Key Lime Pie

by Josi S. Kilpack

Her phone rang in her hand, and she jumped. She looked at the caller ID and breathed a sigh of relief to see it was Eric—who didn’t have a picture or a speed dial button on her phone.

  She pressed talk and put the phone to her ear. “Eric,” she said. “How did it go?”

  “She’s gone,” Eric said, his tone hollow.

  “What?” Sadie said, her fingers tightening around the phone.

  “They’re checking the cameras, and I’ve been talking to security, but apparently there was some kind of distraction, and she slipped out of the hospital.”

  “Why would she do that?” Sadie said, her heart sinking. “What about the surgery?”

  Eric said nothing. The full weight of Sadie’s actions fell across her shoulders. If she hadn’t gone to see Megan, would she have stayed? She knew Eric was thinking the same thing and closed her eyes. “Eric, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.” The way he said it sounded like an accusation.

  “I thought going to see her would help,” Sadie tried to explain. “I didn’t want to call you if it wasn’t her. I was just going off of some papers in the car; I had no way of knowing—”

  “I know you were only trying to help,” he said. “But . . . well, I don’t know.”

  Sadie felt as though she’d been slapped. Although she felt the defensiveness rising, she kept from reacting to the feelings. Eric was in a horrendously stressful situation, and now he was worried about Megan more than ever. Of course he would be angry with anyone who got in the way of that.

  They sat through a few seconds of uncomfortable silence while Sadie tried to think of the words that would diffuse his anger, defend her intentions, and help them move past this. Nothing came to mind.

  Eric broke the silence. “The Miami police have an APB, or whatever it’s called, out for her, so hopefully they’ll find her.” They were pretty words, but he didn’t seem to feel them, and therefore Sadie didn’t really either. “Anyway, I better go. I got a call from Larry a while back and ought to—”

  “Larry!” Sadie said loudly, instantly reminded of what she needed to say to Eric. “Sorry,” she said, realizing she’d taken Eric by surprise. “I’ve learned some things about Larry that might be important.”

  Eric was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “Like what?” He didn’t seem to have high hopes.

  “Did you know he worked in vital records when he was employed with the state?”

  “Yes,” Eric said. “So?”

  “And did you notice that he drives an awfully nice car for someone supporting three households and having a new job?”

  “Three households?” Eric said.

  “Layla, Tia and Max, and his own.”

  “He doesn’t support Tia,” Eric said. “He gives her a couple hundred a month to keep an eye on Layla.”

  “Nope,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “Tia works part-time, and I’d wager she cooks for Layla every day. Not that she’s not compassionate and wouldn’t help anyway, but she came to Homestead six years ago specifically to take care of Layla—that was the whole reason.”

  “Where are you going with this, Sadie?”

  She took a breath. “I think Larry is dealing in illegal documents, and I think he asked Max—that’s Tia’s brother, he’s disabled or something—to burn the box of Megan’s things.”

  Eric was quiet again. “Larry?” he finally said.

  “Yes,” Sadie said, and she proceeded to relate to Eric the details of everything she’d seen and overheard at Max’s house. “Remember when I said we needed suspects, and that suspects have secrets? Well, Larry has a secret, and it’s too much of a coincidence to imagine that his secret has nothing to do with Megan’s original disappearance.”

  He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, Sadie was disappointed to hear him sounding almost patronizing. “So what do you want to do about this little theory of yours?”

  “Oh, well, I hadn’t thought all that out just yet,” Sadie said. “But maybe we should talk to Mathews about it and let him take it from there.”

  “Mathews.” Eric said it as though it were a dirty word. “I’m in enough trouble with Mathews right now; I’m not going to give him some unsubstantiated tip.”

  Sadie remained silent, letting Eric work things through in his mind.

  “Where are you right now?” he asked.

  “Parked in front of a school around the corner from Layla’s house,” Sadie said.

  “Meet me at Layla’s then,” he said. “I’m about five minutes away.”

