CHAPTER 30 JESSALYN
JESSALYN
There was an “Out of Order” sign on the intercom outside Sophy’s apartment, and the door was propped open, so I hurried up the stairs. A guy in jeans and a leather jacket was jogging right down the middle, and he didn’t move over. Jerk. I flattened myself against the wall to let him pass.
Alexa had assured me that Sophy was home again today, but she didn’t answer when I knocked. How did Alexa know where she was? Was she tracking Sophy’s phone? Because that was creepy, and was it even legal?
“Hi,” I called. “Are you home?”
“Who is it?”
So she was there.
“It’s Jessalyn Morrow.”
I’d decided to drop the “Packer.” It was one more reminder of Ridge that I didn’t need.
“Is Justin with you?”
“No, he stayed home today.”
Dawson had driven me to the apartment building, but since Sophy didn’t know him, he’d gone to put up more posters instead of hovering behind me in the apartment. She opened the door an inch, and it caught on the chain.
“Is he gone?”
“Is who gone?”
“Whoever was in the hallway.”
“There’s nobody here but me.”
She closed the door, removed the chain, and finally widened the gap enough for me to step inside.
“I’m not even sure we should be speaking.”
“We’re all just doing our best to find Amie. What’s worrying you?”
Because something clearly was. The chain on the door, the way she was gripping her phone so hard her knuckles were white.
“I feel sick. The police came here again, and they kept asking about the baby. Do I know who the father is? Brett said it wasn’t him, so could it be Justin?”
“Wait, they think Justin is the father?”
“They didn’t come right out and say it, but for sure that’s what they’re thinking. And I kept telling them that I don’t freaking know. Amie didn’t even tell me she was pregnant.”
“I don’t think Justin and Amie have that kind of relationship.”
“Neither did I, but who knows?” Sophy shrugged and sagged onto the arm of a chair.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
Amie said Saige was messing around again, but she made it sound like no big deal, and then some guy shows up yesterday and says she owes him money.
That if she doesn’t pay, he’ll take her belongings to cover the debt.
But she isn’t here, and the police told me not to touch her room, so what am I supposed to do? ”
“Take her belongings? Is that even allowed?”
Another shrug. “I think he was here again this morning.”
“Is that why you used the chain?”
She nodded. “We need one of those peepholes.”
“Justin runs a building company—I’ll ask if he could fit one.”
“The police told me I shouldn’t speak with Justin.”
Her words chilled me to the bone. They really had him under suspicion?
Why? Didn’t they believe me when I said he was home the evening Amie disappeared?
If Amie had come to harm, then somebody else was responsible.
I thought of the big man who’d nearly flattened me as I climbed the stairs. Could he be involved?
“Was the man looking for money muscly with blond hair?” I closed my eyes, trying to recall his face. “And a scar on his left cheek?”
“You saw him?”
“He was leaving as I arrived.”
Sophy shuddered. “I’m never answering the door again.”
“Did he give you any paperwork?”
“No, nothing. He just scared the crap out of me.”
“This is such a freaking mess,” I said. My whole damn life was a disaster.
“Tell me about it. Did you see Saige’s post on BuzzHub?”
I hadn’t looked at my socials since I uploaded the cake video.
A part of me wanted to take the post down, but I needed to show Saylor I was okay.
And what was the point in deleting it? It was a new account.
The video probably had two likes plus a laughing emoji from Saylor, and maybe, just maybe, Ridge had seen the caption and had an apoplexy.
“I haven’t seen anything from Saige.”
“Amie’s the one who’s missing, but somehow, Saige makes it all about her. She never changes.”
“You’ve met her?”
“A couple of times. Amie mostly tries to avoid family get-togethers, but sometimes they come to visit.”
“How did you and Amie meet?”
“Craigslist. I placed an ad after my last roommate moved to Montana.” Well, at least Craigslist had worked out in one instance.
“Saige ruined Amie’s credit score right as she finished college, and I agreed to let her move in without a deposit.
I guess we were both desperate. Saige will try to cash in on this—just you watch her. ”
Speaking of cash, I had to remember why I was here. “Before, you mentioned that Amie was receiving a hundred extra bucks a month.”
“From the murder guy’s family?”
“Do you know for sure that’s where it came from?”
“I mean, that’s what she told me. But she said there was something off about the guy.”
