her friend is being framed. Everyone else at Bayside High is convinced that Meredith is guilty simply because she’s wealthy, beautiful, and privileged enough to think she might get away with it. But you’re innocent until proven guilty, right? So when Meredith won’t defend herself, Mollie jets off to New York to investigate.
 
Mollie goes undercover in the glamorous world of high-fashion modeling, and discovers a dangerous network of drug dealers that uses models as couriers. But just when Mollie thinks she’s got this case figured out, she realizes that whoever set up Meredith won’t be satisfied until she’s dead. And he’s threatening to take down anyone who gets in his way—including Mollie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Media
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781504088954

Peter Nelson

Peter Nelson is a screenwriter who lives in Los Angeles, California, with his wife, Diane, and their two sons, Charlie and Christopher. Herbert's Wormhole was Peter's First children's book. He wrote it without ever having met an actual alien or traveling through time, which made it a bit more challenging, but just as fun.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I’d like to live up here, wouldn’t you? Roberta Baldwin pointed at a huge mansion. It looked more like a castle than someone’s home. I bet even the servants have servants.

Seventeen-year-old Mollie Fox smiled and shifted gears in her Jeep as they climbed the hill toward the area known in Bayside as The Heights. Only the very wealthy could afford to live there, with the view of San Francisco Bay right out their kitchen windows. Yeah, it’s nice, but imagine the clothes you’d have to wear. Corduroy pants, sweaters with those queer little flowery patterns around the neck—

Not me, Roberta said. If I was rich, I’d still be the fashion plate I am now—only I’d give my clothes away to poor folk like you after I’d worn them once.

Mollie laughed and looked at her friend. Roberta was thin, beautiful, and definitely had her own style. She often wore big sweaters over her multicolored leggings and cowboy boots. Today her dark skin and brown eyes stood out against an oversized red silk blouse.

Do you think Meredith will be home? Roberta asked.

Where else would she be? They pulled into Meredith Hughes’s driveway, and Mollie stopped the car.

I don’t know. Shopping? Cruising around in her Miata?

I doubt it, Mollie said. She’s probably trying to keep a low profile. Anyway, she can’t go too far—she’s out on bail, remember?

Meredith had been busted for carrying cocaine in her suitcase on a recent trip back from New York City. Mollie knew Meredith wasn’t a drug user, so the only explanation was that her friend had been set up. One question kept bugging her though: Why would anyone bother framing a high-school student?

Yeah, I know she’s out on bail, Roberta said. Hey, check it out—her father’s trying to get into politics.

Mollie looked at the front lawn, which sprawled down to Highland Drive. On it was a big blue sign that said DRAFT HUGHES. That’s not her father, that’s her uncle, Mollie said. Dayton Hughes. She parked the Jeep in front of the house and hopped out. People want him to run for governor. Pretty amazing, considering he’s never done anything for the public good before.

Not really—I mean, look at California’s most famous governor. Roberta got down from the Jeep, and she and Mollie went up to the front door. "The only experience Reagan had was acting in a bunch of B-movies. And he made it all the way to the White House."

Good point, Mollie said. Just as she was about to rap the large brass lion’s-head knocker against the door, it opened. Derek Hughes, Meredith’s father, stepped outside.

Hello, girls, he greeted them. What are you doing here? As usual, he was dressed in a navy blue suit with a red tie—typical boring lawyer fashion. And, of course, he was carrying a monogrammed leather briefcase.

Hi, Mr. Hughes. We came to see Meredith, Roberta said.

We thought she could use a friend or two, Mollie added.

Actually, I think it’s best if she doesn’t see anybody right now, Mr. Hughes said. She’s quite upset.

Maybe if we talked to her—

I don’t think so. Derek Hughes shook his head. Not today anyway. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get to the office. Why don’t you call Meredith tomorrow, after she’s had time to rest.

Rest from what? Mollie wondered. But since Derek Hughes was blocking the door, there was only one thing to do. Okay, Mr. Hughes. Thanks. Tell her we hope she’s feeling better about things, Mollie said.

Roberta gave Mollie an are-you-crazy look, but she followed Mollie to the Jeep. They got in and backed out of the driveway. I don’t feel right, not seeing Meredith, Roberta finally said.

Don’t worry, Mollie assured her as she flipped the radio dial.

