Page 173 of No Headlines Please

I returned my gaze to the phone. Maybe Delaney needed help – a stuck suitcase or a spider that needed killing. Or maybe she just wanted to talk.

Screw it.

I pressed the screen to call her back.

She answered immediately with a whispered, "Hello?"

It made me whisper, too. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She hesitated. "Well…maybe."

My grip tightened on the phone. "What?"

"I'm really curious about something. And I can't sleep."

Funny, I was curious, too. What was she wearing? What wasn't she wearing? Was her hair tousled against the pillow?

I whispered, "Curious about what?"

"My car."

"It's perfectly safe. I had it moved to a private garage." I smiled in the darkness. "Don't worry, okay?"

"I'm not worried. And I don't mean right now. I meant a few months ago when I left Chicago. Something really funny happened with my car."

Oh.

Right.

I said nothing, shifting onto my back as I slid an arm behind my head.

After a moment, Delaney continued. "When I went back to the parking garage – you know, by that hotel that wouldn't let me check in – I'm almost positive the car was in a different spot."

"Nope."

Sounding amused, she whispered, "And how would you know?"

I knew, because I'd been clear in my instructions. After the car's alarm was fixed, I'd asked Cal to make sure the vehicle was returned to the same spot they'd found it.

This hadn't been the original plan. I'd meant to have it moved to the garage connected to Tessa's building. But with Delaney and I on the outs, the last thing I'd wanted was to announce that I'd relocated her car – and without permission.

Still, I wasn't buying what she'd just said about the car showing up in a different spot. Cal was no slouch.

Even if the exact spot hadn't been available, he would've parked it close enough so Delaney wouldn't notice.

And yet, apparently, she had. Why?

On the phone, she whispered, "I know you're still there. I can hear you breathing."

I almost laughed. "No, you can't."

"Alright, fine. Technically, I can't hear you, but I'm pretty sure you are."

"Breathing?" I shifted in the sheets. "Only pretty sure?"

"Well, you're not dead, are you?"

Again, I smiled. "Not that I know of."