  “You didn’t stay in Miami?”

  “I was stuck talking to the Miami cops for over an hour, then I bailed. It’s not like Meg’s going to go back there.”

  Sadie cringed all over again. Why would Megan leave? Where would she go?

  Eric continued. “I think we should go to Larry’s and see what he has to say.”

  “Then we can go to Mathews with the whole story,” Sadie suggested, though confronting Larry didn’t sound like fun.

  “Okay. Meet me at Layla’s.”

  Sadie shifted into drive and hoped this would give her a chance to redeem herself with Eric a little, show him she was as determined to get to the bottom of this as he was. “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 39

  Twenty minutes later, they crouched beside the gate and waited for Larry to leave. Once they’d arrived, Eric had decided to look around Larry’s condo before they talked to him. Sadie wasn’t entirely comfortable with that, but she felt so badly about Megan leaving the hospital that she wasn’t inclined to argue.

  They knew there was an event at the Speedway—Eric was supposed to meet Joe in section C—and while they waited for Larry to leave, Sadie could feel Eric’s breath on her cheek. The evening light created shadows among the trees across the street from the condo Eric said was Larry’s. Eric’s arm around her waist, and the warmth of him pressed against her back, was nice, and yet strangely uncomfortable.

  Turning her head slightly, she found her face inches from his. His eyes glittered with the glow from the streetlight to the left of them. She couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, and she dug deep for the sparks that, in part, had brought her here.

  “What?” he whispered.

  Sadie continued to look at him, remembering their exchange on the courthouse lawn two days ago and the complicated feelings she’d been having ever since. There were things she’d learned about him in the last forty-eight hours that just didn’t sit right. Yet, her eyes traveled to his lips, and his words came back to her: Mark my words, Sadie Hoffmiller, the first time our lips meet, it will be you kissing me.

  Did she even want to kiss him now?

  She turned away, embarrassed by the direction her thoughts were taking at a time like this. No sooner had she turned away, however, when she felt Eric’s hand on her chin, turning her back to face him. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead he leaned toward her. It wasn’t until their faces were close enough to touch that she realized what he was doing.

  He’s going to kiss me! she said in her mind, feeling herself pulling back. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He’d given her the lead on this!

  And then his lips met hers, and his hand on her chin moved to the back of her head, preventing her from pulling away.

  Sadie froze, waiting for the euphoric rush of heat and adrenaline despite being unprepared for it. A tiny part of her wondered if this was what she needed to make sense of the feelings battling themselves out within her. Maybe this kiss was the answer.

  His lips pressed against her own and she waited for the fireworks that would fix all the confusing thoughts in her mind.

  She felt nothing.

  Was she doing something wrong? Was the fact that he’d turned this moment over to her and then yanked it away preventing her from fully enjoying the kiss? Regardless of all the emotional baggage, this was their first kiss, it was important, and she needed to get over herself. She moved her hands int
o Eric’s hair, really putting herself into the kiss as she sought for . . . something, anything, to capture what this moment was supposed to be.

  Nothing.

  How was that possible? She’d felt the tingle when she first met him; felt the giddy nervousness when he was close to her since then. Even Pete had said she lit up when he was around.

  Pete. Where did that thought come from?

  But had she felt that giddiness since coming to Florida? Instead of the passion and connection she’d imagined this moment should have, she noticed that Eric’s beard felt scruffy against her skin and that he needed ChapStick . . . and gum or something. Sadie could count on one hand—okay, maybe two—the number of men she’d kissed in her life. Not one of those exchanges had been as disappointing as this one, and as Eric took over, deepening the kiss even more, Sadie found herself completely turned off.

  After a few more seconds, she pulled away and cleared her throat, not sure what to do as embarrassment crept up her neck. Casually lifting her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, she used the movement as an excuse to move away from him.

  “Gosh, what’s that in your hair?” Eric said, and she looked back at him to see him wiping his hand on his jeans.

