Chapter Thirteen #2
“You bet your ass she is.” Nicki gestured with both hands so dramatically, Olivia worried she’d toss her phone into the back seat.
“Locally, she’s Zoe’s main competitor. She disses Zoe’s podcast on her own all the time.
” Nicki stopped Kermit-flailing to stare at her phone.
“I didn’t recognize her without all the makeup and tarantula-leg eyelashes.
” She wriggled her fingertips in front of her eye for effect.
“She must use mega filters on every picture she posts.”
Olivia stopped at a red light. “Let me see.”
Nicki tilted her phone so Olivia could view the screen. The blond woman in the photo barely resembled the one who had just met with Wendy. “Wow. I want her makeup artist.”
“Right?” Nicki shook the phone. “Those cheekbones are an optical illusion.”
The light turned green, and Olivia continued forward. “Why would Wendy be handing over a file about the Evan Brown murder?”
“Maybe that’s the next one Zoe planned to use for her podcast. Maybe Melissa wants to steal Zoe’s content.”
“I thought the Jennifer Hamilton case was Zoe’s next subject,” Olivia said.
“Who told you that?”
Olivia sighed. “Wendy.”
Nicki snorted. “The last time I talked to Zoe, she hadn’t made a decision yet.”
“So Wendy could have lied to throw me off.”
“Yep.” Nicki tapped an absent finger on her leg. “Maybe Melissa paid her to steal Zoe’s research.”
“When I talked to her, she seemed worried that she wouldn’t make the target revenue goals required for her bonus. Maybe she decided to diversify her income.”
Nicki added, “Or she was thinking about going to work for Melissa and taking Zoe’s ideas with her.”
“I’ll have to talk to Wendy again.” Olivia’s phone buzzed. Her car announced the call was from Lincoln. She answered. “Hi. You’re on speakerphone. Nicki’s in the car.”
“Hey, Sharp,” Nicki said, reminding Olivia once again that she was the only person to call him by his first name.
“Hey, Nicki,” Lincoln replied. “Liv, I’m on my way to your place. Can I pick up dinner?”
Nicki replied before Olivia had a chance. “Where are you stopping?”
“What do you want?” Lincoln asked.
“Pizza?” Nicki asked in a hopeful tone.
“Liv,” Lincoln asked, “is pizza OK with you?”
“Sure,” she said. “Do you need our orders?”
Lincoln laughed. “I know what you both want. Meet you at home.” He ended the call.
“I like that he remembers my order,” Nicki said. “He’s a keeper.”
“He is.”
“When are you guys going to move in together?”
“I don’t know.”
Officially, Lincoln still lived in the apartment over the offices of Sharp Investigations, but it gave her a warm and squishy feeling in the center of her chest when he called her house home. Maybe she’d be ready to take the next step in their relationship soon.
“Don’t you two spend most nights together anyway?” Nicki asked.
“We do.” Olivia didn’t want to admit she feared she would become dependent on him. It felt . . . silly? So she kept her response light. “Give us time. We’re old and set in our ways.”
“You’re not that old.”
“Gee, thanks.” Olivia turned in to her driveway ten minutes later. She parked in the garage and plugged in her car. Nicki bounded into the house ahead of her. By the time Olivia joined her, Nicki had helped herself to a lime-flavored sparkling water.
Olivia set her purse on the counter and washed her hands.
“I’ll get some lettuce for a salad.” She went out back into her vegetable garden.
They hadn’t yet had a hard frost. In addition to some straggly greens, one of her tomato plants was hanging on.
She collected two tomatoes, small but ripe, and clipped a basketful of arugula and fresh basil.
She brought the veggies inside and washed them while Nicki took plates from the cabinet.
The front door opened, and Lincoln came in, carrying two pizza boxes with a paper take-out bag balanced on top. He walked into the kitchen, set down the food, and kissed Olivia.
Nicki pounced on the food. She transferred two slices of sausage-and-mushroom pie to her plate and inhaled dramatically. “You’re the best, Sharp.”
“Hello to you too.” Lincoln laughed. He handed her the bag. “The fries are for you.”
“Salad?” Olivia asked Nicki.
Nicki made a face. “No, thanks.”
She never accepted, but Olivia would keep trying.
Nicki loved food but still had the palate of a teenager.
Olivia set two salad bowls on the island.
Lincoln slid slices of the veggie lovers special, light on the cheese, onto their plates.
Sitting at the island, he reached into his pocket and set the flash drive from Zoe’s office on the countertop. “Jenny Kruger bypassed the password.”
Olivia took a bite of salad. “Did she say what was on the drive?”
“It sounded like more research on true crime cases,” Lincoln said.
Disappointment filled Olivia. “I was hoping for a clear lead.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Go through the files. I might be wrong,” Lincoln said, but he rarely was.
“Thank you, anyway.” Olivia got up and fetched her laptop. Setting it next to her plate, she inserted the flash drive.
“You’re welcome.” Lincoln finished his salad and moved on to his pizza.
Nicki returned to the box for two more slices.
“Are you staying over?” Lincoln asked Nicki.
“No.” She sat back down. “I have to go after dinner. I have a date tonight.”
“A date?” Olivia ripped her attention away from her computer, which was chugging away trying to load the contents of the flash drive. “Is this the same individual from your coffee?”
“No.” She didn’t elaborate, but the word sounded very final.
“Someone new, then?” Olivia asked.
Nicki flushed, which never happened. “I met this guy on an app.”
Olivia nodded but didn’t respond. She knew most singles used apps to connect, but she never had. It didn’t feel organic to her.
“I know you never liked app dating,” Nicki said. “But I’m not a club person, so . . .”
Lincoln finished his pizza. “Let me know if you want me to run a background check on him.” His tone was light, but Olivia knew he wasn’t kidding.
Nicki rolled her eyes. “Not necessary.” She scarfed down the rest of her pizza in a few more minutes, then stood, snatching her phone off the island, where she’d placed it face down during the meal. “I should call an Uber.”
Lincoln pushed back his plate. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
He wasn’t a fan of rideshares either.
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Nicki gathered her things and shoved them into her backpack.
“I’ll be right back.” Lincoln kissed Olivia on the cheek.
“Thank you.” She turned back to her computer.
As they walked out of the house, the spinning beach ball disappeared, and the contents of the drive appeared.
She scanned the list, then opened the first file.
A death certificate popped onto the screen.
Goose bumps rippled up her arms as she read the name.
Evan Brown.
The same case file that Wendy had tried to give to Melissa MacGuiness.