Chapter 74
SOPHIE
I slunk away from the office, trying to remain unseen. I felt bad about leaving before five. Of course, nobody else cared. I didn’t have to clock in. I was salaried. Still, I stayed quiet and furtive, eager to return home to contribute something, anything, to the effort of saving the Cottages.
I didn’t know what to make of CJ’s suicide note.
Lily-Ann had told me not to worry, but I couldn’t tell if she was just saying that because she found worry inefficient.
Still, I tried to put it out of my mind, except for texting Riley and trying to assure her, not entirely honestly, that the note definitely meant nothing.
When I got home, I discovered that Nicholas must’ve left his office even earlier than I had because I found a bottle of sparkling pear cider—my favorite—in the living room, along with a bouquet of dahlias and zinnias.
“What is the meaning of this?” I called, as if I’d caught him cheating. “I come home early and this is what I find?”
Nicholas stepped in from the kitchen. “It isn’t what it looks like!”
“What’s the occasion?”
“There’s no occasion, I’m just that good a boyfriend.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “There’s sparkling pear cider. You hate pear.”
“It’s the apple’s mushy cousin.” He shuddered. “Okay, fine, there is an occasion.”
“I hate occasions.”
“You’ll like this one.” He poured my cider into a champagne glass. “Helene and George love your script.”
“What? No. They read my play? Oh, god.” I felt sick at the thought.
I barely knew Helene and George! I hated the idea of strangers reading my play—or, even worse, watching it onstage.
Which I knew defeated the entire purpose of playwriting, but still.
“Wait, back up. They told you that? What did they say exactly?”
“That they love it, Sophie.”
“They said that or you’re saying that?”
“They said—”
“And you believed them?”
“Sophie. Sweetie. Why would they lie?”
“Because they’re liars!”
“They’re not liars. They love it because it’s wonderful.” He took my hand. “The same reason I love you.”
I tried to catch my breath. “What exactly did they say?”
“That they’re excited to know such a talented playwright. That they cannot wait to see it performed. I told you so! I knew they’d love it.”
“Shut up.” I couldn’t believe this was happening.
He grinned. “So we’re having dinner with them next week.”
“What? Nicholas! What is wrong with your boundaries? You’re not my manager, you’re my boyfriend. You can’t just go around forcing innocent strangers to—”
My phone rang, and I knew it was George and Helene. I almost started hyperventilating before I saw the caller was Mrs. B. Which was weird. Usually she’d just stop by, like a character in an eighties sitcom—or a person from ye olden times.
I answered and switched to speaker. “Hey, Mrs. B.”
“Sophie, there you are!” she said, sounding almost querulous. “Thank goodness you answered. Oh, thank goodness. I’m in a bit of a … what’s the word?”
I didn’t like the frightened tone in her voice. “Is everything okay?”
“A kerfuffle! That’s what I’m in. Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine. Only could you come get me?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Don’t tell anyone! Promise you won’t.”
“You’re on speakerphone,” Nicholas said.
“Oh, Nicholas! That’s fine. You come, too. I’m at the DeYoungs’ house.”
“In Hope Ranch?” I asked. “What are you doing there?”
“I’m hiding on the deck around back. So the sooner the better!”
Nicholas shot me a disbelieving look. “Why are you hiding?”
“Because my ride isn’t here yet!” Mrs. B said, and ended the call.
I MADE NICHOLAS drive, because he didn’t mind speeding. My contribution was grinding my teeth and asking unanswerable questions: “What is she doing there? How did she get there? Oh, god, is she trespassing? Do you think she broke in? Are we going to break in?”
Nicholas accelerated through the iron gates of Hope Ranch and past the lagoon.
“Maybe CJ is back at the house,” I said, trying to cheer myself up. “Maybe that’s why she called!”
“Why would—” He shook his head. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
I told him to stop picking on me, then chattered nervously until we arrived at the property. Nicholas followed the drive toward the house and parked beside a car that reminded me of Ocean’s.
Because it was.
“That’s Ocean’s car,” I said. “What’s she doing here?”
“Maybe Mrs. B drove it over.”
I blinked at the house. “Uh, should we ring the doorbell?”
“Yes?”
“No, Mrs. B said she’s around back, let’s look for her first. Oh, god, what if Karina catches us creeping around?”
“At the very worst, she’ll yell at us.”
“I don’t like when people yell at me! And at the very worst, she’ll call the cops. All we need is another run-in with Detective Enible. Lily-Ann told me I can’t speak to him.”
Nicholas started around the side of the mansion. “C’mon.”
I hated breaking the rules, but Mrs. B had sounded so worried that I followed Nicholas along the flagstone path to the rear of the house. The air smelled different here, as the sea breeze welled up the cliffs from the beach.
I stopped and didn’t see Mrs. B.
But a moment later, we heard her. “Sophie! Nicholas! Up here!”