Chapter 59
“No one is certain what ‘Des Moines’ means,” Emily was saying from the driver’s seat.
“It might be the traditional name for what’s now the Des Moines River, or it could mean ‘from the monks,’ or it could mean ‘in the middle,’ since we’re between the Missouri and the Mississippi Rivers. So I’ve read.”
She’d opened the door to the back seat, showing Tessa two bottles of water in the center console, with a wicker basket of chips and pretzels on the seat.
Then she’d stashed Tessa’s roller bag in the trunk, and tried to stow her tote bag there, too, but Tessa had retrieved it.
She needed her stuff. Her schedule, her laptop, her phone.
“Interesting.” Tessa, buckled in, wished Emily would stop her tour-guide prattle and let her think.
Emily . It was way too strange to call her that.
Even though Tessa knew from her research that in the US, Emily was consistently one of the most common names.
This Emily appeared to be much older than Tessa.
But this was not Emily Owen. Not her Emily. Or anyone she’d ever seen before.
“I need to call my husband, forgive me, okay?” Tessa hoped Emily would understand the shorthand for I don’t want to talk right now .
“Take your time,” Emily said. “Although it’s not far from the airport to your hotel. Oh good grief.” They’d stopped at a red light.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m an idiot. I forgot my entire itinerary, and it was so last minute this morning that I was assigned to this, and I didn’t have time to put it on my phone. But you’re at the Midlands, correct? The Midlands Hotel? If I remember correctly?”
“Yes, right, and I completely understand.” Tessa attempted to be congenial. “If I didn’t have that typed-up schedule, I’d have no idea where I was.”
“So many authors say that.” Emily adjusted her rearview, caught Tessa’s eye. “The Midlands it is. Lovely place. Expensive, though. You must be valuable to your publishers.”
“Thanks.” Tessa tried to tune her out. Her brain was too full for small talk.
She had already turned her attention to her phone, but not to calling Henry.
He’d texted “call me,” but she didn’t feel like talking to him.
He could handle whatever it was. Just ask him.
Or maybe Barbara could help. Or Cool Nellie.
As, she couldn’t help thinking, they both apparently already had.
Henry would 911 her if there was a real problem, they’d discussed that.
Don’t you want to find out where he was last night? Annabelle asked. Why he left the kids alone?
Tessa did not trust herself to be civil to him. Trying to juggle his fatherly decision-making with her maternal fears, it was all she could do to avoid emotional land mines.
“Where do you go from here?” Emily asked. “On a plane again tomorrow?”
“Ahh…” Tessa said, half listening as she pulled up Google on her phone. “Nashville, I think? It’s on my website.”
“Are you having a good tour? Good turnouts? Selling lots of books?”
You have to stop talking, Tessa thought. “So far, so fabulous,” she said. “I’m reluctant to say much about it. Feels like it’ll jinx it.”
“And you have family at home?”
Tessa saw the green highway signs for downtown, arrows pointing to exits on the right. Her driver passed the first one.
“Um, yes.” Emily Owen, Blytheton , Tessa was typing in the Google search.
At home, people were asking Henry about Maine.
On the road, readers were asking her about summer vacations.
Emily, from her Maine summers, was the only living person who was connected to both.
And the only living person who knew about Tessa’s connection to the bad thing.
And now, because the universe was perverse, “Emily” was driving her.
“Lovely,” Emily went on. “They must be so proud of you.”
They must be so proud of you . Tessa almost laughed out loud, remembering how she had been suspicious of that exact phrase in Barbara-the-dog-walker’s small talk with Henry.
People who said things like that were fishing for information.
Or maybe this was simply a chatty book-tour escort trying to be pleasant.
“Well, I figure they’re all living it up while I’m gone, you know, pizza every night, probably for breakfast. But I’ll be home soon. And we’ll be back to kale and Brussels sprouts.”
There. That was funny. See, she was having a conversation.
“How old are the kids? Is your husband taking off work to stay with them? How does he feel about that?”
“It’s fine,” Tessa said, “but thank you for reminding me, I should call them now before I get caught up at the hotel. They love to know that I’ve safely arrived, that’s part of our ritual.”
“You always tell them when you arrive? They expect that?”
“Yeah, they do.” Tessa relaxed a bit when she saw the green-and-white Exit To Downtown Des Moines highway sign coming nearer.
She knew Emily was supposed to be a companion, but right now she felt like she was being chatted to death.
“My publisher, too,” Tessa added. “They’re all about knowing where I am at every moment.
In case they need to make a change in the schedule, I suppose. ”
Someone had canceled her Des Moines appearance , the thought came crashing back. Maybe by now DJ and Olivette had figured out who.
Emily was staying in the middle lane, not moving toward the exit ramp.
“They’re spending a lot on you, I can tell from your website,” Emily said. “Publishers don’t do many extensive book tours anymore.”
“I’m always grateful,” Tessa said. And she would be even more grateful if Emily steered to the right, and onto the exit. It was seconds away.
“Isn’t that our exit?” Tessa couldn’t resist asking. She pointed to the right.
“Oh dear,” Emily said. “It was. Plot twist.”