by Winnie Reed
She laughed while continuing to go through her things. “Sorry, I should be better prepared. I’m looking for the notes I already compiled on you and the questions I want to ask. An assistant would be nice, but the girl reporter covering local events and interests doesn’t qualify, if you know what I mean. I’m pretty sure I could set my desk on fire and nobody would notice.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m ready whenever you are.” Somehow, her messiness relaxed me even further. She was a person, same as me, and she was in dire need of organization.
She was about to say something—her mouth opened, anyway—when she went stiff. Her head tipped to one side and reminded me of the posture Lola took when she heard something out of the ordinary.
“Hang on a sec.” It was a whisper, delivered an instant before she turned her chair around far enough that all I could make out was the molded plastic back.
Then, she gasped. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”
I could barely make out the raspy, whispered response. “You asked too many questions.”
Suddenly, the chair swung out of view. All I could make out was a shadowy figure—the only light on Jane’s end of the call came from her laptop, meaning the lights in my apartment. I couldn’t see anything. I could only hear things.
Thumps. A muffled groan. The sound of something hitting the floor.
Then, silence.
I covered my mouth with my hands, mute with horror. What had happened? Was Jane okay? Or was she—
A dark figure filled the screen. I leaned to the side, away from the camera, though it was probably too late. They had seen me, whoever they were. They must have.
Lola pawed at my leg, probably sensing my panic. I bent and grabbed her, held her close, hoped she wouldn’t make a sound.
I could hear breathing on the other end of the call, from Jane’s office. Heavy breathing, the way a person breathed when they were finished doing something difficult. Like killing a girl? I pressed my lips together as tight as I could.
That same raspy whisper filled the apartment. “Whoever you are, I’ll find you.”
The screen went dark, a series of beeps signaling the end of the call.
I let out a whimper and closed the laptop, which I should’ve done sooner but couldn’t bring myself to do until now. What did I think I would find out? What, was Jane’s attacker supposed to announce their name and social security number for my benefit?
I didn’t realize I was squeezing Lola so hard until she wiggled, fighting my grip. I set her down before holding my head in my hands and rocking back and forth. What did I just witness? Was there anything I could do about it?
The shock wore off enough for common sense to leak through. Jane wrote for the News, not the most imaginative name for a newspaper but at least it was easy to remember. I grabbed my phone and managed to look up the number to the Paradise City police department. “I think I witnessed an attack at the offices of the Paradise City News. A young woman was confronted by a person whose face I never saw while we were on a video call. The attacker ended the call before I could see their face. The girl needs help as soon as you can get it to her, please, it’s an emergency.”
I ended the call then, knowing they’d ask identifying questions if I gave them enough time. I couldn’t risk that. “Please, go get her.” I could only hope they would, that somebody would take me seriously instead of assuming it was a prank phone call. What if Jane was dying? What if the attacker had continued hurting her after ending the call?
I picked Lola up again and hugged her. A few tears dripped onto her fur, which inspired her to start licking my cheeks. At least one of us was happy.
What was I supposed to do?
Chapter Four
I opened the door and pulled Pete into my apartment before he’d even finished knocking, having been waiting there ever since I called him. “Whoa, whoa, what’s this all about?” He was amused, I realized, but then I hadn’t told him why I needed him to come over right away.
I could only hope he didn’t think this was an awkward booty call.
“I think I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see, and I think the person who did it might be able to find me.” I locked the door before turning to him, and I was glad to see him looking more serious now.
He also looked healthier than he had even a day earlier, which shouldn’t have mattered but did in the back of my head. I would’ve hated to drag him out when he was sick.
“What are you talking about?” He reached down to pat Lola’s head, since she was frantic at having a visitor.
“You have to swear, and I mean swear for real, that you won’t say anything about this to my father.” He gave me a look I read easily. “I mean it. Please. I don’t want him getting worked up.”
“Sometimes I think you care more about him than you do about yourself. If you’re in trouble, he could help.”
“I don’t know that I’m in trouble, and please, keep your voice down.” I glanced toward the locked door, thinking about Poppy.
Now he looked amused again. “What, is there a rule against having a man in your apartment after nine in the evening?”
“I don’t want to involve her if it’s possible to keep her out of it.” I wrung my hands together. “Please. This is serious. I need you to promise this will stay between you and me.”
His mouth fell open. “Jeez, Darcy. Yes. I promise. What happened?” He reached out, closing a hand over my shoulder before leading me to the sofa.
I told him everything I knew. It took longer than it should have, but that was because I couldn’t stop crying. Not big, gusty sobs, but the kind that made tears roll down my cheeks and choked me up anyway.
Once I was finished, Pete sighed, staring pensively at the hands I’d folded in my lap. “What do you think? Am I overreacting?” I watched him closely, analyzing his every move, every muscle twitch.
“Why does it sound like you hope I’ll say yes, you are?”
“Because I do hope you will.”
Our eyes met, and my heart sank. It wouldn’t be that easy, would it? “I’m sorry. It sounds like you witnessed something you weren’t supposed to know about.”
