Chapter Twelve—Dalen #2
“She was embarrassed. She said Julie had spent years cleaning up after her, and she couldn’t stand to disappoint her again.”
That sounds enough like Meg to hurt.
Landry continues before I can respond. “She was angry too.”
“At Julie?”
“I couldn’t tell. At everything. Her divorce, money, and losing the job.” He hesitates. “She said something about being tired of everybody thinking Julie could fix her.”
I stare at the closed office door. “What exactly did she say?”
“I don’t remember exactly. This was months ago.”
I press my fingers against the desk. “Anything else?”
“No. I’m sorry. If I’d thought Julie needed to know for her own safety, I would’ve told her.”
“So would I.”
The words come out before I can stop them.
Landry doesn’t know what they mean. I do.
I thank him and hang up.
For the first time since Julie woke screaming beside me, I stop trying to explain each incident separately.
Meg had a key to our house. She lived with us for six weeks after her divorce. Julie never asked for the key back because Meg is family. We changed the locks after the back door incident, and the things happening inside our house changed afterward.
The threatening message appeared on Julie’s phone. The photographs moved at Julie’s office.
The phone call supposedly came from Julie, but Meg was the one who showed me proof of it.
Meg told me about their mother. Meg asked whether Julie was sleeping. She asked if she was eating. She told me Julie sounded confused.
I let those questions fester until I asked them.
The knife slides across the cutting board again in my memory. Julie’s face changes when she realizes why I moved it.
I grab my phone and call her. Voicemail again.
“Julie, I need you to call me. Please.”
I hang up and call again because respecting her space no longer matters as much as making sure she’s safe.
Still nothing, so I call Meg.
This time she answers with a sharp, “What?”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
I look at the time. Five-forty-eight. “Why did you lie about work?”
“I didn’t lie.”
“I spoke to Landry.”
Meg doesn’t answer.
“He told me you were fired four months ago. He told me why.”
“Dalen, you don’t understand.”
I grit my teeth. “Then explain it.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
I move around my desk. “Why didn’t you tell Julie?”
“You know why.”
I hear traffic in the background. “No, I don’t.”
“She would’ve tried to fix it.” Meg sounds angry now. “She always does.”
I remember Landry’s version of the same complaint. “You could’ve told her to stay out of it.”
Meg laughs without humor. “Have you met my sister?”
“Yes.” My hand tightens around the phone. “I’ve also spent two weeks listening to you tell me there’s something wrong with her.”
She instantly denies it. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Dalen, you’re upset.”
The words stop me. I’ve heard that tone before. Calm. Reasonable. Concerned. She used it every time she talked about Julie.
I straighten. “Where are you?”
“I told you. I’m home.” A car door closes on her end.
I turn toward the windows. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“The door.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
An electronic chirp follows, unmistakably a car locking.
“Meg, where are you?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Where is Julie?”
Her response comes too quickly. “How would I know?”
I grab my jacket from the back of my chair. “Have you talked to her today?”
“She’s not answering me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Meg swears under her breath. “I have to go.”
“Meg.”
The call ends.
I dial Julie while walking toward the elevators and get voicemail again. Calla stands as I approach, and I tell her I need my car.
“I’ll have it brought around.”
I stop before she reaches for the phone. I have no idea where Julie is. I don’t know where Meg is. Driving around the city because I’m frightened won’t help either of us.
Julie said she found a furnished place but didn’t tell me where. She works with the same people repeatedly though, including contractors, designers, and realtors.
“Mara.”
Calla frowns. “Mara?”
“Mara Dempsey. Realtor. Julie works with her.”
Calla is already searching. “I have her office.”
“Call her.”
She does, then hands me the phone when Mara answers.
“This is Mara.”
“Mara, it’s Dalen Dorsey.”
There’s a pause before she says, “Hi.”
Julie told her enough to make that greeting cautious. I don’t waste time trying to get around it. “I need to know if you’ve spoken to Meg today.”
“Why?”
“Please answer me.”
Mara’s tone cools. “I’m not giving you Julie’s address.”
“I didn’t ask for it.” Her silence changes after that. “Did Meg contact you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Around five.”
My grip tightens on Calla’s phone. “What did she want?”
“She was worried about Julie. She said Julie wasn’t answering her after an argument yesterday.”
“Did you tell her where Julie is?”
Mara doesn’t answer.
I close my eyes. “Mara.”
“I thought she was helping.”
I keep my tone calm. “Did you give Meg the address?”
“Yes.”
I silently curse. “When?”
“Maybe twenty minutes ago.”
I turn toward Calla. “Call the police.”
Mara makes a startled sound. “What?”
“Give Calla the address and call the police. Tell them Meg Nirris may already be there.”
“Dalen, you’re scaring me.”
“She lied to you. Call them now.” I hand the phone back to Calla and take out mine. Julie still hasn’t answered any of my calls. I try once more while walking toward the elevator, but voicemail picks up before the doors open.
I step into the elevator and open our text thread to type:
Julie, call me now. Don’t trust Meg. Do NOT let her into the house.
I hit send.