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“Hello,” she said now as she answered the phone, not recognizing the number from Caller ID. She glanced at the clock. Late afternoon and almost dark as pitch outside already. As if aware she’d noticed, the heavens suddenly opened up and spewed rain, then hail, a storm of precipitation blasting outside her window. It was awesome in its power but it just meant that the dog wasn’t going to want to go for a walk.
“Becca?
It’s Renee.”
“Oh, hey.” She sat up straighter. Did Renee know about her night with Hudson? It had been just a few days since they’d tumbled together in his bed. Since that time they’d been on the phone several times a day. It was thrilling. Unbelievable.
“I’ve just been feeling so weird about all of this, I guess,” Renee was saying, echoing Becca’s own thoughts. “About Jessie and those bones and all. I just wish we’d find out once and for all if the body belonged to Jessie.”
“I know.” She thought about the presence she’d felt in the maze and wondered if she should tell Renee. At the time the pure, unfiltered evil had seemed all too real. Even now, goose bumps raised on her arms and she looked hurriedly over her shoulder.
“Have you heard that McNally-the cop that was so into Jessie’s disappearance years ago-has been interviewing the guys?” Renee asked, her voice sounding edgier than usual. “He stopped by Blue Note to talk to Glenn and Scott, then called The Third at his office downtown. McNally already left a message on my phone. I called back but missed him.”
Becca’s fingers tightened over her cell. “Then they know it’s Jessie,” she said. “DNA must’ve come back or some other proof that the body is hers.”
“That’s what I think, too. God…it’s hard to believe.” She paused for a second, then said, “I thought maybe we should get together again.”
“All of us?”
“The girls. Actually, I’m already meeting Vangie and Tamara at Java Man after work. Around seven.”
Another meeting? For what? Because the police were sniffing around? So what? It almost sounded as if Renee wanted them all to get their stories straight, which was ridiculous. No one had anything to hide.
Right?
“What about Hudson…and Zeke?” Becca asked. “Did they get a call from the police?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but I haven’t talked to Hudson in a few days and Vangie didn’t say anything about Zeke when I called her. I think she would have. Anyway, it doesn’t matter if they have or not. They’ve got to be on the list. I’m sure we all are.”
“List? As in suspects?”
“Or persons of interest, whatever you want to call it. So, about tonight…can you make it?”
“I’ll be there.”
Becca hung up, then clicked off her computer. She double-checked all the doors and windows, then changed into a red cowl-necked sweater and added some lip gloss. Glancing at her watch, she turned on the news, wasting another half hour before she headed out. There was talk about discovery of an unidentified woman’s body, and Becca zeroed in on the newscaster. But it appeared to be that this particular body had been thrown from her car following an accident. Nothing to do with Jessie Brentwood.
“Of course not,” she said aloud, annoyed with herself. She grabbed her raincoat and bundled herself inside. There were other accidents and crimes out there. The world was huge. Just because her group of friends was affected by the remains found in the maze didn’t mean the discovery wasn’t already yesterday’s news. Maybe they would never know the identity of the bones for sure. Maybe this limbo they’d been living would continue just as it was.
With a sigh, she sent up a silent prayer for resolution.
Chapter Twelve
Becca drove to Java Man with one eye on the rearview mirror, but none of the cars behind her seemed to have any interest in following her. Once parked, she flipped up the hood of her jacket, and hurrying through the rain, she caught sight of her friends through the window. Tamara’s red curls burned under Java Man’s lights. Evangeline’s blond paleness was even more ashen; she looked washed out to the point of illness. And Renee’s face was pinched, her dark hair untidy, as if she’d been running her hands through her brunette strands over and over again.
“Sorry I’m late,” Becca greeted them all, shaking excess water onto a mat by the door. “I was all set, wasting time actually, then suddenly I’m behind.”
“We ordered you a decaf latte. That all right?” Renee asked, indicating a steaming, foaming cup.
“Works for me.”
“Coffee first, then wine,” Tamara said.
Becca slid into the empty seat next to Renee, which left her across from Evangeline and catty-corner from Tamara. Everyone was more sober now, more careful than they had been at Blue Note, as if a current of tension was making them cautious. And Renee looked as if she’d dropped five pounds in less than a week.
“So, what’s up?” Becca asked, sipping her latte.
The corners of Renee’s mouth turned downward as she twirled her cup around and around again. “I think something’s going on. Something more than what we’re seeing.” She was picking her words carefully, as if afraid to panic them. “And I think we’re all in danger at some level.”