“So you believe me?”
He closed a hand over mine. “I believed you before you ever told me what happened, because it was bad enough that you called and begged me to come over. You’re usually obsessed with keeping things to yourself. Like you’re the only person who can handle things. If you called me sounding so upset, it had to mean something.”
“I’m so scared for that girl. I wish I at least had an idea of what they did to her.”
“Tell me again. Exactly what happened? You were talking to her…”
I nodded. “We hadn’t started the interview yet. She was trying to get herself organized before we did. All of a sudden, she stopped, and turned in her chair. I could only see the back of the chair—not the person she was talking to. It’s one of those high-backed models with a headrest.”
“Ergonomic.”
“Right.”
“And the person who attacked said something to her?”
“It was something about asking questions.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember the exact words used. “You ask too many questions. Something close to that. But they were practically whispering, too, so I could’ve misheard.”
“And they didn’t see you?”
That got me shaking all over again. Pete’s hand tightened around mine. Somehow, that extra pressure cleared my head. “I don’t think so. I got out of the frame as soon as it hit me that I should. I think they were too busy with her.”
“And you didn’t see their face?”
I shook my head. “Just a torso, and they were wearing black. Like a T-shirt, something plain. I wasn’t exactly studying them, though.”
“A man?”
“I’m pretty sure, yeah.”
He looked at my closed laptop, frowning. “What’s your Zoom handle? Does it have your name in it?”
Shoot. I hadn’t thought about that. Relief washed over me. “No. It’s CHBookLvr.” I spelled it out for him, and he had the decency not to grin at my corny excuse for a username.
“Is it a private account? Is your personal information out there for everyone to see?”
I just about jumped on top of the computer like it was a live grenade and I had to save him from the blast. “I don’t think it’s public, but now you have me worried.” He watched over my shoulder as I opened the account and looked at my profile. A fresh wave of relief hit me. “No, nothing should be visible to the public. I don’t use this very much, anyway. I only set it up to chat with Emma when she’s traveling for work.”
“I assume the CH is Cape Hope?” When I nodded, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and grimaced. “I doubt anybody would make that connection. They’d probably assume those are your initials. Okay, so whoever it is couldn’t look you up based on this. That’s a good thing.”
It was, but that didn’t mean my worries were over. “Gosh, I just hope she’s okay. She seems like a nice person, too.”
“I’m sure we’ll know soon, either way. I could look into it tomorrow if you want. Make a few calls up there, see if anybody’s talking about her.”
“No, don’t do that.” When he tipped his head to the side, looking at me like I wasn’t making sense, I insisted. “What if it’s somebody she knows? It sure seemed like it might’ve been. At least, it was somebody she recognized. What if they get word of somebody from Cape Hope calling around, asking questions about her? What if you talk to a detective up there and they want to know how you know about the case? They’d want to talk to me, wouldn’t they?”
I could tell he wanted to disagree, to tell me I was overreacting, but he couldn’t. “What do you suggest? Forgetting it ever happened? Looking at you right now, I can tell that would be impossible. I’ve never seen you so shaken up.”
“That’s because I’ve never seen anything like that before. Heck, I didn’t actually see it. That’s the worst part. I heard it, though, and it sounded bad enough. I’m really worried about her.”
“Hey, think about it this way. The attack happened at the newspaper office, so there will have to be something about it on the news. Right? This girl is a reporter, not just some random private citizen. You’ll be able to follow along with the story through the news.”
“That’s true. I didn’t think about it that way before.” I chewed my lap, glancing at the dark TV. It was too early for anybody to have a report on the attack, of course. Maybe in the morning. “I’ll have to check when I wake up.”
“Assuming you get any sleep tonight.”
I didn’t have it in me to tell well-intentioned lies. “I have Lola here with me. She’ll keep me company.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some more company? A human being, I mean?” I couldn’t help but react with surprise when he asked, and immediately his eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that! Come on, you know—”
Even now, I could laugh a little at how flustered he was. “No, I didn’t think that. Don’t worry. I know you’re not some sleazy guy trying to take advantage of me.”
“At least you know that much.” He gave me a rueful grin. “Besides, I’m still on the mend. I don’t even know if I have the energy to be sleazy right now.” As if on cue, he let out a yawn that looked like it might split his head in two.
“You should get home and get some rest. Do you have any of that soup left?”
“No, actually. I finished the last of it for dinner, two huge bowls. I couldn’t get enough.” Then he smacked his forehead. “I should’ve brought the container back to you.”
He was so sweet, so earnest, and I had never been so glad for it. He reminded me there were genuinely good, kind people in the world. After what I had witnessed, I needed to be reminded of that. “No sweat. You can bring it by anytime, or I could always come pick it up from you. You could think of it as a gift, too. I have plenty lying around.” I was babbling, my nerves still getting the better of me.
