“Why is your bra hanging out of your pants?” She snatched it and dangled it in front of my face.
I yanked it away and she widened her gossip-loving grin.
“Your hair isn’t brushed, either!” she said excitedly. “Who were you with? I want all the juicy details.”
“Not now, Naya.” I fumbled with my keys.
“Someone was looking for you.”
My back straightened and I curved around, watching her blow on her fingernails.
“Who?”
“That cop from the other night. Are you in some kind of trouble? This time it wasn’t about the neighbor downstairs.”
“Uh…” My mind went blank. Maybe Beckett was trying to get me in trouble. I bent over the railing to see if my car had been stolen, but it was still there. “I don’t know. That’s weird. Are you sure it wasn’t about the neighbor? I’m not going to the station to file a complaint, if that’s what he wants.”
She hobbled toward her door, walking on her heels so her pedicure wouldn’t be ruined. “He’s either gay, has a thing for you, or you’re in trouble. But the man wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
Personal stuff is what I meant. I didn’t know who this guy was and the last thing I wanted to worry about was him tracking me down at work. Of course, he was a cop, and I’m sure he could have figured it out.
“Nope. You know me better than that. He asked where you might be staying and that was a stop sign for me. Cops don’t chase you all over town unless they have a warrant for your arrest, or want in your panties.”
“Don’t tell him where my mom lives,” I said. “If he comes around again, just tell him I moved to South America or something.”
“Will do, chickypoo.”
I tossed the keys on the bar and slammed the door. The red light on my answering machine blinked with sixteen messages.
The first was from April. “Alexia, where are you? It’s ten and you’re still not here. Hello?”
The next two were also from April, with the last one saying to give her a call because she was worried. We didn’t hang out together outside of work, but April was a likable girl and I knew she was genuinely concerned and not just bitter about having to run the store by herself.
The next eight were from Beckett. Two of the messages were apologies and on the rest he hung up, although one of them creeped me out because I could hear him breathing on the other end.
Two other messages were hang-up calls, and the number was blocked on my machine.
“Hi, I’m trying to reach Alexia Knight. This is Officer McNeal; I dropped in the other night for a disturbance. I need to speak with you on an unrelated case. It’s about your father. I’ll be stopping by this evening.”
He hung up and I hit pause and grabbed a pen, jotting down the number on the machine. When I resumed playback, I heard another familiar voice.
“Alexia, it’s Lorenzo Church. You tried selling me your car, but I was more intrigued by the driver. Sorry I missed you. I’ll give you my number and leave the ball in your court. I’m interested, and I’d like to take you out. Maybe lunch and conversation, so give me a call.”
He left his number and I scribbled it on a napkin. I wrote his name above it and doodled, making his O’s into smiley faces.
Then it was Maizy, and she sounded scared. “Lexi? Someone took Mommy.”
My heart stopped.
I don’t remember anything after that. With my keys in hand, I fled down the stairs, running across the grassy lawn so fast I stumbled and skinned my elbow on the dry grass. Adrenaline filled me up like rocket fuel and I scrambled to get up before racing to my car.
Out of nowhere, I was tackled by a strong pair of arms.
“What’s wrong?” Austin shouted, lifting me off the grass.
“Let me go! Let me go!” It was a feral scream, the kind no one wants to hear.
His grip tightened and I kicked him in the shin with my heel so hard that he shouted and my keys fell in the grass. When my teeth sank into his arm, he let go. I snatched my keys and took off again.
My heart was racing and I couldn’t get the key in the lock. “Dammit!” I screamed, my hand trembling.
Austin came up from behind and pressed his entire body against mine, pinning me against the car. His mouth moved against my ear as his right hand reached around, stroking my neck soothingly. “Tell me what’s wrong.” It was that commanding voice again. The one that meant business. I’m sure he could feel my pulse beneath his fingertips because it was out of control.
“My mom; something’s happened. I have to get home. Maizy—she called—I have to go!” I screamed. Austin lifted me off the ground by the waist and hauled me off.
“I’ll drive,” he insisted, walking swiftly to his car.