Chapter Seven
Wine & Thistle is glowing in the dark as I run across the street ahead of oncoming traffic.
I adjust my ponytail as I approach the entrance.
To the left, in the window table, two glammed-out women are laughing together over drinks.
They look effortless, like it’s not hard to be them.
How I wish that was me and Zoe, just enjoying the good things of life without a worry in the world. Was that ever us, though?
As I step inside the restaurant, delicious smells envelop my senses – bread, garlic and … chicken? My stomach rumbles.
The hostess is seating someone else, so while I wait, I pluck at my flannel shirt and readjust the shoulders.
‘Hi!’ I say when the hostess returns, plastering on a smile. ‘I have a reservation under Dawson.’
She checks her tablet. ‘Right this way, Zoe.’
At the back of the restaurant, she seats me at a tiny table by the restroom, which suits me just fine – all the better for having a discreet conversation. I hide behind the menu until I hear the server approaching.
‘Hi, my name is Alex, and I’ll be your …’
I lower the menu. ‘Hi.’
His eyes go funny, like he’s trying to remember where he last saw me.
‘I have some questions for you, Alex.’
‘Sure!’ I can tell by his expression he still hasn’t placed me. ‘Happy to answer any questions you may have about the menu—’
‘It’s about Liam. Tall, blond, you know, really good looking. Anyway. I was here last night on a date with him. You were our server.’
‘… Oh. Yes! Welcome back!’ Though he’s smiling, it’s forced. Is that a potential sign of guilt?
‘Listen,’ I say in a low voice, because I don’t want to embarrass him. I just want him to talk. ‘Why did you bring me the Margarita Kong last night? We both know I didn’t order it.’
Alex is a really tan guy, but I watch his skin go two shades paler.
‘Ma’am, I’m so sorry. I can explain.’
‘Did Liam put you up to it? I won’t rat you out, I swear.’
He looks miserable. ‘I brought you the wrong order. That was on me. It was a total accident—’
‘You don’t have to cover for him, Alex.’
‘I’m really not. It was an honest mistake. I’m so sorry, and I’d be happy to comp your drink tonight.’
I can’t help a small sound of frustration. ‘Alex, I need your help. Can I please level with you? I think this guy is up to no good. If there’s anything you can tell me—’ I give him my most pleading look.
He looks around nervously, then leans close and lowers his voice to a whisper. ‘Here’s what I can tell you. That guy is a regular here. Ever since he first came in a few months ago, he’s in here multiple times a week, always with a different girl. Basically, a serial dater.’
A cold shiver moves through me. This is exactly the intel I needed. Also, it’s not hard to put Zoe’s face in the imaginary line up of women.
Alex straightens. ‘But he’s a great tipper, and I’ve never seen him do anything shady.’
‘Wait one second,’ I say, whipping out my phone. I pull up a picture of Zoe. ‘Have you ever seen her with him?’ If he says yes, I’m calling Detective Barnett and raining hell down until he agrees to bring Liam in.
Alex leans in close. ‘No.’
I make him take the phone. ‘Look closer. Are you sure?’
Alex expands the image, frowns, then shakes his head. ‘Sorry. But it’s possible? My memory for faces isn’t the greatest. And I’m not here every night.’ He hands the phone back.
‘I saw a camera outside. Do you know how I could get access to the video? I know the exact night she would’ve been here.’
‘I think we use a third party for all that … I don’t know. You’d probably have to contact corporate.’
‘OK. What about these women?’ I swipe to the pictures I have saved of the women who disappeared before Zoe – Kayleigh and Crystal.
‘No, no …’ he says, and then, squinting at Kayleigh’s picture, ‘Wait! Wasn’t this the woman they found dead near the lake?’
‘Yes. And I think Liam may have dated her at some point.’
Alex’s eyes widen. ‘Shit. So you’re saying this guy might be responsible for …’ He glances around us, then suddenly stiffens.
I lean around him, following his gaze. Speak of the devil.
I shoot the plastic menu back up in front of my face, because it’s Liam, walking toward the bar, dressed in a suit and tie, looking just as perfect as last night.
A woman in a pink cocktail dress leaps off the bar stool and they air kiss each other.
Then, as he gestures her back into her seat with a gentlemanly sweep of the hand, his eyes wander around.
‘Did he see me?’ I breathe.
‘I don’t think so …’ Alex breathes back.
I peek over the top. Both their backs are now to me, so I lower the menu.
Both Alex and I watch as the bartender slides drinks toward them.
‘What do we do?’ he whispers.
I stare at them, my heart drumming an anxious beat.
He’s going to get her drunk. Probably take her to the bar – a secondary location. And then –
Another disappeared woman?
It’s been six months since Zoe. Based on the intervals between victims, the timing would be right.
I grit my teeth.
Not on my fucking watch.
‘How fast can you get me a shot of tequila and a huge glass of red wine?’ I say.
I’m gonna need some liquid courage for this.
*
I’m normally a premeditated kind of person. Except for in matters of men and college majors, I like to make sure I have a plan that makes sense before leaping into situations.
So it’s completely out of character for me when, with zero plan, just adrenaline burning through my veins, tequila burning down my throat and the giant glass of wine in my hand, I push back my chair. With a murmured ‘good luck,’ Alex makes himself scarce in the back and I march to the bar.
I’m going to break this party up. I’m going to tell her he was with me last night. I’m going to make a scene and ensure that this date ends now.
I open my mouth to say, ‘Liam? Who is this?’ which seems like an appropriately dramatic intro, except I don’t, because at the last minute, I trip. My body flails forward. Wine arcs through the air, headed straight toward Liam’s date.
