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She wanted to believe that the quiet meant her instincts had been wrong. That Kim’s death had been a random, terrible act and her killer was no threat to any of them. But there was a tension growing in her mind, a weight centered in her chest and digging a trench between her shoulder blades, that told her something was coming. Detective Chen had no leads no matter how often she called to check and every day that nothing happened seemed to push them all closer to the day that something would.
Eloise went into the office early and left late, managing to avoid Sarah and Chloe entirely by eating lunch at her desk. They sent her a few texts to ask where she was when she didn’t show up for their usual cafe lunch plans, but she brushed them aside, making excuses about needing to do more paperwork or not feeling well. The truth was, she just couldn’t face another conversation with them like the last one. She might have understood why they looked at her with that glint of suspicion in their eyes, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to accept it.
Besides, she had enough on her mind without them adding to it.
Ethan had been withdrawn since their trip to the bar and she’d let him pull away. She’d been irritated by the insulting comments Dylan had managed to interject into the conversation at every turn but the bartender had upset her the most. It didn’t take any kind of sixth sense to know jealousy when it hit you in the face and the woman might as well have done exactly that during their brief interaction.
Eloise hadn’t caught her name—Ethan had been painfully obvious in not introducing them—but she was young and pretty. More than that, she was blatantly sexy in a way that made Eloise feel bland in comparison. She had looked at them sourly when they’d come in together and had taken the first opportunity she saw to lean over the bar, eyes full of malice, and tell Eloise that she was nothing more than a replacement. A poor substitute for what she’d had with Ethan only a few months before. She’d broken up with him, she’d explained, and Eloise was simply a convenient rebound.
It had hit her right in every insecurity she had, knocking the breath out of her and leaving her numb and reeling for several long seconds. She’d glanced at Ethan—wishing perhaps to find the truth of his feelings for her spelled out in the air above him—and found him already rising to his feet with the expression of an avenging angel. It had steadied her and given her strength enough in the moment to simply smile and walk away.
It seemed likely that Ethan had been in some sort of relationship with her and now that it was over she had a chip on her shoulder and had decided to direct all of her anger at Eloise, even though only the bartender had even known the two of them were in some sort of competition. That was irritating but, in Eloise’s opinion, the woman’s own problem to deal with.
What bothered her more was Ethan’s lack of warning. She didn’t expect him to have been a saint before she met him, but if he was going to take her around a former lover, it would have been nice if he had let her know in advance. He could have given her a chance to prepare herself instead of springing it on her in the form of venomous glances shot her way across a bar that was definitely not neutral ground.
The bar was her space, not Eloise’s. She looked comfortable and at home in her tight-fitting red top and snug jeans, where Eloise had felt out of place as soon as they’d walked inside. She’d made an effort to be casual with jeans and flat, black shoes but she’d still been instantly at odds with the worn bar top and scuffed floors. The sweet scent of her floral perfume had curdled when it met the stale smell of cigarette smoke and spilled beer.
Ethan had slid right in, impossibly far beyond her grasp even as he sat beside her with his hand on her thigh. She’d thought she could pull him away from Dylan, make him see that whatever the two of them were up to, it wasn’t worth the risk. She’d been a fool and learning that lesson had been humiliating.
It had hit her then, sitting in a corner booth of a mostly empty bar she never would have been in without him, that perhaps she had been nothing more than a distraction for him while he was healing. Maybe he’d never intended to let it be anything more than that. He’d warned her, hadn’t he? That he didn’t do long term commitments? She’d been grateful for that, worried about her own feelings getting too strong, but now the thought left her bereft.
She’d felt herself start to slip but that had confirmed it in a way that made it bigger and more frightening. When he’d pulled back, started creating space between them, she hadn’t asked for an explanation or tried to hold him closer. He should have been relieved by that, but more than once she’d caught him ending a conversation with something that seemed like disappointment in his voice.
Well, that was just fine with her. Let him be disappointed. She had better things to do and more important things to worry about. No sense in letting him tie her up in knots when he could wake up and decide tomorrow that he’d rather be spending time with a pretty bartender. In fact, it would be best for everyone involved if he did exactly that.
That’s what she told herself, anyway, as she watched him get on his bike and drive away. He hadn’t said as much but she knew he was headed to the bar, back to Dylan and whatever the two of them were cooking up. Not that she cared.
She didn’t.
Really.
Winston nudged her leg and she looked down to find him staring up at her with a look that could only be described as judgmental. It was like he could hear what she was thinking and knew it was a lie she was trying to tell herself.
“Nobody asked you,” she mumbled, bending to give him a soft pat as her phone began to ring. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
He huffed, unimpressed, and flopped down at her feet as she looked at her phone screen and saw Chloe’s name displayed. Her finger hovered and paused over the screen. It was tempting not to answer, but loyalty won out over the tension of the past few weeks.
“Hello?” She was met with the sound of muffled sobs, breathless and panicked in her ear.
“Hello? Chloe? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
“Eloise?”
“I’m here.” Eloise pressed the phone to her ear and tried to hear the words mingled amongst the crying. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Someone was here,” Chloe managed to say. “They broke into my apartment. I think they’re gone but ...”
“I’m coming,” Eloise promised. She was already stuffing her feet into her shoes, scrambling around the living room looking for her keys. “Hang up and call the cops, okay? Get inside and close the doors until someone gets there.”
“I tried to close the front door, but they kicked it in, and the lock doesn’t work. I can’t believe this is happening.” She hiccupped hard and sucked in a new sob. “This wasn’t supposed to …Why would they come here?”
“Can you go to the neighbor’s? Lock yourself in your car?”
“The car ...”
“Go to the car and call the police.”
“Please don’t hang up.” The fear in Chloe’s voice was palpable and Eloise wondered if this was how she had sounded to the 911 operator. Wild and panicked, searching for anyone who could save her?
