But Vivienne didn’t hear me.Shouldering her bag, she stood, and she gave me the same smile I’d seen dozens of times on the dustjackets of her books.“I’m going to solve a murder.”
Chapter 3
Once Vivienne had disappeared into the crowd, I bolted for the exit.
Outside, it was evening: purple sky, deep shadows slanting across campus between the redbrick buildings, a breeze making me shiver.The air was clean, and it smelled like the end of an October day and like running water.A few yards away, reflected in the tall gallery windows of the conference center, Quick Creek was the same color as the glass.
Bobby answered on the second ring.“How’s the conference—”
“Vivienne’s here.”
“What?”Noises came from Bobby’s end of the call.“What do you mean?Are you okay?”
“Bobby, she’shere.She’s here!”I had to clamp down on my voice.“She is literally here right now.She walked up to me.She talked to me.”
Bobby said a few words that had never made it onto theMatron of MurderTV show.“Did she hurt you?I’m on my way.”
“No, no—” Saying it—justtellingsomeone—loosened something in my chest.Everything in my body loosened, as a matter of fact.I moved down the side of the conference center, away from the people coming and going, and sagged against a stretch of brick.Sharp edges dug into my back, but in a way, it was strangely grounding.My legs were trembling.“No,” I said again.“Don’t come.I’m fine.I—Bobby, how can she be here?”
“I don’t know,” Bobby said grimly.
“She said she received a pardon.”
Bobby said some words that, if the Matron of Murder had heard him, she would have washed out his mouth with soap.
“I know,” I said.“But that’s what she said.”
“Where are you?”
“Still at the conference center.”
“Good.Find a well-lit spot with lots of people around and stay there.”
“No, Bobby—”
“I’ll be right there.”
For a few seconds, I stayed where I was, clutching the phone.The intense strain of seeing Vivienne again, speaking to her, being near her—it hadn’t registered until it was finally gone, and now, in its place, I felt wrung out and exhausted.It was tempting to stay here, where the shadows were deep and cool and nobody would bother me.But Bobby was right; I needed to get somewhere with other people.
I dragged myself back into the conference center.
My first bit of good luck for the day was that I found a chair pushed into one corner of the building.My second was that nobody bothered me.Maybe nobody recognized me—I’d had enough run-ins already that it should have been statistically impossible foranyoneto recognize me.Or maybe whatever they saw on my face was enough to keep them away.
How could she be out?
It was impossible.
But it wasn’t impossible.Because she was here.
And what did she mean, she was going to solve a murder?
I had an idea—and the last time Vivienne had tried something like this, it had ended with an innocent woman going to prison for most of her life.
Bobby texted me as he got closer to the campus, and a few minutes later, he came through the doorway.
Did I mention he was Detective Bobby Mai, now?
And Detective Bobby Mai didn’t have to wear the Ridge County Sheriff’s Office uniform.Detective Bobby Mai got to wear a navy polo that looked incredible against his golden-olive skin and cuffed his biceps perfectly.Detective Bobby Mai got to wear a pair of chinos that did things—goodthings,wonderfulthings—for his, uh, rear.Detective Bobby Mai, with his glossy dark hair in a perfect part, with his heart-shaped face and his razor-sharp jawline, with his burnt-bronze eyes—well, Detective Bobby Mai was a snack.
