“He got in touch with Randall and told him. I guess he thought it might soothe Randall’s grief to know I was out there. But Randall never contacted me. And Daddy said they never talked again. But before the ambulance got there, he told me I was in danger.”
“Danger, how?”
She shakes her head. “He didn’t say. You have to understand that I’m cleaning this conversation up. He was in pain. In and out of consciousness. He was talking, but a lot of it was nonsense. I think the only thing keeping him going was worry about me. It was hard to figure what he was saying. And I was scared and woozy, too. But a couple of things stood out. He said that Randall had a private attorney. A friend. And that I needed to talk to him. He said it was vital. He even used that word.”
“What’s his name?”
“He never said.”
I return with the water, then sit on the arm of Ryan’s chair.
She takes a sip before continuing. “I asked over and over, but…well, I don’t think he could remember. He only said I had to talk to the lawyer. And that I had to be careful. And he said that I should find you,” she adds to Ryan. “That you’d do for me what you did for Felicia. And then…and then he was gone.”
A single tear tracks down her cheek, and she closes her eyes before continuing. “I had no idea how to find you, so I started with Google. And it wasn’t hard. You were there. And the really wild thing was that I learned you two were married,” she adds, with a nod to me. “I found Nikki’s number and called her and said I wanted to surprise you. And I asked for Ryan’s work number so I could set up this fake surprise through him.”
“Why not call me?” I ask.
“It was such a weird coincidence that I guess I felt awkward. It’s been a lot of years. Plus, I’d seen online that Ryan was in London, and I was here, too. I’d come over after the accident because I figured whoever had run us off the road wouldn’t expect me to hide all the way across the ocean.”
She downs the rest of her water. “Also, I wanted to see where I was born.”
“You went to Randall’s townhouse,” Ryan says, and it’s not a question. “Did you talk to your uncle?”
“I wanted to. I thought about it. But I chickened out.”
I nod in understanding, then try to get us back on thread. “So you got Ryan’s work number from Nikki and sent a text, right?”
“Right. I’d gotten spooked. I was sure someone was following me, and when there was a break-in at the B&B I was staying at, I completely freaked out. I switched to a cheap hotel, and that’s when I got up the nerve to text Ryan.” She shrugs. “I only knew that it was a work line. I didn’t know if a text would even go through. But I tried that first because I was too scared to actually call.”
She looks between me and Ryan. “But you answered, and I was incredibly relieved. And we were going to meet at that pub.”
“In the text, you told me that I’d helped you before. Why?”
“I didn’t think you’d show for a stranger. And if you thought I was Felicia when you first saw me, I figured you’d at least stay.”
“But you never showed.”
She swallows. “I chickened out.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because of what Daddy said. About how you’d do the same for me as you did for Felicia. I—he’d told me the story about how you went down there and married her and tried to save her. But he was messed up. He was really bad. There was so much blood…”
We both give her a moment to collect herself, then I gently say, “Go on.”
“I was afraid. His last words were find the lawyer, find Felicia’s husband, be careful. And I was confused because before he’d said you’d helped her. Maybe I’d misunderstood and he was trying to warn me away. Because what if you’d hurt Felicia? What if you were the one who wanted to hurt me?”
“That’s why you didn’t show,” Ryan says.
“I left a note.” She shrugs. “Later, I called Nikki back and that’s when I learned that Jamie was coming in. And I figured I could get with Jamie and get a sense of you. Of whether you’d help me.”
“Except you’re forgetting about how you tried to get me back to the pub. The same day you met Jamie. Why did you pull another no-show? And why did you sign that text with an F for Felicia?”
Gabby’s brow furrows. “But—what? I didn’t.”
“Do not fuck with me,” Ryan says, then pulls out his phone. He swipes to the text I saw—the one that sent me over the edge—and he shoves the phone at her.
Her eyes widen as she reads, then she looks between both of us, hunching in on herself so that she seems like a terrified rabbit. “I didn’t send that,” she says. “I swear.” She grapples for the small backpack she probably uses as a purse. “Here. You can look for yourself. I—oh. I forgot. This one’s new.”
“Nice try,” Ryan says. “But we have your old one.” He pulls it out of his interior pocket and opens the texting app and the burner app.
“You texted Jamie from the primary phone number. You texted me from a virtual number.”
She nods. “Yes. So? I told you. I was being careful. What’s wrong?” she asks, and I turn to look at Ryan, who’s scrolling through the phone.
“It’s not here. The other texts between us are, but not that one. I…” He trails off and then lifts his head, looking right at her. “You could have deleted it before you tossed the phone.”
“I don’t even know what it is,” she counters, but I don’t think he hears her. He’s working something out, and he’s entirely in his own head.
It takes a moment, but he finally looks up. “Earlier today, in our texts, I called you Felicia.”
She nods.
“Why didn’t you correct me?”
“You texted me first. I didn’t want to go off on that tangent. I just wanted to know if you were going to help me. I regretted running when I saw you. But I was unprepared then.”
“You never sent any texts specifically saying you’re Felicia?”
“I swear, no.” Her eyes are wide. She looks completely earnest. And I hold my breath, unsure where any of this is going. “I don’t know how you got that text, but—”
“It’s okay,” he says, looking straight at Gabby. “I do.”
Chapter Seventeen
“You do?” Jamie asked, staring at him. “How?”
“Someone either cloned her phone or is spoofing a number. Wouldn’t be too hard.”
“Really?” Gabby said, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I figured you could track me—because of your job, I mean—but I never thought of that. You honestly think so?”
“If someone is trying to hurt you, I think you’re always better off assuming that they have a lot of resources. You’ve been lucky.”
“But here’s the real question,” Jamie said. “Why?”
Gabby shrugged. “I wish I knew, and God knows I’ve thought about it nine ways from Sunday because once I knew someone was trying to kill me, I was desperate to figure out why. I mean, hey. I read a lot of mystery novels.”