"What do you mean, don’t worry? Meredith was arrested yesterday. She might have to do time in one of those juvenile places where the girls have huge muscles and box for entertainment. You know she wouldn’t last long there."

Mollie laughed. Chill already, we’re not abandoning her. She turned left onto Highland Drive. Then she made a U-turn and parked the Jeep alongside the right side of the road, under some trees that shaded the car from view.

I get it, Roberta said. When Hughes leaves, we go back.

Mollie nodded. There’s no way we’re not going to see her today. I mean, if we found a way to get out of a collapsed mall after an earthquake, we can figure out how to get in to see Meredith.

Mollie had moved to Bayside only about a year ago, but already she had a close group of friends—unofficially dubbed the Mall Rats—because they’d been trapped underground when a big earthquake hit. They’d dug out just in time to hear their eulogies. Then they’d sworn revenge on the sleazy boss who had left them to die. In the aftermath a tight bond between the seven teenagers had been formed. Mollie would do anything for any of them, and she knew it went both ways.

A few minutes later, a midnight blue Mercedes sedan pulled out of the driveway, turned right, and headed off down the road. Check it out, his car matches his suit, Roberta commented as Mollie backed out toward the Hughes’s mansion. Hey, what about her mother? She might be home.

Mollie shook her head. Mrs. Hughes is in Hawaii for a month. Meredith told me her parents can’t stand each other. They parked, and Mollie killed the engine and pocketed the keys. Just to be safe, let’s go around to the back. Meredith spends a lot of time by the pool.

Can you imagine having your own pool? Roberta asked.

No, Mollie said frankly. My little sister Rosemary has a pretty cool wading pool, though. It’s pink plastic.

Nice, Roberta said. You’ll have to invite me over for a dip.

In back of the house was a kidney-shaped pool with turquoise and pink tiles, surrounded by a high wooden fence. Mollie unlatched the gate, and they walked in. See, I told you she would be out here. She pointed to a girl with long chestnut brown hair, sitting in a lounge chair, with one leg dangling in the water.

Meredith! Roberta called.

The girl looked over at them and slid her sunglasses down her nose. She didn’t acknowledge them with a wave.

Mollie and Roberta walked closer. That’s not a girl, that’s a woman, Mollie whispered. She’s at least thirty-five.

You’re not Meredith, Roberta said to the woman.

Thank God. My name’s Rahel. Can I help you girls with something?

We’re here to see Meredith. We go to school with her, and we, uh, brought an assignment for her. It’s really important, so the teacher wanted to make sure she got it today, Mollie said.

She’s inside, Rahel replied.

Are you her cousin or something? Roberta asked.

Rahel rolled her eyes. No. I’m one of her father’s clients. I’m a model. Derek handles my money.

I wonder if that’s all he handles, Mollie thought, looking Rahel over. She was absolutely gorgeous, and since Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were practically separated, anything was possible. So you’re just here hanging out? Mollie asked.

Actually, I’m living down at the guest house for a while, Rahel said.

Mollie nodded. Well, I guess we’ll go find Meredith.

Go ahead, but she’s not in a very good mood, Rahel warned. She slipped her sunglasses back on and tipped her face up to the sky.

Doesn’t she know the sun will shrivel her up and kill her modeling career? Roberta commented as they stepped through a sliding glass door into the Hughes’s spacious living room.

Probably not. Anyway, I hear the alligator-skin look is really hot in Paris this year.

Who’s there? a voice called out.

Us, Mollie and Roberta.

Meredith walked out of the kitchen, carrying a can of diet soda in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Hi. Did you guys come in the back or something?

Mollie nodded.

Why?

Never mind, Mollie said. We just wanted to see how you’re doing.

Meredith sank into a big black leather chair by the fireplace. I’m fine. She took a chip out of the bag and crunched it in her mouth.

What happened? Mollie asked.

Meredith stared at the floor and shoved another chip into her mouth.

If you’re fine, then I’m white, Roberta said, sitting down next to Meredith. Say, I’ve never seen you eat junk food like this in your entire life. You’ve got to be in trouble.

Meredith sighed. I am.

"So what happened?" Mollie asked again. We know you’re not a cokehead, so somebody must have been trying to get you busted.

Yeah, and it obviously worked, Roberta added. Now if you don’t tell us what happened, we can’t help you prove you didn’t have anything to do with that nose candy in your bag.