  She was even more embarrassed and wished he hadn’t kissed her at all. Would it have been different if they weren’t in the bushes waiting to see what Larry was up to? Somehow, she didn’t think so. In fact, as the moments ticked by, she couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how that first kiss had happened, she’d be feeling just like this.

  An instant later, Eric stiffened slightly and whispered in her ear, “There he is.”

  Sadie nodded, grateful for the distraction even if she wasn’t looking forward to what came next. Eric moved around her, gently pushing her behind him. She didn’t fight him, simply relieved that he wasn’t trying to kiss her again.

  “I’ll wait for him to pull out before I go up,” Eric whispered. “You stay here.”

  Not on your life, Sadie said in her mind, taking a quick glance at the bushes on either side. Surely they were teeming with spiders, maybe even cockroaches—she knew what kind of creepy crawlies lived in tropical climates—but telling Eric she had no intention of obeying his orders would only waste time.

  Meanwhile Larry headed to his car, talking on his phone again. Sadie wondered who was on the other end. His latest customer, maybe?

  Eric hunched slightly, like a lion ready to pounce, and Sadie felt the air electrify with tension. They watched silently as Larry got into his car and pulled out of his parking space. Only when his car was gone and the complex silent did Eric move forward, crouching as he looked around. It wasn’t until he was on the porch and reaching for his tools in his back pocket that he realized Sadie was right behind him.

  “I thought you were going to wait in the bushes,” he whispered, looking around even as he unsnapped his case and opened his pick set. The tools really did look like glorified bobby pins.

  “You were wrong,” Sadie said, also looking around to be sure they weren’t being watched.

  Eric made a huffing sound and then turned back to the door, extracting one of his picks and handing the case to Sadie. After wriggling the pick into the lock, he paused, then wiggled it some more, then held it in place with one hand while reaching for another pick from the case Sadie held out to him. He chose a second pick while Sadie continued to serve as the lookout, increasingly uncomfortable. Within seconds, she heard the final click, and Eric pushed the door open.

  “Eric,” she said as he stepped forward, “isn’t this breaking and entering?”

  Eric looked at her but said nothing, simply walking through the door.

  Sadie paused only a moment before slipping in behind him and moving to the side so he could shut the door.

  She didn’t know if she was okay with this and yet, she was here. They were here. Did Larry’s criminal involvement justify them breaking the law just a little? She didn’t think so, and now she regretted agreeing to Eric’s plan.

  Eric pulled a penlight from his front pocket and turned it on before scanning the room as he crept forward. It wasn’t dark, but evening had deepened the shadows and made it hard to see the details of the apartment. The penlight helped, but not very much. Sadie watched him for a minute, then saw a light switch and flipped it.

  “Hey,” he said, spinning around to face her. He still had the two picks in his hand, and she held the kit out to him. “Low profile, remember?”

  “Like his neighbors keep track of when he is and isn’t here,” Sadie said. She knew she was being a little snappy and wondered if it was because of the stress that had been building all day or because she was frustrated by both the kiss itself and the fact that Eric had been able to blow it off completely. “We’re breaking the law. We need to hurry and get this over with.”

  Eric looked as though he might argue, but finally took the case she offered and returned his tools inside before clipping it back on his belt. Without a word he turned back to the apartment.

  They were standing in the entryway but could see into the living room that ended with French doors on the other end. Through an arched doorway to the left was the kitchen, and perhaps a dining room beyond that. On the right was a wall that separated the living room from a hallway, off of which there were two recessed doorways—bedrooms, Sadie assumed.

  “I’ll start in here,” he said, turning toward the living room and, more specifically, a computer desk.

  Sadie glanced at the front door. For all her self-assurance, she was terrified of Larry coming back and finding them here. She’d been caught where she didn’t belong enough times to know exactly how scary those situations could be, but she turned her attention to the search at hand, trying not to freak herself out too much.

