Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Placing the double-sided cat carrier on the end of the couch in the living room and unzipping the doors, Roma watched the two snoozing cats for a moment.
They were so cute, even if they didn’t love her.
The sedative the vet had given her to put in their food was the only reason she had been able to get them to their mandated check-up.
Reaching out with a tentative finger, she gently stroked the top of Nebula’s head as the black cat slept.
Roma glanced at the clock on the wall—not quite time to call Asha—before sighing and settling back into the soft couch cushions, trying not to think about all the things she and Daisy had discovered about Harper Callahan.
Much to her disappointment, though it probably shouldn’t have been that surprising, the receptionist at Harper’s bed-and-breakfast had not exactly been forthcoming despite all the goodwill Roma’s company credit card had supposedly built up.
Still, the woman had said more than was probably allowed, even by acknowledging that a guest matching the description had been there.
Maybe it had been her own fault that Lynn had clammed up; she’d sounded too eager when asking if she had signed in as Harper Callahan. Then again, this was a few months ago now. Maybe Lynn just didn’t remember?
Roma shook her head; it was all so much harder because of the time that had passed.
She couldn’t imagine how tough it must be for cold-case investigators.
Then again, she figured that was why it made such good television—they usually had to think outside the box.
She had learned the hard way that criminal investigations are mostly about paperwork and anxiety.
At least, that was what it had felt like at Helion.
Her stomach twisted in that all-too-familiar way at the thought. Roma still wasn’t free from the occasional anxious spiral that the FBI and IRS would kick in her door and arrest her all over again.
It was probably strange, or at least unusual, that these spirals had become less frequent since she had gotten involved with looking into Matthias’s disappearance. Maybe her therapist was right when she suggested that a new interest or hobby might help give her mind a reason to stop worrying.
Somehow, though, she doubted this was what the woman had in mind when she’d suggested it.
Roma laughed to herself, imagining Doctor Gregory’s horrified expression if she confessed that she was diverting her attention from the felony embezzlement charges by working on a missing person’s case.
Actually, Doctor Gregory was a master at listening without judgment and would probably ask her whether that was an attempt to use humor as a defense mechanism or if she had truly gotten involved in another criminal investigation.
She shrugged off the thought as she opened her laptop and brought up the document with all her notes in it.
Guilty, her eyes flicked over the file just below the main one, and she wondered what Doctor Gregory would think of her increased journaling.
Well, calling it journaling was probably romanticizing the activity a little; she had been logging her daily movements ever since she realized she was a person of interest in case she needed to recall where she was at a certain time on a specific day.
Since learning more about Harper Callahan and Petria Hall, she had stepped up her detail a bit and added commentary about how she was pretty sure Harper had something to do with all those so-called “unrelated deaths by misadventure” that had taken out nearly thirty percent of the witnesses against her in the massive criminal trial that threatened to send her to jail for multiple life sentences.
You know, just in case.
Yeah, so maybe she was being a bit paranoid. But who would blame her?
Even as she thought it, that familiar voice in the back of her mind, which she knew for a fact was her anxiety, whispered, “So why are you too ashamed to tell anyone? Are you scared they’ll think you’re stupid, or do you just know it’s dumb so you don’t want anyone to find out?”
A notification appeared in the bottom-right corner of her screen, briefly distracting her; it was Asha dialing in. She accepted the call and watched the cursor spin as the connection loaded.
Roma took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she counted down from ten. When she reached one, she opened her eyes and smiled intentionally, just as she and Doctor Gregory had practiced.
Asha’s face filled the screen, though it was heavily pixilated at first and took far longer to come into focus than it should have.
“Ugh, I think I need a new laptop; it’s been so freakin’ slow the last few weeks,” Roma said.
Her best friend rolled her eyes. “So buy one!”
“You’re so predictable,” Roma replied, trying not to offend her by making a comment about people who could buy laptops on a whim. “You know, most people have to save for things like that.”
They talked and laughed for a bit while they filled each other in on their comings and goings over the last week. Roma was almost done telling Asha about the vet check when she gasped as an orange paw appeared on her thigh.
“Holy cow,” she said, her heart racing as Titan climbed into her lap and curled up into a ball. “Asha, do you see this?”
“I do,” Asha said, amused. “I also see a shadow approaching.”
Glancing in the direction Asha was pointing, she saw a slightly wobbly Nebula padding toward her. She gasped as the black furball clumsily rested her weight against her feline brother. A rising pool of emotion tightened her throat, and tears threatened to well up in her eyes.
“I might be getting scapegoated by a corrupt police officer,” she said, trying to joke away the emotion.
“But at least I lived to see the day that your kitties chose not to hate me…even if it’s just because they’re drugged and think I’m you because they can hear you talking.
” She laughed quietly and looked up from the snuggling pair of cats, but her laughter was cut short when she saw Asha’s expression.
“I beg your pardon?” Asha said flatly.
Suddenly, Roma’s mind was a sandstorm of panic as she tried to backpedal, and no useful words could make it through the haze. “Sorry, it’s nothing, just a bad joke.”
When Asha finally spoke, it was in a monotone that Roma had only heard once before—the night she calmly explained to the cops that a warrant to search Roma’s apartment wasn’t valid for any other address, even if Roma and her laptop were inside, and that Roma’s lawyer was entering the building as they spoke.
“I don’t believe you,” Asha said softly. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. You don’t usually make jokes like that, especially after Helion. So you’re not fooling me. Start talking right now—or I’m getting on a plane.”