"It was only a short drive. Keep it for yourself," she said warmly.
"Please take it. Consider it a down payment for future rides.”
I ignored the ebbing embarrassment deep in my bones. If I weren't such a lush, I could drive myself as I galavanted across Keygate. I pushed away the thoughts. I could dwell in self-pity later. Now wasn't the time.
"Oh, all right. If you insist. Have a good night, dear," Sandy said.
"You too.” I exited the vehicle and waved goodbye. She waited until I reached the front door before driving away. I rummaged through my clutch trying to find the house key. After a moment, I caught it tucked in my wallet.
I unlocked the door as quietly as I could and stepped inside. A lamp in the kitchen remained on with enough glow to illuminate the downstairs. I crept into the kitchen to pour myself another drink. My parents wouldn't mind; they rarely made drinks for themselves. It was mostly for company's sake. I tipped the vodka over a few cubes of ice. I thought about what I'd use as a mixer, but my phone buzzed.
Jake texted me.
Are you home yet, woman?
Two minutes, I replied.
Deciding against a mixer, I tucked my phone in my pocket. As cautiously as a mouse, I traipsed up the stairs to my room, pausing every few steps for signs my parents were awake. Finally, I reached the bedroom and closed the door behind me. A mixture of excitement and anxiety rippled through my body. Sweat trickled down the small of my back. Jake found something. And soon, I'd know what he discovered too.
I set the glass of vodka on my nightstand before I kicked off my shoes in the corner of the room. It didn't take long for my bedroom to appear as if I'd never left. Clothes were strewn about, and my bed was messy.
I crawled into bed with my laptop and phoned Jake through Skype. Before he answered, I took a few seconds to rub away the smeared eyeliner under my eyes. I fluffed my hair a bit to add some last-minute volume.
Jake appeared, and his goofy grin smiled back at me. "Hey, woman. Took you long enough.”
"Sorry, I was out with some friends." Another lie. It was scary how easily they rolled off my tongue these days.
"You look pretty," he said.
My cheeks reddened, and I hoped it wasn't obvious via the video call. "Whatcha got for me? Did you find anything good?”
"What? No small talk? No, 'How have you been Jake?’" he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "How have you been, Jake?”
He tossed his head back in laughter. "You're so cute when you're sarcastic. Your guy is a lucky man.”
My body froze, turning rigid. Jake still didn't know, and I didn't want to be the one to tell him. Alternatively, I took a long draw from my vodka. I desperately wanted time to speed up and thrust me out of this moment. It was difficult enough living with my grief without having to explain it too.
Sensing the awkwardness permeating the space between us, Jake cleared his throat. "So, I found that site you said your girl was on. Pretty racy stuff, huh? Anyway, I was able to work my magic," he said, rubbing his hands together. "And, I got into their database. I located the subscribers to Callie's page, including their IP addresses. She had a few hundred subs. Most of them were from around the world, but a handful were from Keygate by the looks of their IPs.”
I nodded, still able to follow along, but hoping he wouldn't lose me. I could hold my own in the ever-changing tech world, but that didn't mean I was a wiz with the hacking world too.
"And?" My heart thumped inside my chest. Visions of hands around Callie's throat invaded my mind. I wondered if Jake could smooth away the perpetrator's blurry face and bring his identity into view.
"One IP address piqued my interest," he said with a devilish grin.
My breathing increased while my body stiffened and my jaw clenched tightly. I felt as though I would explode unless he told me what he'd found right this very moment.
"And?" I blurted again.
"You're not going to believe who the address belongs to," he teased.
I sipped my drink, not realizing that only a few drops of vodka remained. My head buzzed as the room spun for a moment, but only a moment.
"Tell me!" I wanted to reach through the computer and shake the answer out of my old friend.
"Peter Williams, the richest man in Keygate.”
My jaw dropped, and if I were in a cartoon, it would have slammed against the floor with my tongue spilling out like a red carpet.
A memory lit up inside my mind. Noah told me that Peter often frequented the strip club in town. Could it really be him?
"Are you sure it's his IP address?" I asked, my stomach queasy.
"One hundred percent positive," Jake confirmed. "You think he had something to do with that girl's death?”
"I don't know, but right now, it's my only solid lead. Thanks, Jake.”
Without a proper goodbye, I slammed the laptop closed. I sat in silence while various scenarios whizzed through my mind. What was the wealthiest man in Keygate doing on Callie's profile? Did his wife know he interacted with women online? Suspicion rose in my gut while hope nuzzled its way in too.
I had a fresh lead to work. Tomorrow, I'd visit Peter. My old friend and a possible murderer.
Twenty-Two
The following morning, I woke to the sun shining through my window. My head pounded fiercely. Sweat reeking of booze pooled at my temples and soaked my tank top. I tossed and turned all night long. Thinking of Callie. Dying to know who killed her. Wondering if I'd ever find out.
I peeled myself out of bed to see a bottle of water, two Advil and a note on my nightstand.
Jack and I will be gone for the day. Help yourself to fresh blueberry muffins downstairs. Feel better, xo
How did my mom know I'd wake up with a hangover? Did she know how much I was drinking? My cheeks reddened while I massaged my temples.
Riddled with shame, I stalked toward the bathroom to take a shower and removed my bed clothes, tossing them aside. I yawned, then stepped inside the shower. For a moment, I gazed at the hot and cold faucets. Then, without any thought, I turned on the cold water with no intentions of evening it out with the hot water.
The frigid water stabbed at my back, but after a minute or so, my body adjusted. I stood there, shivering a bit, wondering why my life had gone amiss. Why did this happen to me? Why was I the one to lose my fiancé? Why was I so weak that, after his loss, I quit my dream job and career? I was a tough woman, born from the ashes once I'd started anew. Why couldn't I bring myself to start fresh again?
Grief. That was why. I missed Zac terribly. Even today, walking, if I saw a man who carried even a touch of Zac's likeness, part of me wondered if it was him. Even though I knew he wasn't coming back, part of me hoped he was only on the other side of the street, and he'd turn around, see me and smile.
But he wasn't coming back. Ever. The sooner I made sense of it, the faster I'd allow myself to heal. If only it were that easy.
Closing my eyes, I reveled in the freezing water against my spine. Maybe it would wake me up, and not just from sleep, but from life.
My stomach growled as the idea of homemade blueberry muffins ravaged my mind. I eased out of the shower, my bones and joints not quite ready for the day. As much as I wanted to throw on yoga pants and a soft, cozy t-shirt, I put on a pair of jeans with a clean, white button-up top. As soon as I finished breakfast, I planned to go to Peter's office across town and speak to him.