by Box Set
I heard someone enter the neighboring dressing room, and I dropped my voice to barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to explain it over the phone, but come to the mall and I’ll meet you here.” I told her which store I was in and told her I was in a dressing room. “Be careful when you go out to your car. Make sure no one’s around, then come straight here.”
“Court, you’re scaring me.”
That was a good thing—less reason for her to argue. My voice lowered even more. “I think we’re in danger.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
I glanced toward the neighboring changing room where I heard the rustle of clothes. “Just come, okay? Right now.”
“Okay.”
“And Shelby?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure no one follows you.”
“Right. Okay.”
When we hung up, my gaze went to the clothes I’d grabbed and I had to hold back a laugh when I saw what I’d snatched from the racks. Clothes nowhere near my size, and in styles I would never wear. Using my phone, I pulled up the app for the local news channel to see if there was a story about Dylan being arrested. I found a brief mention that confirmed an unnamed person of interest in the murder of Jeremy Owens had been brought in but had not yet been charged.
What does that mean? Do they think he did it or not? What made them bring him in for questioning in the first place? Are they going to arrest him?
Thoughts spun around in my head as I stared at the screen for several minutes.
“Courtney?” I heard someone whisper-scream a while later. “Where are you?”
The stall next to me was silent, and I realized the woman had left. I jumped up from the tiny seat I’d been using and opened the door to the dressing room. There stood Shelby, all confused-looking and scared.
When she saw me, her shoulders relaxed and we hugged. “What in the world is going on?” she asked after pulling back and staring at me. “I get this crazy text from you and then you go all cloak and dagger on me.” Her gaze swept the row of dressing rooms. “This is your hide-out?”
I laughed softly, glad to have Shelby by my side, then tugged her into the dressing room and closed the door.
She looked at the clothes hanging on the hook, then smirked at me. “Please tell me these were already in here.”
The stress I’d been feeling flowed out of me like air from a punctured balloon, and I laughed out loud. “No. I picked them out. I thought you might like them.”
She fingered one of the blouses. “Uh, yeah. I don’t think so.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t make you buy them.”
She sat on the triangle seat bolted to the place where two walls met, leaving me standing. “Okay. What happened?”
To be safe, I stepped out of the dressing room and made sure the other stalls were empty before coming back in, re-locking the door, and facing my best friend. I told her exactly what had happened when I’d gotten out of class. The only thing I left out was Dylan’s name. The report hadn’t mentioned it either, so it seemed prudent to not yet identify him to anyone who didn’t already know he was the murderer. “I checked on what Baldy told me. The police have someone in custody, but they haven’t arrested him yet.”
Shelby’s eyes were wide and her mouth had fallen open. “We’re so screwed,” she finally said, her voice soft.
My phone chimed a message. I looked at my screen and saw it was from Mom.
Mom: Did you talk to Shelby? Are you safe?
I typed a reply, letting her know Shelby was with me and that we were safe.
Mom: I have to head to work, but I’ll be checking in with you, and I would appreciate it if you would keep me up to date on what’s happening.
I told her I would, then turned back to Shelby. “My mom’s freaking out a little.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You told her? About Baldy?”
I frowned. “More or less. I had to make sure she was safe, you know? And make sure she’s careful.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I don’t know what Baldy and his friends are capable of.” I pictured Mom, all alone in her apartment. “Do you think they know where my mom is? Do you think she’s safe?”
“They probably have no idea where she is. It’s you they’re most concerned with.”
I grimaced, not happy to be reminded that I was their main target. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Shelby stared at her hands, which twisted together in her lap, then she looked at me. “What are we going to do?”
I have no idea. Then I remembered Mom’s suggestion to get far, far away. “How would you feel about going on an adventure?” I hoped that would put a positive spin on it.
Her eyebrows bunched as her head tilted. “An adventure? I think dealing with these thugs is adventure enough, don’t you?”
A nervous laugh burst from my mouth. “Well, that’s kind of the reason for the adventure. You see, I was thinking we should leave town. Permanently.”
She straightened and pulled back. “Move? From here? Away from school and our jobs? Where would we go?”
I had no clue, but now that I’d said the words out loud, it seemed like the right thing to do. “That’s what we need to talk about.”
Shelby glanced around the small space. “Can we go somewhere else? I’m starting to feel claustrophobic.”
My phone rang.
“It’s probably my mom again,” I said as I took my phone out of my back pocket. But as I read the number on the screen, I shook my head. “I don’t know this number.”
“Should you answer it? What if it’s Baldy?”
Scared she was right, I hesitated, then decided to answer. What if it’s important? “Hello?”
“Courtney?”
The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “Yes?”
“This is Detective Turner. How are you?”
Why is he calling now? “Okay.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” He paused. “I wanted to let you know that we have someone in custody who we believe may be the suspect we’ve been looking for.”
