“Long, but productive.”
I set my bag on the table and slipped off my coat, a vintage wool A-line with faux fur trim.
Tonight, Giovanni was dressed in fitted charcoal slacks and a pressed black button-up beneath an apron. His dark hair was slicked back, and not a single strand was out of place, as usual. He looked tired, but his eyes were warm as they took me in.
Turning his attention to the sauce, he lifted out a spoonful, blew on it, and gave it a taste test. He then nodded in satisfaction and turned off the burner, saying, “Sit, and tell me everything that’s happened since we were at the cabin earlier today.”
I sank into a chair at the table, and Luka settled at my feet with a soft huff. Giovanni set two bowls on the table, filled them with pasta and sauce, and then he took a seat across from me.
“At the cabin, we were still piecing together what we knew,” I said. “Things like Audrey being murdered in those woods, Logan going missing, and the mysterious locket in his sketchbook. After the day I’ve had, all those discoveries feel like a lifetime ago. Since then, I’ve met with Colton and Sadie, two of Audrey’s classmates.”
“Why them?”
“Colton hasn’t lived here long. When he first started at the school, Audrey caught his attention. He found out she was in a relationship, but it didn’t stop him from pursuing her.”
Giovanni raised a brow, his tone turning dry. “Sounds like a stand-up guy.”
“He’s full of himself, that much is clear. He told me Audrey turned him down, and not long after, he started hanging out with Talia, her best friend. Audrey wasn’t happy about it, but they kept seeing each other, and today I found out they’re dating, but they’ve been keeping it quiet.”
“Did he say why?”
“He doesn’t feel like it’s the right time to make it public, given Audrey was just murdered. He also told me he was at a party, and he overheard Audrey telling Logan she didn’t feel safe, and that she was worried he wasn’t either.”
Giovanni’s expression turned serious. “Now she’s dead, and Logan is nowhere to be found. It seems Audrey may have predicted what was to come.”
I nodded. “I keep thinking back to Logan’s drawing of the locket with the name Anne on it. I just wish I knew its relevance, and if it’s related to the case somehow.”
“I have no doubt you’ll figure it out. You always do. How was your visit with Sadie?”
“Sadie and Audrey had a falling out over 200 hundred dollars that went missing from Sadie’s purse after she left it at a party. Audrey had found the purse and took it home with her. When Sadie picked it up the next day, she noticed the cash was gone. Audrey denied taking the money, and whether she took it or not, the accusation damaged their relationship.”
“Why did Sadie make such an accusation? I imagine there were plenty of other people at that party who could have taken it.”
“I had the same argument. Sadie said Audrey bought a new backpack right after she got her purse back. When Sadie asked her about it, Audrey claimed she paid for the backpack with money she received from an online store she’d started.”
Giovanni ate while he listened, his focus steady.
“Sadie also said she saw Audrey at a fast-food place a few days before the murder,” I said. “They didn’t speak, but she noticed Audrey watching her phone, looking tense.”
“And does Sadie have an alibi during the time of the murder?” he asked.
“A thin one at best. She said she was at home, but she was alone, so no one can confirm whether she’s telling the truth or not. Colton’s alibi isn’t solid either. He thinks he was at the arcade that night.”
Giovanni finished his pasta, pushed the bowl to the side, and crossed his arms.
“Where does that leave you in your investigation?” he asked.
“It leaves me with more questions than answers.”
“Which question would you like to be answered first?”
“I want to know who Anne is, and if she is or was a real person. I asked Sadie if they had a classmate named Anne, and she didn’t think they did.”
“Maybe Anne’s not a classmate,” Giovanni said. “Maybe he drew the sketch with the intention of giving it to someone, a relative perhaps.”
“Or maybe it isn’t a relative, and she’s tied to the case somehow.”
I took a few more bites of pasta, grabbed my bowl and his, and carried them to the sink, rinsing them while Giovanni moved to the small desk tucked beside the kitchen window. His laptop waited there, still open from the project he was working on, a hotel his family was renovating in New York City.