I could tell from his sympathetic gaze that he understood, too. It made sense. He had probably talked to countless people like me. Shaken up, unsure of what to think or how to feel in the aftermath of something unimaginable. “How about I bring it to the store tomorrow? I was looking for an excuse to see you, anyway.”
“That would be nice.”
“In the meantime, try to take it easy.” He stood, stretching, and I walked him to the door. I didn’t want to go, not really, but I had already taken up enough of his time. And I didn’t want to take advantage of him, either. Something told me if I had so much as shed one more tear or sounded even a little shaky, he might’ve changed his mind and decided to camp on the couch.
“Thank you for coming over. And I trust this will stay between us?”
“Of course. I know better than to cross you.” He winked, but then grew serious. “Really, whoever this is, they’re not going to waste their time trying to find you. They’re probably too busy trying to cover their tracks and make sure nobody at the newspaper knows they were in the building. At least, that would be my chief concern if I were in their shoes. Wait until you hear something about the reporter on the news. Odds are, it was a robbery gone wrong. You might not even have heard what you thought you heard on the other end of the call. Just… Sit tight. Okay? Try to get some sleep tonight.” It was clear from the way he said it that he knew I wouldn’t, and I didn’t bother lying and telling him everything would be okay.
It was getting late, though, and morning rolled around pretty early. Sure, waking up before the sun was a habit I’d probably never shake. I didn’t want to, either. Waking up early added hours to my day, even if those hours were still often used to help Mom open the café.
I’d be up at my usual time whether or not I slept, in other words. The only question was how grumpy I’d be. And how distracted by the news, though that depended on what came out of Paradise City. Was Pete right? Would word spread of the attack?
Would anybody wonder what Jane was doing in the office at that time of night, and whether there were any witnesses?
I looked down at Lola. She looked up at me. “Looks like it’s going to be a long night, girl.”
Chapter Five
“You look tired.”
I stared down at my mother, who at the moment was on one knee in front of the dog. “Good morning to you, too.” As it was, it was Lola whom my mother had immediately gone to when we’d entered the café through the kitchen door.
“Well, you do. Are you not sleeping enough?” She stood, scrutinizing me head-on this time. “When I was having trouble sleeping, Bob recommended I take melatonin. It worked like a charm. But you have to go to bed right away, because after half an hour or so, the effect wears off. At least, it does for me. You should stop by the drugstore and pick up a bottle on your way home.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Good, let her think it was a random case of insomnia which her boyfriend’s advice would solve. There I was, worrying half the night about how to avoid telling anybody about what had happened. For once, she left me pleasantly surprised by her lack of curiosity.
I soon found out where that lack of curiosity came from—concern over my sister.
“Did Emma tell you what happened yesterday, when they arrived at Joe’s parents' house?” Mom washed her hands, then returned to her shortbread dough. That, plus the many juiced lemons sitting on one corner of the prep table told me she was making lemon bars.
“No, she texted to say they got there safely and I told her Lola was okay, but that was it.”
Mom clicked her tongue, shaking her head sorrowfully. “Well, that mother of his is a real piece of work. As soon as Emma walked into the house, Sharon told her it looked like she was gaining weight.”
I grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Mind you, naturally, she has. Anyway, the woman wouldn’t stop commenting on it, so finally, Joe blurted out the news. I imagine he sens
ed how upset your sister was getting. It must’ve been very uncomfortable.” Mom shot me a look I knew too well. “See? You two like to act like I’m the worst, and I admit there are times when I don’t know when to leave well enough alone. But even I have enough tact to know you don’t comment so heavily on a woman’s appearance.”
“That’s true. I’ll give you that much.” Mom was gossipy, not tacky. I leaned against the table with a sigh. “Poor Emma. Both announcements got messed up, didn’t they?” When she’d tried to make a big announcement to our family, nausea had done it for her.
Mom growled as she worked the dough. “It’s a shame she didn’t throw up all over that wretched woman’s shoes.”
Even in my nearly delirious, sleep-deprived state, I couldn’t help laughing at the mental image. “Now I wish she had. I’ll bet she wishes she had, too. I’ll have to text her later and check in. And you should stop working that dough so hard, unless you want the crust to turn out tough.”
I could tell she didn’t appreciate the tip, but she saw how right I was. I tossed her a towel which she used to wipe butter from her fingers. “The last message Emma sent me, Sharon was all but falling over herself with apologies.”
“Sure, Emma’s giving her a grandbaby. Sharon must feel pretty stupid now, insulting her. Why are some people like that?” I picked up a lemon and rolled it back and forth between my hands over the shining metal table.
Mom turned away from her work.
I glanced up and found her studying me. “What?”
“You sound like you’re about to burst into tears, honey. I didn’t think you’d take the story that hard.”
Pull yourself together, Darcy. I squared my shoulders. “I’m tired. Emotional. No big deal. And I’m still a big sister. I don’t like it when anybody puts Emma down, even now when we’re grown-ups. Only I can’t pin Sharon down and threaten to dribble spit on her face unless she promises to stop.”
Mom’s jaw dropped. “You never did that!”
