“No need. I’ll be moving to Pittsburg soon enough. Try to ask the front desk in the fall. Wait until I’m long gone, would you?”
Moving. I stare at him a good long while as I feel the window closing in on my opportunity to kick his ass. The lawyer in me says let it go. After all, he’s thrown me more than my fair share of bones, and I still need to pick through them.
“Will do. Good luck with the move. And sorry about your friend.”
“No worries. I’m not.”
I take off and sit in my car a while. Craig Carter isn’t sorry about Barry’s death. Neither is his own sister—the one sitting on a pile of money now that he’s dead. Serena made it sound as if Belinda Johnson, the yoga instructor, wasn’t too sorry either.
I pull out my phone and text her.
You busy?I pepper it with every emoji under the sun in an effort to try to get her attention before I hit send. The last thing I want her to think is that this is some kind of a booty call. Do people still saybooty call? My God, how I would love it to be a booty call, but right about now, I just need her safe. Besides, it feels good to know that I can talk to Serena, have her attention at the drop of a hat each and every day. I need that. I need her. My insides swim at the revelation. I need Serena. I care about her.Deeply.
She texts right back.At work, taking a quick break. I see your emoji game is strong. What’s up?
I can’t help but smile. I start in and spill every last detail about my visit with Craig Carter and wait for her response.
The dancing ellipses light up as she writes.
Pittsburg?
Of all the things she pulled out of that conversation, she chose that.
Does Pittsburg ring any bells?I shoot back. I know it does, or she would have simply noted he was leaving town.
No. Nothing at all.
Guilty. We make small chitchat, and I tell her I’ll see her in a bit.
Serena knows something. She’s hiding something from me. I shake my head wistfully as I make my way back onto the main road. That’s what I love about her. She’s forever keeping me on my toes.
Love about her?
My adrenaline fires up ten times stronger than it did when I thought Craig Carter was about to drive that hatchet through my forehead.
“Wow,” I say as I come to a complete stop.
I’m in love with Serena Maxfield.
And just like that, it feels as if a weight has lifted off my chest.
I’m in love with Serena.
Well, I’ll be damned.
And as soon as Marlin finds out what I’ve been doing with his sweet baby sis, I will be just that.
I Love You to Death
Serena
Pittsburg!
Gah! I knew it. I knew, knew,knewit. As soon as Shep mentioned it, I pictured Craig—who up until now was simply known to me as Dirty Dude Number Two—nevertheless, I pictured him boot scootin’ his way out of town with Hannah Johnson. Hannah was the head bitter bride who was there the night of the murder. It makes sense. Once Shep and I discovered that Barry was her infamous ex, it shined a bright bitter light over why she might want him shot dead in an alley. Doesn’t every jilted bride want her good-for-nothing betrothed to be bumped off the planet in a violent and perhaps humiliating manner? Okay, soshedid the jilting but still. There is murderous intent buried in there somewhere nonetheless.
That’s exactly why as soon as I put killer and killer together, I signed up for a gym membership—and for the very next yoga class that Hannah’s shady sister, Belinda, will be teaching so I can pump her for more homicidal info. I tried to google Hannah to pinpoint her locale but couldn’t seem to do it. I figured I had gleaned so much info from Belinda the first time without putting in a real effort, I’d try my luck again before I gave in and took the info to the police.
“Hot yoga?” Harley looks as if she’s about to lynch me. Her dark hair is swept up into a perky ponytail, and she’s got the requisite yoga mat tucked under her arm. Unlike me, Harley actually participates in the sport—wait, is yoga a sport? Unsure—and uncertain I actually care. That’s not the point. The point is, we’ve both donned our yoga pants and tank tops for the occasion—in other words, we’re dressed as we would be on any average day.