  Larry took more after Layla than Eric in regard to cleanliness, and Sadie appreciated his sense of organization—a place for everything and everything in its place. Sadie took note of the furniture. It wasn’t elaborate, but neither did it scream economy—much like Larry’s car and clothing. She headed toward the hallway, specifically the first door, which was open but dark inside.

  She flipped on the light and found her eyes immediately drawn to the open drawers, the stack of clothing on the bed, and the two suitcases half filled on the floor. The obvious signs of packing confirmed what Larry had told Max—he was leaving. She moved into the room, scanning it for anything obvious, like more of those envelopes he’d taken to Tia.

  Her phone chimed, indicating she’d received a text message, and she pulled it out of her pocket. It was from Pete.

  Alejandro Montez Rosado

  Alex was a nickname for Alejandro. Sadie pictured the tattoo she’d seen on the back of Megan’s neck. Alex was her husband. So how did Joe, a.k.a. Hugo, factor in?

  “I wonder where he’s going,” Eric said from behind her, and she startled, having not heard him approach.

  She put the phone in her pocket and returned to the task at hand, which was pulling open drawers. She didn’t want to talk about Megan with Eric right now. She still felt horrible for being part of her escape, and she sensed that Eric hadn’t quite come to terms with it either. She might have expected the kiss to soften things, but then it hadn’t been much of a kiss so it made sense that she wouldn’t get optimal results.

  “Me too,” she said, sliding open the closet door and fingering through the hangers. Eric joined her, and eventually she stepped back, since he seemed intent to be the one searching the closet. She was also uncomfortable being so close to him. Had the kiss changed everything or had it sped up the process of her realizing that Eric wasn’t everything she may have thought he was? Not that he wasn’t a good guy, she just wasn’t sure he was the right guy.

  “I’m going to check the other room,” Sadie said when she finished with the drawers, leaving Eric to fumble through the closet. She headed for the other door she’d seen farther down the hall.

  She opened the door to the second bedroom and turned on
the light, instantly disappointed to find a guest room. There was a double bed placed against the middle wall and a simple white dresser next to it with an artificial flower arrangement. It was only the black leather rolling office chair at the end of the bed that seemed out of place. It was a strange piece of furniture for a guest room, especially since the chair faced the closet. There was also a smell in the room that didn’t fit either. Metallic but also dry—crisp somehow. She turned around to see all three-hundred-and-sixty degrees of the room but couldn’t see anything she could attribute the smell to. It reminded her of the copy room at the school where she used to teach.

  Her eyes landed on the closet with two sets of sliding doors that filled one entire wall of the room. It was a big closet for a guest room—bigger than the one in the master bedroom, even. She approached it and attempted to pull the door open by pushing it along the track. It was stuck. She pushed harder, but it still didn’t move. Luckily, Sadie could be flexible. She didn’t have to open this door. She moved to the other door and pulled on it. It was also stuck. She felt a rush of heat travel through her chest. Two stuck closet doors. What a coincidence.

  “Eric,” she said, a little louder than she intended. But hadn’t she been the one who said they needed to hurry more than they needed to prowl?

  He came into the room a few seconds later. “What?” he asked, and she looked up at his sharp tone. “Sorry,” he quickly said. “I guess things are getting to me.”

  Sadie nodded toward the closet doors. “They’re stuck,” she said. “But do you smell that?” She sniffed again, and Eric did the same thing.

  “I don’t smell anything,” he said, but moved toward the closets anyway, almost as though he were humoring her.

  “You don’t smell anything?” she repeated, surprised. “Bedrooms are supposed to smell like fabric softener or lavender, maybe musty if they aren’t aired out. This one smells like a . . . a print shop.”

  That was the smell—ink, electronics, paper. She looked at the closet doors, moving her eyes around the edges. “I’ll bet the closet is full of equipment—printers and whatever else Larry used to make those documents he took to Tia.”