Page 98 of A Little Taste


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“You see it now. That’s what matters.” Edna’s hand is on my shoulder.

“What matters is finding her before it’s too late.”

Pushing off my knees, I walk slowly in a line from my desk to the door of Edna’s office and back. How can we not have a single lead?

“We’re going to get a breakthrough.” Edna walks to where I’m standing in front of her door. “We have to have faith.”

Shaking my head, I look down. “I lost that years ago.”

She places her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze. “It’s not too late to find it again.” Passing me, she walks into her office and turns on her computer. “I’ve put out feelers in a few online groups. Something’s going to turn up. It’s impossible to hide in this community, especially for someone as flamboyant as Stan Roswell.”

I hope she’s right. I hope one of the million things we’re trying turns up a lead. Doug has spent the last two days with EMS, sifting through rural addresses from Hilton Head to Charleston. The guys in Beaufort traced the email Gwen received to a coffee shop near Rockville.

All we can do is hope for something to pop, and the waiting is torture.

The front door opens, and Holly walks in with a box of donuts. Gwen is behind her, and when I’m not pissed at seeing her, it hits me how much our relationship has changed.

“Anything new?” She comes to where I’m standing, and I shake my head no.

With that one word, her legs seem to give out. I catch her, helping her sit in Doug’s nearby chair, and when I see tears streaming down her cheeks, it hits me unexpectedly hard.

“We’re going to find her.” My voice is rough, and I close my eyes, summoning every lost bit of faith I can find. Trying again with more force, I repeat. “We are going to find her, Gwen.”

“I thought the reading was for him.” Her hands tremble as she uses a cotton handkerchief to blot her cheeks. “I thought it was for Gary, but it was for her.”

Holly walks over with a glazed donut in a paper napkin. “Donut?”

Gwen shakes her head, but I catch her shoulder. “What are you talking about? What reading?”

“The day she came to talk to me, I did a reading for Gary, for what was coming. It said chaos, betrayal, and death, and I interpreted it to mean his life was in chaos, he betrayed Stan, which led to his murder. I was wrong. It was for her. Eureka was in chaos, and I convinced her to betray you. Then—”

“Stop.” My voice snaps, fueled by desperation. “Britt is not going to die. We’re not going to let that happen. We’re going to find her.”

“Yes, we are!” Edna rushes into the room, and we both turn to face her. “I’ve got a lead. Gwen, do you remember Belinda Laurent?”

“The lady in the box?” Her lip curls in disgust. “I thought she moved to Tampa.”

“She did, but she’s in Charleston this weekend. She agreed to meet me at the Starbucks on Highway 17 in Green Pond.”

I’m on my feet. “Let’s go.”

* * *

A lineof cars wraps around the lone Starbucks in the tiny community named after the algae in a nearby body of water. They’re all waiting for the drive-through, but we park and head inside where a woman in a large, burgundy wig, a white lace shirt, and a black leather biker jacket, sits with a cup of tea at a small table.

Her eyes lift to us, but they immediately narrow when they land on Gwen.

“I thought I was meeting with Edna.” She sounds like a longtime smoker, and her large bosom stretches her shirt as she stands.

“She couldn’t make the drive, so you’re meeting with me.” Gwen’s tone is sharp, and I can tell these two have a history.

“I’m not wasting my time talking to crazy people.” Belinda scoots between the chair and the table, attempting to leave.

“What’s a few more minutes?” Gwen taunts, sitting across from the chair Belinda vacated. “You spent years working with one.”

“Can we take it down a bit?” I glare at Gwen as I reach for Belinda’s elbow. “We came all this way, would you at least talk to me?”

Her gaze to this point has been narrowed on Gwen, but she looks up at me now, and her brown eyes widen. They circle my face before tracing down my chest to my waist and lower, and I feel pretty much objectified. Whatever it takes to find Britt.

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