I watch it happen in horrifying slow motion – and then, with a high-pitched squeal, the woman in pink has been baptized, face, hair, dress.
She splutters, her eyes bugging out.
‘Oh my God, I am so sorry!’ I cry in genuine horror, looking around frantically. ‘Um, hello? Anyone? Can we get some paper towels here?’ Why can’t I seem to catch a server’s eye?
‘On it,’ says Liam, leaning across the bar and raising a hand toward the bartender.
‘Excuse me—’ His ringing baritone commands attention.
‘Paper towels please? Wine spill.’ He has them in hand in a second and extends a wad to the woman, who grabs it and starts padding her dress, huffing with each motion.
‘I did not mean to—’ I say, taking one step closer to her.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ she shouts, throwing down the soaked paper towels. ‘You ruined my dress! Do you have any idea how much I paid for this? Get away from me!’
‘But—’ I shake my head helplessly. I can’t leave! I’m here to save you!
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ she yells. With a grunt, she descends from her stool and shoves me in the shoulder. ‘I said get away from me, you nutcase!’
Nutcase? I stumble back, catching myself on the edge of a table and rattling the silverware. I barely have time to right myself before a hand is at my back. Liam’s.
‘Val,’ he says, holding up a protective arm between me and his rabid wine-soaked date, ‘you need to calm down.’
Uh-oh. Liam went and said it. I brace for impact right as his date shrieks,
‘Calm down!?’
He tries again. ‘I just mean that we should all take a minute and—’
‘You’re my date! And now you’re on her side?’ Val grabs her purse – a heavy-looking handbag encrusted in metal studs – and swings wide. It’s coming straight for the side of my head. I don’t have time to react. Liam throws himself between us. It hits him in the chest. He doesn’t even flinch.
‘Val, please—’ Liam says, holding up both hands in a pacifying gesture.
There’s a resounding crack as she slaps him. ‘Have a great life, asshole!’ she cries, and storms out, middle finger raised high.
My jaw is on the floor, the now-empty wine glass dangling uselessly from my hand.
That did not go as planned.
… but also Lady in Pink is definitely not getting murdered tonight?
Liam cradles his face, working his jaw in a circle.
‘Ouch.’ He removes his hand, revealing a brightening handprint on his cheek.
Then again, maybe Val would have handed him his ass on a platter.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask, because it seems inhumane not to, and also, he did protect me from a possible concussion. That purse looked a little bit lethal.
‘Are you OK?’ he says, and I nod. ‘Hi, by the way,’ he adds. ‘I’m glad to see you. You left the bar last night, and I realized I didn’t have your number …’ He squints his eyes like he’s about to say something painful. ‘I hope it’s OK that I asked Arjun to check in with you. I was worried.’
‘Oh! Yeah, I … sorry …’ No! Why are you apologizing?
He gestures to the bar. ‘Want to sit? Can I replace your wine?’
Suddenly, I’m frozen like a runner before the gun goes off. I should bolt. A strange feeling of déjà vu spills over me, like I’ve been here before – or done this before—
Right. It’s the bolting. I’ve been doing it a lot. From Brian the Bro. From the bridal shop. From last night’s date with Liam.
I can’t run away again tonight – not when I might be closer than ever to finding my friend’s killer.
But I do need to take five.
‘Actually, I need a bathroom.’
‘Take your time.’
In the safety of the single-room all-gender bathroom, I check the lock twice, then lean over the sink, fingers wrapped around the cool ceramic edges, breathing.
I need a plan. Think, Margot.
He’s waiting for me. But what do I do with him?
He’s the strongest lead I’ve found yet – who am I kidding, he’s the only lead. He really could be Zoe’s killer. But no one will take me seriously without evidence.
If I turn this disastrous evening into our second date …
pretend I’m super into him, get him talking like he got me talking last night …
get him to invite me back to his apartment and find the evidence that I need there, for instance, two severed feet …
Not to mention, if the pattern with Kayleigh and Crystal’s bodies holds, Zoe is currently in a deep freezer, maybe even in Liam’s apartment.
Yes, this plan is definitely making sense …
But wait – this guy is dangerous. Even if things go really well, and I’m able to get into his place – am I signing my own death sentence?
I can’t go home with him tonight, I promise myself. Not until I’ve ordered some mace. Or a taser. Can you get tasers on ? Further research required. For now, I’ll string him along and do everything I can to secure the next date. That one, I’ll be prepared for.
I face myself in the mirror. My skin is pale in the overhead fluorescent light.
Under my eyes, delicate purple shadows show the toll the past six months have taken on me.
I rummage in my purse for makeup, but who am I kidding.
I haven’t carried makeup with me in years.
I’ll just have to use my many other charms on Liam – like my personality. Ugh.
I run the sink, splash cold water on my face, run my hands through my hair.
Then, I pull off my flannel shirt and tie it around my waist. I turn from side to side.
The tank top I’m wearing underneath is a lot more revealing than what I normally go for, but I need every advantage I can get, and if my curves earn me points toward another date, and another date gets me closer to justice for my friend, so be it.
As I dry my hands on a paper towel, I wonder, of all the women Liam dates, how he plans which ones to kill. Is it just opportunistic – like, whoever goes home with him? Or is there some twisted rubric? And what does he do with their feet?
I don’t have answers yet, but for the first time since Zoe disappeared, the answers feel like they’re within reach.
‘No more running,’ I say to my reflection.
The girl in the mirror looks serious as hell, and for the first time in a long time, I believe in her.
She’s not fucking around.