Chapter 33
By the time Vero and I stepped foot outside the police department the next morning, the blinding sun was still low in the sky.
Vero massaged her wrists between sips of her bitter police station coffee, her steps lighter than I had seen them all week.
Not only because the burden of her ankle monitor was gone, but because she had finally shed the emotional baggage she’d been carrying for a year.
The shame she’d felt for the charges against her, the betrayal she’d endured by people she had thought were her friends, the guilt she’d carried over dropping out and running away …
None of that had to hold her back anymore.
She could finally stop looking over her shoulder and start looking ahead.
Cam was waiting for us in the Eggplant at the curb.
Zoey and Arnold waved at us from the passenger seat.
Zoey’s cardigan was on inside out, and Cam’s hair was sticking up.
Judging by their goofy grins, I had a pretty good idea where Cam had spent the night.
Vero raised an eyebrow at their rumpled appearance, but if she was contemplating murdering Cam, she kept those thoughts to herself.
Vero and I tossed our empty paper cups into the nearest trash can and climbed into the back.
Cam reached behind him and handed me my cell phone.
I cringed as I booted it up. One missed call from Nick at ten o’clock the night before.
I must have missed it during all the commotion at the party.
I dialed into my voice mail and pressed the phone to my ear.
Hey, he said in a low voice, as if he were trying to keep from waking the kids.
No emergencies. The kids and I are doing great.
I was just missing you and wanted to hear your voice.
I could picture him loosening his tie and rubbing his eyes at the end of a long day.
It’s getting pretty late. The kids are asleep, and I’m heading to bed.
Hope you and Vero are okay. I know, I know, he said through a sigh, you’re probably fine.
I’ll stop worrying. Give Vero a hug from me.
I love you. And hey, he added casually, though too intentionally to be an afterthought, let me know when you’re planning to head home.
There’s something I want to talk to you about when you get here.
I listened to the click as he disconnected, trying not to read too deeply into the last line of his message. I didn’t have much time to think about it. The next voice mail was from Sylvia. It had been recorded less than an hour ago:
Finlay, it’s Sylvia. What’s this I’m seeing online about you narrowly escaping death at the hands of a deranged unabomber?
I feel like there’s a very big story here.
I want to hear everything, Finlay. Every word!
Especially the part about how you rescued your accountant from that burning police car.
How did you not manage to get a picture of that?
I asked Jared to make one. Don’t worry, I told him to make sure the AI makes your hair look good and you’re wearing something sexy.
By the way, I’m glad to hear that whole sorority house–larceny business got cleared up.
Your followers will all be relieved to hear it.
They’ve been very concerned about that gorgeous brunette Nick was spotted with at the mall yesterday. Call me when you get this.
“Everything okay?” Vero asked as I stared at my phone. Sylvia’s last comment mingled with Nick’s in my brain. Those vague final words about how he had something he wanted to talk to me about suddenly took on a little extra weight. I didn’t like the heavy feeling it left in my chest.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to smile. Vero didn’t need to take up my worries right now. “It was just Sylvia.”
“Did Javi text?” she asked with a wince. I didn’t imagine she was looking forward to explaining where we’d disappeared to yesterday. We’d been gone all night without a word, and I was sure he and Norma would both have plenty to say about it.
I passed her my phone. “I didn’t see any messages from him. Why don’t you call and tell everyone we’re on our way home.”
Vero braced herself and called Javi first. After a few rings, she frowned. “He’s not answering.”
“It’s early. Maybe he’s still asleep. Those pain pills really knocked him out. Try your mom. She’s probably up.”
Vero dialed her mother. When her mother didn’t pick up, she dialed her aunt. “That’s strange. None of them are answering.”
“Where to?” Cam called over his shoulder.
Vero and I exchanged a worried look. “Take us to my mom’s house,” she said.
Norma’s house was quiet when Cam dropped us off.
Not one of Vero’s neighbors had opened their window blinds yet, nor had any of them set out their trash cans.
Wendell wasn’t sitting on his porch, Lenore wasn’t fussing with her garden hose, and Joan wasn’t peeping out her kitchen window as we drove by, all of which struck me as odd.
