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When Carmen smiled at her and started back toward the car, phone returning to the back pocket of the tight jeans Lola was trying very hard not to notice, Lola held her breath. A stupid thing to do. It’s not like getting Carmen’s scent out of her nose was going to fix whatever the hell was happening to her.
Maybe there was something in the water supply. Maybe Fortune’s cult was drugging them all to make them malleable and compliant. No wonder nobody talked about whatever the hell she was getting up to in—
“Okay,” Carmen said when she opened the door and dropped into the driver’s seat. “We got a brother.”
“A brother?”
Carmen smiled again, lips so soft and teeth so straight. “A brother,” she confirmed. “Brett Miller inherited his Richvein Ridge home from his parents. I’m guessing it's Fortune’s childhood home, too. Are you in the mood to ask him?”
Lola hid the fact that she was impressed. The background check hadn’t brought up Richvein Ridge. Fortune — even when she was Susan Miller — had never owned any property there. Never completed school there. Never had a driver’s license. Gotten a ticket. Or mentioned the place on any social media account or interview or blog. There was no way they would have gotten the lead without Carmen’s fake friendliness. The knot grew in size, feeding on Lola’s confusion.
Richvein Ridge was a much bigger town than Redpine, though it was much further than Fortune’s place in the woods. It wasn’t just one main street a few blocks long.
“Street lights,” Carmen said when she rolled into an intersection. “Fancy.”
The GPS took them through an adorable downtown where they’d kept horse hitches in front of what was now a post office and town hall.
“Could you imagine living in a place like this?” Carmen looked impressed. “So much slower. I bet people are all nice to each other.”
Lola furrowed her brow. “God, no.”
Carmen shook her head and turned into a residential area where every house looked different from the next and none of the lots were uniform. It was like people just landed on a spot, put up a fence and decided it was home.
“This is it.” Carmen stopped in front of a small, two-story house that looked like it was leaning on one side. They probably didn’t have code inspectors here.
“You’re not the only one fluent in Google Maps,” Lola replied.
Carmen chuckled instead of snapping back. “Be sure to bring that winning personality in with you to meet Brett. I’m sure he won’t be able to resist your charm.”
Lola bit the inside of her cheek instead of smiling. Carmen always had a comeback. Always had a way to up the ante or change the game. The knot doubled.
Maybe she was dying, Lola decided when she followed Carmen out of the car and up a cracked stone walkway to a front door with a fall wreath that had seen better days. Maybe she’d caught some kind of virus and it was growing in her body and it would soon take over her brain.
Carmen knocked on the faded blue door, paint chipping around the frame. A minute later, it swung open and Carmen pulled out a smile that was entirely too readily accessible. Was she really that good at faking?
A man in his sixties with a receding hairline and a bit of a beer belly returned her smile like they were old friends. Did she just have that effect on everyone?
“Can I help you girls?”
Carmen’s smile was steadfast. “This is going to sound a little strange—”
“It’s about Suzy, isn’t it?” he guessed with a sigh.
Carmen glanced at her with a flicker of panic. What the hell did she expect Lola to do? Showing up at this guy’s door was her idea. Lola didn’t know how the hell to sweet talk a stranger into spilling family secrets. All she could think of was accusing him of being part of the conspiracy and threatening to sue, and she was sure that wasn’t what Carmen was going for.
“I figured someone might come around asking about her sooner or later. Come on in,” he said when they’d been quiet too long.
Lola’s eyes widened, but her feet didn’t move. That was too easy. Maybe this guy meant to chloroform them and throw them in his dungeon basement. He was probably working with Fortune. There was no way getting inside would be so easy.
When Carmen stepped forward, Lola resisted every instinct to grab her arm and pull her back. To drag her to the car and get the hell out of this place.
Instead, she followed Carmen into the house and almost certain death. Without her, she’d probably end up this guy’s basement wife.
Brett led them into a cluttered living room that hadn’t been updated since the early seventies. The shag carpeting probably held all the secrets they were looking for. Seated on an overstuffed, rust orange couch, Lola kept her eyes on all the entryways in the room.
To her surprise, as soon as they declined Brett’s offer of tea and they sat down, Carmen spilled the details of who they were and what they were doing there. Instead of throwing them out, Brett listened and nodded.
“Yeah, my sister definitely took a turn for the eccentric a long time ago,” Brett said, leaning back in his brown and green corduroy armchair. “She was always into mysticism and supernatural stuff, even when we were kids. Started styling herself as a psychic and tarot reader…” He shook his head. “It’s why she had to finish high school in one of those mail away programs. But Suzy just got deeper and deeper into all that hocus pocus. Changed her name, moved away. We didn’t really stay in touch. Last I heard, she opened her retreat. That was maybe fifteen or eighteen years ago now.”
