“Tomorrow?” I panicked. “Aren’t you leaving town tonight?”
“Change of plans after I got your message,” Oliver said. “I get what Pratt is up to—she wants to embarrass you by hassling your neighbors, friends, and anyone else until you come in. I wish I had something to distract her. So far McCormick got zilch on Forrest Huber.”
“Nick and I found an interesting piece of information off Herrick Schelz’s visitor list at the Indiana State Prison. His daughter lived five miles from Jarret’s hometown.”
“That is interesting,” Oliver said. “And I guess you called the prison all by yourself and they gladly gave you the list? Man, those Midwest folks are cooperative.”
“We may have had some outside help.”
“What a surprise. The next time you have a family crime powwow on this case, invite me,” Oliver said.
“How did you—?”
“Kitty Kirkland told me all about your bent for solving murders.” Oliver’s tone shifted to grave. “I’m warning you—be careful where you poke, kid. A twisted sicko murdered once, the second kill will be easier. What kind of trouble are you into tonight?”
“I’m having dinner with Jarret. I want him to explain why he put me in the middle of this mess.”
“Don’t go. Meet me at my office tomorrow at ten and we’ll drive to the station together. You know how to reach me before then.”
I turned off my phone and released a deep sigh.
“Start from the top,” Nick said as he stopped the car in my driveway.
“Oliver and I are meeting Carla at the station at eleven.” My throat knotted with apprehension. “The plumber is coming tomorrow as a favor. Now I have to cancel. What if Carla decides to hold me? What about my clients on Monday? What about Erzulie? My house? My…”
The lump in my throat escalated into a burn behind my eyes. Without warning, tension from the past three days poured out in tears streaming down my cheeks.
Nick got out of the car. He walked around to my door, coaxing me out with a gentle hand, then led me into the house. Leaving me sniffling with a box of tissues in the living room, he came back with a glass of water. “Drink this.”
Puffy-eyed and spent, I took a sip.
“Pack a suitcase,” he said. “You and Erzulie are spending the weekend with me. I have a working shower and bathtub. I’ll meet the plumber here in the morning and stay while you’re at the station.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” I said.
“I don’t have to.” He stroked my hair. “I know you’re tough. I love that about you. But when you’re vulnerable and you let go like this? Try to stop me.”
Erzulie hopped on the couch between us and nudged my hand with her head.
“See?” Nick said. “Even she agrees with me.”
I blew my nose, laughing. “I’m pretty sure she just wants her dinner.”
Nick trailed me into the kitchen. As I pulled a green can of seafood stew from the cupboard, he said, “Before Oliver called, you were going to tell me how Forrest Huber could have tracked Laycee all over town Tuesday night.”
Erzulie hopped on the countertop and watched me peel the lid off her can of food. “Laycee never went anywhere without her phone. Forrest knew her password. All he had to do was log into her mobile account and click on ‘Find My Phone.’ A GPS map opens to the phone’s location, down to street level. He didn’t have to leave his hotel room to locate her.”
“And this works for any phone?”
“Pretty much. One of my patients calls it the Cheater-Beater. You know my password. Try it. Find me.”
I set Erzulie’s food on the floor and refreshed her water while Nick typed into his phone.
He held up the satellite map with a blue dot on the roof of my house. “There you are. Outstanding. Tell me—how can you be so certain Forrest knew her password?”
“Laycee was a technical klutz. Forrest bought and set up all of her equipment, including her passwords.”
I went upstairs, packed for the weekend, and brought my bag to the door as Nick coaxed Erzulie into her carrier with ease. Sure. Whenever I brought out the carrier, she dove under the bed. Nick merely picked her up, scratched her head, and slid her into the cage. He carried her out to the car without so much as a whimper and then returned for my suitcase.
We shared an awkward moment at the door—nothing like sending off my boyfriend before I got ready to meet my ex.
“Do you have cat food?” I said, unwilling to let him go yet.
“I’ll pick some up.”
“Should I call you when I’m done?”
“Just come over.”
“Want me to bring you dinner?”
“Don’t bother.” Nick pecked me lightly on the forehead and turned to leave.
I pulled him back and into my arms for a kiss he wouldn’t forget. A lot of groping. A lot of promise.
He came up for air, chuckling. “What was that for?”
“To hold my place,” I said.