“And she never mentioned meeting him in person?”
Ari had already asked that question, but she’d told me to ask it again. She said it was harder to keep track of lies than to tell the truth, and she wanted to see if Sophy gave me the same answer.
“I don’t think so.”
“But she spoke with him on the phone?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did she say anything about an accent? European, for example?” Or Estonian? Ari had played me an example earlier, and it sounded sort of flat. Precise. “Russian? Germanic?”
“No, she never did, but if he wasn’t American, I think she would have said so. Because that would’ve been weird, wouldn’t it?”
“What information did he ask her for?”
“Like, whether Justin was talking about the case or any of the people involved. And some financial stuff? Maybe they were thinking of suing him? I hope Amie doesn’t get fired over this because she loves her job.”
“Justin only wants to find her and make sure she’s safe. If the man with the scar comes back, can you call me?”
“The police said—”
“They said you shouldn’t call Justin. I’m not Justin.”
“I guess,” she conceded, but I wasn’t confident she’d call. She was scared. We all were.
“And don’t let him in.”
“I won’t. I absolutely won’t.” She sniffed, and I fished the tissues out of my purse. “I just want this to be over.”
So did we all.
“Sophy wasn’t kidding about Saige’s crocodile tears.” Alexa rolled her eyes. “Fifteen thousand likes, twelve thousand comments, and you don’t want to know how many shares.”
We watched the full video, five minutes of sobbing with a link to a JustFundIt appeal in the comments to “help with the family’s expenses during this difficult time.” Folks had donated over three thousand bucks already.
“Ironic, considering she might have caused all this,” Dawson said.
“Ironic?” Violet was pacing the room. “More like infuriating. Should I post something on my socials? I have way more followers than she does.”
“No, because it’ll only draw more attention to the accusations.” Justin’s expression softened. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Earlier, Justin had called Saige to ask if she knew anything about the debt collector because if Sophy was right, then Saige was behind his visit.
But Saige had angrily denied all knowledge of the man and responded with a BuzzHub post that strongly suggested Justin was behind Amie’s disappearance.
Not strongly enough that Justin could sue her, Alexa said, but Norquist Construction’s server had crashed from the volume of nasty emails, and the company’s online reviews were tanking too.
This was so unfair. He was the one who’d reported Amie missing.
He was the only person who’d been looking for her from the start.
Shiro dropped a moccasin on my knee. He understood I was stressed, and he was trying to comfort me in the only way he knew how.
“Whose is this?”
“Alexa’s,” Dawson told me. “Can’t you tell by the size?”
Crap, there were teeth marks. “I’m so sorry. As soon as I have the money, I’ll replace them.”
Alexa didn’t answer, just kept on typing furiously.
“She doesn’t care about slippers,” Chase said, setting a mug of coffee in front of me. “I’ll buy her a new pair.”
Making the drinks was my job, but when I sat on the couch, Justin had tucked an arm around my shoulders, holding me in place as Chase took over.
Meeting Ridge’s friends had been awkward.
The men were real friendly, but the women would whisper among themselves and then fall silent when I came near, and some didn’t hide their looks of disgust. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have their polish.
My mom had worked three jobs so we could eat, and I’d only been to college because I landed a full ride.
Meeting Justin’s friends was a different kind of awkward.
Dawson had raised an eyebrow, but apart from that, everyone acted as if this monumental shift in our relationship were nothing unusual.
Tell that to my heart. It was beating in a wild staccato.
Violet checked her phone. “You’re still winning. Thirty-two thousand likes now.”
Saige’s post wasn’t the only thing that had gone viral in the last twenty-four hours. It seemed I’d underestimated how many people loved chocolate cake, and how many of my old fans also followed Saylor. BakeHub was going to bat for me.
“Good thing you’re dropping the Packer,” Dawson said, looking across at Violet’s screen. “There are a lot of Pecker memes being posted.”
Ridge had found the video too. He’d left a comment demanding I take it down, only to get pounced on by several thousand angry women.
At least one of them had found out where he lived because she’d snuck onto the driveway, spray-painted a limp penis on his Mercedes using whipped cream, and posted a photo.
“Oh dear,” I deadpanned.
“Uh-oh, he’s threatening to sue.” Violet scowled at her phone. “What a douche.”
“What would he sue for? Everything I posted is factual, and the discovery process would be wild.”