“Are you coming in?” I asked Cam when he didn’t shut off the car.
Cam slung an arm over Zoey’s seat back. “I’m gonna drive Zoey back to her place first. Can I catch up with you in a couple of hours?” There was a sweetness to his giddy blush, and I hadn’t missed the adoring way they’d been looking at each other during the drive.
Cam was eighteen years old, a grown adult.
He didn’t need to ask my permission, and I wasn’t sure he was, but it sounded like he might be and something about that was endearing.
“Sure. I’m heading back to Virginia this afternoon.
You can follow me if you want. I’ll spring for burgers on the way. No onions this time.”
He smiled. “Sounds great. Thanks, Mrs. D.”
I followed Vero up the driveway as she rummaged in her pocket for her house key. She paused. Her eyes did a quick pass over the mailbox, the garage door, and all the windows.
“Do you smell something?” Her nose wrinkled.
I sniffed, catching the faint hint of something foul.
The smell grew stronger as we followed it toward the front door.
A paper grocery bag sat in the mulch bed beside the stoop, and a disposable lighter lay abandoned beside it.
It didn’t take much guesswork to figure out what was in the bag.
“That shit-slinging son of a bitch! He must have heard Cam’s car coming and took off before we spotted him. ”
“Then he can’t be far. You check the woods, I’ll check the street!” I ran to the corner and looked both ways down the sidewalk while Vero peeled off and circled around to the backyard.
There was no sign of anyone. No cars burning rubber out of the neighborhood. Nobody running.
“Anything?” Vero asked, breathing hard when we met back at the stoop.
“Nothing,” I said.
Vero nearly gagged, turning her face away from the stench as she picked up the bag of dog poop and carried it gingerly to the trash bin beside the garage.
She paused in front of it, frowning down at the empty space in the driveway where her mother usually parked her station wagon. “Where’s my mom’s car?”
“Maybe she and Gloria left early for work?”
“She and Gloria don’t need to be at the hospital for another two hours. And there’s no way she would have left for work before reaming me out for leaving this house and staying out all night. Something’s wrong.”
She hurried back to the stoop and opened the front door.
Javi blinked at us with wide, frantic eyes from the recliner.
A strip of duct tape covered his mouth. Most of the rest of the roll had been wound around his body, anchoring his arms tightly to his sides.
His crutches leaned against a far wall, beyond his reach.
He shouted something unintelligible through the duct tape.
A game show played loudly on the television, and the room looked like a tornado had blown through it.
Lenore glanced up at us from behind a handful of cards. “You’re back! We were getting worried.”
Wendell sat beside her, sneaking peeks at her cards with his one good eye.
There were four open pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of them, dotted with crumbs.
A knife coated in dried cheese and tomato sauce sat beside several empty liters of soda, crumpled receipts, a wallet, a key ring, and a bowl of greasy popcorn seeds.
In the middle of the mess were two piles of playing cards.
Joan was asleep on the love seat, her cards spilling from the hand on her belly and her cannula vibrating with her open-mouthed snores. Eugene was wedged in the seat beside her, studying his own cards.
“Took you long enough,” he groused. “If I’d known this was going to be an overnight job, I would have negotiated a higher fee.”
Vero’s eyes darted frantically around the room.
A stack of old DVDs was sitting open on the TV, and there were mountains of dirty dishes and cups and empty chip bags on the side tables.
It looked like a frat party in a retirement home.
Pillows and blankets were strewn all over the floor. One of them was moving.
I hoped we wouldn’t find a stripper sleeping underneath it as Vero yanked up the corner of the blanket.
A terrified young man stared back at us. His wrists and ankles were duct-taped together, and his mouth was taped shut. He began thrashing against the blanket and shouting into his duct tape.
“Who’s this?” Vero asked the Fantastic Four.
Lenore looked surprised. “Oh, I almost forgot! We caught this hooligan leaving a bag of dog doo in front of your mother’s door last night.”
Wendell looked offended. “What do you mean we?”