Page 45 of What They'll Say About Us

She turned to face me. "There wasn't much life outside the theater those last few months. If there was, I didn't know about it. Maybe Nate can tell you more. Or Carrie." She let out a sigh. "I don't have any answers to explain what happened to Paige. And it hurts my heart to think about her. She was the closest person I had to a sister. Do you know how hard it was to live in that apartment without her? To walk by her empty room and see all her things waiting for her? And then I had to watch her parents gather up her things, and her mom was in hysterics. It almost broke me. It took me a long time to stop crying every day. I can't go back to that place. I have a husband and a daughter, and I don't want to bring that darkness into their life. If I could help you, I would. But I can't."

It was impossible not to see the pain in her eyes, but even if I left her alone, I didn't think the police would because she was the closest person to Paige. And it was still possible she knew more than she thought she did.

The back door opened, and an older woman came out with the baby, giving Sloane a wave.

"I'll be right there, Elana," Sloane said, then glanced back at me. "I have to feed Grace."

As the baby started to cry, she hurried across the yard, taking her little girl into her arms and snuggling her with love and tenderness.

I walked toward them, giving her a soft smile. "Your daughter is beautiful. She looks just like you."

"Grace is everything," Sloane said with moisture in her eyes. "She's my world."

"I'm glad you're happy, Sloane. I really am."

"Thanks. I wish I could say I hope I see you again, Tessa, but I'd prefer if you just left me alone."

I didn't bother to tell her that even if I left her alone, the police would probably want to talk to her, but I'd let Detective Barclay deal with that. Right now, I wanted to focus on a couple of clues that Sloane had dropped: Paige had been fighting with Professor Hale in his car, which definitely suggested a closer relationship than teacher-student. Paige had been taking someone else's prescription Adderall, and she'd been spending time with Carrie. Maybe that's where she'd gotten the Adderall. Carrie had also suggested to Sloane that Paige was supposed to go away with someone else that weekend.

Could that possibly have been Hale?

Or could it have been Liam?

Chapter Twelve

As I drove back to the apartment, those questions rattled around in my head, especially the suggestion that Paige really had been sleeping with Hale. I'd told people I thought she was flirting with him to get attention, and that's why she'd gotten the lead, but I'd never actually had any evidence of that. Or had I?

Frowning, I tried to remember what had put that thought into my mind. Hale had certainly spent a lot of time with Paige, instructing her on her performance, giving her tips, praising her choices. But there hadn't always been praise. Sometimes, he'd been critical, and I'd seen a pained look come across Paige's face, as if she was shocked to hear anything but flattery from him. Was that her ego? Or did she feel that whatever relationship they had should have made him go easier on her?

When those questions remained unanswered, I started to wonder about Liam again. I needed to think about it all objectively. But that wasn't easy to do because all my memories were loaded with feelings, some of which I didn't even understand.

Although I had intended to go back to the apartment, I found myself driving through Evanston and back to the West Loop. It was almost one now, and I wasn't sure Liam's bar would be open, but I needed to try to talk to him again. He'd made it clear he didn't want to speak to me, but I had too many questions, and he might be the only one who could answer them.

When I got to the bar, there was a closed sign in the window, but I could see someone moving around inside, so I knocked on the door.

A moment later, a young, friendly guy opened it and gave me a smile. "Sorry. We don't open until four."

"I'm actually looking for Liam. I'm an old friend of his."

"He sure does have pretty friends," the guy said with a smile.

I smiled right back, having learned years ago just how valuable my smile could be. "That's sweet of you to say. Do you know where I can find him?"

"He went upstairs a few minutes ago."

"Upstairs?"

"There's a door and a bell around the side of the building. Give it a ring."

"Thanks." I followed his directions and rang the bell next to the side door. A moment later, a voice came over the intercom.

"Yes?"

"It's Tessa. I need to talk to you."

Silence followed my words. I thought he might not answer me and then the door buzzed. I quickly turned the knob before he changed his mind and stepped into a short hallway. There was a door across from it, which probably opened into the bar, so I jogged up the steps. I didn't have to knock because he'd opened the door and was standing there, looking not at all happy to see me.

His harsh expression reminded me of the last days of our failing relationship. Before that, he'd always greeted me with a sexy, intimate smile. When I'd shown up at his apartment, he'd pull me inside for a kiss that he couldn't seem to wait to get. And then we'd end up in the bedroom where we'd always been very much in sync. Even when we couldn't seem to find the right things to say, our bodies had known how to talk to each other. But those days seemed like a very faint memory now.