Page 52 of Gorgeous Misery

“OK. Well. Let’s start here. Do you know who I’m talking about? Or does that depend on something too?”

“Wendy?… Wendy?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m God. No, really. Listen. You’re wasting time here. Why are you talking to me? There are clues all around you. Look for them, for fuck’s sake.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re looking for Nick? Well, I’m looking for him too. Look around, find some answers, and then you can call me back.”

He hangs up.

I let out a long breath and replace the receiver. Well, he was an asshole. And all of that was weird.

Who the hell is that guy? He’s not anyone I recognize. Not Adam, or McKay, and we all know it’s not Donovan.

We, Wendy? You’re the only one here.

Right. Check the insanity, OK? Pull it together.

I suck in a breath and blink my eyes a few times, trying to understand what’s happening. Because this whole trip is weird. Why am I even here?

I look up and scan the room, then salute Nick’s probable hidden cameras with my middle finger. “Fuck you. I’m leaving.”

The phone rings before the last word is even out of my mouth.

I pick it up. “What?”

“You’re not leaving. You’re looking for clues. Find them and call. Me. Back.” He hangs up.

So he’s the one looking through the hidden cameras.

Got it.

I give him the one-finger salute again and then turn towards the door fully intending on getting the hell out of here, but then I see something else that’s interesting.

An answering machine on the kitchen counter. And there’s a blinking number four on the tiny digital screen.

I can’t stop the chuckle. Only Nick Tate would keep a landline with an answering machine. This is probably a clue, and that bastard voice is probably dying for me to press play so he can hear what’s on there, so this is usually where I do things just to piss people off. Things like not pressing play on that machine. Not listening to whatever’s on there. And not giving a single fuck about the consequences.

But I gotta know.

I can’t help myself.

I walk over to it and press play.

“You have four new messages. Message one…”

“Don’t forget to schedule the jobs in Florida. And maybe even Alabama.”

Beeeeeeep.

“Next message…”

I press stop. That was definitely Nick. And that message was what? A to-do list? What jobs? Did I know about jobs in Florida and Alabama? He used to have a place on the Dog River, but that’s Mississippi. And Adam does not like Nick doing anything that close to Louisiana. So what the fuck was this about?

I press play again.