A text? My mother didn’t text. Heck, I wasn’t even sure she knew how to use the cell phone I’d given her a couple of Christmases ago. Most of the time, she didn’t even have it turned on. Could the text have been from Trey? Car trouble? But why would that upset Lynn? Then I remembered Sean saying he’d text me with updates. Had she seen his text and found out that Dr. Meyers had been arrested? I knew they were friends. Would that have upset her enough to leave?
Then, suddenly, all those niggling doubts came flooding back to me: Lynn’s lack of an alibi, the nails planted in Jodi’s room, Lynn’s incessant bitterness toward Chuck, and something else, too. I’d thought all along it was strange how she’d become chummy with Dr. Meyers so quickly. Lunches out, drinks together, private therapy sessions, and she’d even started calling her Sloan. Nobody else called Dr. Meyers by her first name. Almost as if they’d been friends much longer than they pretended. Then there was the one thing that brought it all together. That day at the Magnolia, when Chuck said he’d just taken a job as part-time maintenance man at the Arts Center. Well, Dr. Meyers wasn’t there, but Lynn was. She was also there to plant the nails in Jodi’s room. And she was missing right before the time they estimated Chuck was killed. Was she the one who’d sabotaged the refrigerator? Zach was right! Lynn was guilty of murder. And so was Dr. Meyers. They were in on it together.
“Lila?” Bentley’s voice cut through my thoughts. She nodded toward the other models, who were heading toward the stage for the final encore. “Aren’t you supposed to be onstage right now?”
I ignored the question and asked a couple of my own. “How did Lynn leave? She doesn’t have a car here. Did someone give her a ride?” But as I asked, the answer came to me: my Vespa!
In the hall, I broke into a wobbly high-heeled jog and burst through the double front doors and out into the cold air, nearly wiping out on the slick asphalt lot. It was gone. My Vespa was gone. And not only did she have my Vespa; she had my purse with my phone, my ID and credit cards, and . . . and my house keys. A desperate, cold-blooded murderer had my house keys!
Fear overcame me as I turned to run back inside for help, each ragged breath of cold air stinging my lungs. What if she was at my home right now? Had Oscar already dropped off Mama? Was she there alone? Or maybe Trey was home from work and watching his favorite television show?
“Lila!” Zach’s voice came out of nowhere. His gloved hands struggled to control Olive’s leash as she pulled him down the walk. “Is everything okay?”
“No. No, it’s not.” I hurriedly explained about Lynn. “She’s got my Vespa, my house keys, everything. I need to get home now.”
Zach reached into his pocket and pulled out his own set of keys. “No problemo. I can get you there in no time. Come on, let’s go.” He picked up Olive, leash and all, and started sprinting toward Bentley’s rental SUV, with me right behind him, wobbling in the strappy sandaled heels to keep up.
He reached the car before me and pushed the key fob to pop the locks. “Get in,” he yelled, sliding open his driver’s door and placing Olive inside.
A couple of seconds later, we were peeling out of the lot. Olive jumped onto my lap with a startled yelp as we accelerated. I gripped the dash with one hand and wrapped my arms protectively around the little dog. Not a moment too soon, either. We hit a speed bump that about took out the bottom half of the car.
“Do you have a cell phone?” I needed to call the police. Get someone over to my house.
Zach loosened his grip on the wheel and made a move for his back pocket. The car suddenly veered too far to the right, nearly sideswiping a parked car.
“Never mind!” I yelled. “Just get me to my house.”
“So, I was right,” Zach said, gripping the steering wheel tighter and hunching forward as he accelerated. “Lynn’s the killer. I knew I’d solve the case!”
“Stop worrying about the case and just focus on the road, would you?” Suddenly he cranked on the wheel, taking a corner at breakneck speed. My arms tightened around Olive, poor thing. She’d buried her head in the crook of my arm and her tiny body was trembling with fear. I thought of telling him to slow down, for Olive’s sake, but I was sick with fear over Mama and Trey. If Lynn had been heading for my house, she could already be there by now.
“You just don’t want to admit that I solved the case before you,” Zach was saying.
“That’s not it,” I said, sliding the other way as he turned again. “I just want to live through this car ride. Besides, you’re only half right.”
“Half right? What do you mean by half right? Did Lynn kill him or not?”
“Dr. Meyers killed Chuck. Lynn just helped her set it up.”
“What? Dr. Meyers?”
“Never mind about all that right now. Just drive.” I began a silent plea inside my head, repeating over and over, Oh, please don’t let them be at home! Please don’t let them be home.
Up ahead, I saw the turnoff for Walden Woods Circle. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself. Suddenly, we came to a screeching halt.