My gaze went to Shelby, although she had no idea who I was talking to. “Oh. That’s good.”
“Yes. Which brings me to the reason I’m calling.”
Nervousness settled into my gut, making my stomach clench.
“Courtney, I need you to come in and view a line-up. I want to know if you recognize the person you witnessed stabbing the deceased.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My heart seemed to stop for a moment before going into a gallop. He wants me to come there and identify Dylan? Baldy will not be happy. But I can’t exactly say no. “When would this be?”
“I need you to come this afternoon.”
“This afternoon?” My gaze stayed on Shelby, and I could read on her face the frustration of not knowing what was going on.
“Yes,” Turner said. “Can you come at four o’clock?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, glanced at the screen, and saw it was two thirty. Ninety minutes? I only have ninety minutes until I have to see Dylan? I pressed the phone back to my ear. “He won’t be able to see me, right?”
“That’s correct.”
Desperately trying to come up with an excuse to say no, I was quiet.
“I’ll see you at four,” Turner said in a tone that conveyed the expectation that I would be there.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
I don’t. I’m dreading it.
We disconnected and my shoulders slumped.
“Who was that?” Shelby asked as she got to her feet.
“Detective Turner.”
“And?” She didn’t seem to get the seriousness of this.
“And he wants me to come in and ID Dy . . . I mean, the suspect.”
Her mouth formed an O, then she whispered, “You were about to say Dylan, weren’t you?” She touched my arm with her hand and leaned close. “Is he the one?
Is he the killer?”
I stared at her without speaking, but I was sure my face said it all. “I have to be there in ninety minutes.”
She straightened and looked at me. “You can’t go.”
“What?” Is this the same girl who wanted to tell the police I know who did it? “Why not?”
“He’ll kill us, Courtney. Baldy. He will, won’t he?”
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t deny that she could be right.
She dragged her fingers through her hair as she spun away from me and muttered, “He’s probably watching the police station to see if you show up.” She turned to face me and her hands slid to her face. “If he sees you, it’s over. For both of us.” Her fingers drummed against her cheeks. “I don’t want to die, Court. I’m too young.”
Her building panic was contagious. I had to make her stop. I grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her face. “That’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know that? Huh? How? Do you have some sort of second-sight you’ve never told me about that lets you see into the future?”
“Stop it, Shelby. You’re becoming hysterical.”
“Why aren’t you getting hysterical? You’re the one he’s going to kill. He’ll probably do it slowly too. You know, torture you first to see what you told the police.”
I wanted to scream at her to shut up, but I knew it was only her fear talking. Still, I needed her to stop. Immediately. I yanked the door to the dressing room open and stepped into the hall.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was shrill. “Don’t go out there.”
“We can’t stay in the dressing room forever. Come on.”
Her gaze went from my face to the doorway of the dressing room, and back again. “Yes we can. If we hide when they close the store they won’t even know we’re in here.”
I was way more scared than she was, but I’d also faced Baldy and had lived to tell the tale. Maybe that gave me an advantage. In any case, I wasn’t on the express train to freak-out mode like she seemed to be. Gently but firmly, I took her arm and tugged her toward the door. “Come on. We’ll be careful, and we’ll be fine.”
Dragging her feet, she followed me out of the dressing room area and into the main store, which wasn’t very busy at that time of the afternoon.
The sales clerk approached us. “Can I help you find anything?”
“No,” I said. “But thank you.”
“Are you going to ID him?” Shelby asked next to my ear as if the sales clerk didn’t exist.
I didn’t know what I was going to do, so instead of answering her, I continued walking. She kept pace with me, and once we left the store, I headed to a bench surrounded by fake greenery, then sat.
Shelby sat beside me and murmured, “Is this safe?”
I glanced around, but didn’t see anyone suspicious. “I think so.”
She was quiet for a moment. “We need a plan.”
I’d been considering all the options ever since I’d hung up with Turner. I angled my body so I faced Shelby. “I know what I’m going to do.”
Her face lit up like I’d just solved all the world’s problems. “What?”
I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea—in fact, I knew I could get in a lot of trouble if I went through with it. But it was the only thing I could come up with at the moment. “I’m not going to ID him. I’m going to say none of the people they show me look like the person I saw that night.”
“So you’re going to lie to the police.” It wasn’t a question.
“Would you prefer I tell them what I know? And get on Baldy’s bad side?”
“Well, no. But you could get in serious trouble if you lie and they find out.”
“How would they find out?” My eyes narrowed. “Are you going to tell them?”
Her head swung from side to side. “No way.”
“Okay then.” I smiled. “Problem solved.”
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “But what if Baldy sees you going into the police station? He’ll think you told them what you know. How will you prevent that?”
I was trying not to think about that potential obstacle.
Shelby’s eyes brightened. “What if you wear a disguise? You know, so Baldy doesn’t know it’s you.”
