Chapter 40
I’m sixty percent sure Caleb slept in my bed last night. It’s hard to recall as I’m a fairly deep sleeper. But there was one point I distinctly remember the warmth of his smooth chest beneath my cheek and the gentle stroke of his thumb on my hip.
But when I awoke, there was no sign of his gorgeous muscles beneath my face. Only a drool spot on the white sheet under my chin. Depressing. And embarrassing.
So, again. Only sixty percent sure. Which I believe is still enough to bring it up. Who am I kidding, I was going to do that anyway.
But first, I need to talk to Leah. Since submerging my phone in rice for hours did not save it, I have to hope Leah still meets me at the cafe when she said she would.
I pick out my best undercover outfit. Black skinny jeans, a dark gray t-shirt, and sunglasses. Then I put my hair up in a ponytail and open the door. Quietly, since I know Caleb is in the room next door. I let the door close slowly, holding the handle down as I push it into place. I release the handle and wait, expecting Caleb to jump out at me, but he doesn’t.
The elevator is next to our rooms, so I turn the opposite way and sprint for the stairs. I hit the landing and run to the nearest exit. I glance behind me one last time. Caleb told me not to go anywhere without him, but he was referring to meeting Liam, right? Leah is innocent.
I punch the crosswalk button and head across the street.
The small cafe is brimming with people looking for their morning pick-me-up. I place an order for coffee and a cinnamon roll and snatch an empty table facing the door. Peering through the dark lenses of my sunglasses, I take note of every person who enters the cafe. My leg bounces beneath the table, both out of fear and excitement.
Am I about to solve this mystery?
Wait, what if she is the killer and tries to off me? Well, that’s why I picked a public place. Maybe I should have brought Caleb.
I spot Leah before she sees me. She’s so tall and beautiful. The perfect criminal. No one ever suspects the beautiful ones. Except her eyes are bloodshot and her skin is paler than the normal fake tan I know she religiously maintains.
She glances around the small shop before heading in my direction. “Amelia? Is that you?”
She totally didn’t even recognize me, that’s how good my cover is. Take that, Caleb.
“Leah.” I stand and hug her tight. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, my phone kind of died and since I’m not at home I didn’t have another way to contact you.”
“Of course, I had to come. I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?” she asks.
I sit down, turning in my seat so my attention is solely on her as she lowers her shaky body into the chair across from me.
“I’d be better if I hadn’t found a dead body.” I scoop a dollop of whipped cream from the top of my latte and plop it in my mouth. “By the way, you didn’t happen to do that, did you?”
I certainly could have eased into that better.
Leah’s face pales and she glances around. That’s a guilty look if I’ve ever seen one. “What are you talking about?” she hisses, sliding into the chair next to mine.
I scoot back a little further for personal space and, uh, safety reasons.
“You dated Justin,” I say, adding the piles of evidence to my rock-solid case, made entirely of pebbles.
She holds my gaze so long her confidence cracks and tears slip down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. I didn’t know he was your fiancé when I dated him. I only realized that two weeks ago when he called you at work. He went by Johnny when we were dating.”
I knew it.
“Is that why you killed him? Because he was lying to you?” I ask.
“No!” she yells, then clamps a hand over her mouth. She shakes her head, wiping tears off her cheeks. “A week before we broke up, I found out he had a fiancée. But when I confronted him about it, he said I didn’t understand. He didn’t have a choice.”
I jerk back. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. When I threatened to find his fiancée and tell her, he threatened me.” Her bottom lip trembles. “He said he was in debt to a dangerous man.”
“Liam Hawthorne?”
“He never told me a name.” Her watery blue eyes dart to mine and she grabs my hand that was in the middle of breaking apart my cinnamon roll. “I didn’t kill him. You have to believe me.”
“Then how did you know he was dead?”
She drops my hand and looks away. She grabs her bag, clutching the straps until her knuckles go white. “Because I found him first.”
“What?” I chuck the sunglasses off my face. They fly halfway across the room and land under a little old lady”s chair. I quickly glance down.
Leah leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “That day I saw his face on your phone, I felt so bad. I had no idea you were his fiancée and I was the other woman. I could barely look at you, I was afraid you’d see how awful I was.” She gulps, wiping at the angry red tear stains on her cheeks. For as beautiful as she is, she”s an ugly crier. It”s only fair.
“And then he wouldn’t stop bugging you.” She hiccups. ”I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I went to your apartment after work that day he stopped by and was a jerk. I had to come clean. I knocked on your door but it was already open and when I tapped it, it fell open more.” She swallows hard. “I took a step inside and then I saw him. In the tub. Dead.”
Tears run from her eyes like waterfalls now. “I was so scared I just ran. But twenty minutes later I’d convinced myself my mind was playing tricks on me, and he was just taking a bath or something with his clothes on. I was in shock. I thought maybe you had killed him, and I didn’t know what to do.”
Her too? Why does everyone keep assuming I’m capable of killing a man?
“It wasn’t until the next morning that I decided to call the cops,” Leah continues, “but by then the salon chat was already blowing up with a story that you had found a dead person. And then I wondered if maybe I could have saved him if I hadn’t gotten scared and ran.”
“Oh, Leah.” I grab her hand. “That must have been so scary for you.”
“For me?” She sniffs. “What about you? You found him too.”
“Yeah, but I hated him more.” I try to make light of the situation, but none of this is light.
Something”s not sitting right. Leah said she saw him from the front door, which was open, but when I found him the door was closed, and so was the shower curtain. So, either the killer came back, or he was still there when she was.
“Leah, did you see anyone in my apartment?”
She sniffs and wipes her nose with a napkin. “No. Why? Are you in danger?” Her hands tremble around the napkin.
Thisis how normal people react when they find a body. Not smiling during an interrogation. I don”t need to scare her any more than I already have.
I squeeze her hand, hoping to comfort her. “Don’t worry about me, I have an annoying FBI agent watching out for me.”
Her eyes flick to something over my shoulder. “Is it that pissed-off guy behind you?”
I cringe, sensing his very angry presence.
“That would be me.”