Meredith was chewing her thumbnail. Okay, I’ll tell you. But I don’t want you guys to think you have to save me. I mean, my dad’s a really good lawyer, and I’m sure he’ll get the charges dropped.

Mollie wasn’t so sure. Her father was a detective on the Bayside police force, and she knew they were trying to crack down on drug users and dealers. They didn’t just let people go, not without incredibly airtight proof.

Why were you in New York City in the first place? Roberta asked.

"Remember that photo shoot I told you about, for Femme magazine? Meredith said. Hold on a second. I want to make sure no one else is around. She stood up and left the room. Do you guys want something to drink?" she asked from the kitchen.

Quit stalling! Mollie said.

And don’t leave anything out, Roberta added.

I was just trying to be polite, Meredith said, coming back and sitting again. Okay, so I was in New York to do this photo shoot with my sister, for this article called ‘Splendiferous Sisters.’

Splendiferous? Roberta looked at Mollie and raised her eyebrows.

Meredith shrugged. Don’t ask me, I didn’t make it up. The shoot was booked through the Whistler Modeling Agency in San Francisco—my sister works for their New York office. I stayed at her place for a couple of days, but I hardly ever saw her. Hilary was always either working, or else going out to clubs. It’s ridiculous how many people she knows.

So what did you do the whole time you were there? asked Roberta.

Shopped, ate out, went to some shows. Meredith shrugged. The usual.

So you didn’t meet anybody who might be the slightest bit suspicious? Mollie asked.

No, not at all. I met a whole bunch of people for the magazine shoot, but it’s not like they would have a reason to plant drugs on me.

Who would? Mollie wondered aloud.

Meredith shrugged. I have no idea.

So tell us what went on at the airport, Roberta prodded.

Meredith sipped her soda and readjusted her body in the chair so that her long legs were hanging over the armrest. All the sisters who came in from out of town for this shoot left at the same time. They picked us up from the magazine office to go to the airport, so they wouldn’t have to spend the money on cab fare. They were really cheap, you know? Like one day for lunch, on the shoot, we had American-cheese sandwiches on white bread. They didn’t even have mayonnaise or mustard on them. Anyway, so we got into this white BMW limo, which was really cool—

You got a limo ride to the airport, and you think they were cheap? Roberta interrupted. I’d like to be that cheap.

"So they dropped us off, we checked our bags, and then I got on the plane. I was the only one flying back to San Francisco. I watched a really boring movie on the plane, then I got off when it landed and went to pick up my suitcase. There were all these policemen at the baggage claim, and I was wondering if there was a bomb threat or something, and then they came up to me." Meredith shook her head. When my bag came out, they grabbed it, opened it, and there was one of those Ziploc baggies filled with coke inside a tin of tea I bought before I left. I was totally shocked.

What do you mean, a tin of tea? Mollie asked.

I bought some tea at this specialty shop near Hilary’s apartment called Bridgton Imports. It’s my mother’s favorite kind—Ceylonese Oolong, Meredith explained.

And you have no idea how a bag of cocaine got in that tin, Mollie said. Was anyone at the store acting strangely?

Meredith shook her head. No.

Was your bag out of your sight at the shoot? Roberta asked.

I don’t know, Meredith said. I guess so.

Then it was in the trunk of the limo, then the airplane, Mollie said. No one weird came up to you at the airport, did they?

Just some guy who asked me to go to the airport bar for a drink, Meredith said.

Did you tell him you were sixteen? Roberta asked.

Meredith nodded, then laughed. He ran away real fast.

What about Hilary? Mollie asked. Do the two of you get along very well?

We’re not best friends or anything. Meredith hesitated. Why, do you think she had anything to do with it?

"Do your?" Mollie replied.

No. For one thing, she’s not smart enough to pull it off, Meredith said. That sounds pretty harsh, doesn’t it?

Not if it’s the truth, Roberta said. Believe me, I have three sisters, and we don’t all get along.

I like Hilary, it’s just … sometimes she makes me feel like I’m a loser. Nothing I do is ever good enough. Meredith leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

But she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Mollie said. At least you’re pretty sure she wouldn’t.

Meredith nodded.

I hate to ask this, but—it wasn’t your coke, was it?

Roberta! Mollie said.

Don’t worry about it, Meredith said. "I’ve never even gotten