Imagining myself wearing a dark red wig and oversized sunglasses as I walked into the police station, I frowned. “How would I explain that to Detective Turner? If I really don’t know anything, there’s no reason for me to wear a disguise, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Shelby was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we can, you know, stake out the place ahead of time and make sure Baldy isn’t around.”
I knew what Baldy looked like, and I knew what his two minions looked like, but I was certain there were many other members of his gang, and I had no idea what they looked like. Despair wrapped around me. “We could try.” My voice sounded dull and hopeless.
“You don’t seem convinced.”
I explained the reason for my doubts.
The optimism Shelby had obviously been feeling seemed to melt away. She threw her hands up. “I give up then. I have no idea how to keep your visit to the police a secret.”
We sat in silence, and I rested my chin on my hand as I stared into the distance, hopeful a brilliant idea would strike me, and soon.
A man walked past us—a man in his twenties. The moment I saw him I turned my head away, but I was too slow, and our eyes met. He smiled at me, but I couldn’t tell if it was a smile that said Hey, baby. You’re cute. Or one that said, I see you, Courtney Hartford. And now I know where you are.
A tremor shook my body.
Chapter Thirty
“Who was that?” Shelby whispered.
I shrugged. “Hopefully no one.”
Shelby turned her head to follow the man’s progress. I looked as well, noticing that the man never turned back to look in our direction.
Maybe he’s not tied to Baldy.
The man passed a sporting goods store, which gave me an idea. I tapped Shelby on the shoulder, bringing her attention back to me. She looked at me expectantly.
“I’m going to get some pepper spray.” I looked toward the sporting goods store. “Maybe they sell it in there.”
“Good idea.” Shelby stood. “Maybe I’ll get some too.”
We walked in the direction of the store, keeping an eye on the other shoppers, looking for anyone who seemed the least bit suspicious. A few moments later we entered the store.
“Where’s your pepper spray?” I asked the clerk after we’d looked around and hadn’t been able to find it on our own.
He stared at me as if he wasn’t used to women coming in and asking for a way to immobilize people. “Uh, by the hunting gear.” He pointed to an aisle we had yet to explore.
“Thanks,” I said, then headed in the direction he’d indicated.
“Look,” Shelby said as she lifted a package from the display. “They have pink ones.”
I laughed. “For the special woman in your life, right?”
“I’m getting it.” Her voice had become serious. “You should too.”
I took one off the shelf. “Oh, I’m going to.”
We carried our pink canisters of pepper spray to the front of the store and laid them on the counter.
“Separate purchases,” Shelby said, then waited while he rang hers up.
While I was paying for mine, Shelby began ripping open the packaging.
“Hey, hey,” the clerk said. “Don’t open that in here.”
She glared at him. “Why not? I bought it. I can open it if I want to.” Then she continued what she was doing, ignoring the look of concern on the man’s face. Once she’d taken it out, she dropped it into her purse, then held out the packaging. “Can you throw this away for me?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
I held back a laugh at the look on the man’s face, then paid for my pepper spray, leaving it in the packaging. I didn’t want to worry the man anymore
than he already seemed to be.
We left the store and Shelby grinned. “Did you see the look on his face? He must’ve thought I was going to use it on him.”
I nodded.
“You should have yours ready to go too,” she said.
I pictured walking out of the mall and finding Baldy—or the man whose gaze I’d met—waiting for me. When he grabbed my arm to drag me into his car, I’d whip the pepper spray out of my purse and point it at him, then let him have it full-on. He would collapse to the ground as tears poured from his eyes, then Shelby and I would make a break for it.
“Yeah,” I said as I ripped open the package.
“When do you want to go to the police station?”
I grimaced. “Never, but I guess we should go now and get it over with.” We walked toward the mall exit, and my senses perked up, on high alert for danger. With my hand in my purse, my fingers were wrapped around my pretty pink canister, ready to yank it out and protect myself.
To my surprise, no one accosted us as we walked toward the rows of parked cars.
“We should leave your car here and use mine instead,” Shelby said. “Baldy might not know what my car looks like.”
“Good idea.” I figured he probably did know what Shelby’s car looked like—after all, she lived at my house. But maybe he wouldn’t be looking for hers. In any case, it seemed a safer option than using my car.
Only once we were safely locked inside her car did I release the pepper spray from my grip. With very little conversation, we drove to the police station. As we pulled into the parking lot, I scanned the area. There were a few people coming and going, although I didn’t see Baldy or his buddies.
“What do you think?” Shelby asked as she pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. She turned to me, her face grim. “Do you see anyone you recognize?”
I took one last look around before shaking my head. “No.” Then I sat there, not moving. Ever since Turner’s call an hour before, I’d been avoiding thoughts of how this would go. Would I really be able to lie to the detective? How would I react when I saw Dylan standing in a line-up? Would Turner be watching me, and would he be able to tell that I knew Dylan?
