Ava lays a hand on top of mine, clearly reading my distress. “I’vegot an idea. Let’s switch topics. I’ve got some hot gossip from our former workplace.”
Ava is too discreet and respectful to trade in gossip that’s anything close to hot, but she shares a couple of updates—a mansplainer we both disliked has been fired, and two women we admired have stepped into high-level jobs.
“How’syourwork going, by the way?” Ava asks, as the waiter arrives with our salads. “Are you finding it easy enough to do from here?”
“Yes, it’s been fine,” I lie. Without naming names, I describe some of the challenges my latest clients have been facing and skip any reference to myownchallenges with a few of them. Ava has long been my go-to person when I’m in a professional slump, and I could use her wisdom, but I want to keep things as light as possible, which has already proved tricky.
As the waiter clears our plates, Ava asks if I have time for a decaf cappuccino.
“Definitely. But let me run to the restroom first.”
Since I haven’t been here in a year, I end up hiking to the ladies’ locker room on the far side of the clubhouse, before recalling there’s a much closer powder room off the front lobby. But I decide to use the one in the locker room as long as I’m here.
There are only two club members currently inside, both in capris and T-shirts, busy stuffing wet towels into tote bags. When I emerge from the stall a short time later, they’ve already departed, and the only person present is a locker room attendant I didn’t notice a minute ago.
“Oh, hi,” I say, and she returns my greeting with a smile. She’s probably in her early thirties, with bright red hair, and not someone I remember seeing when I came to the club in the past.
“Does Blake still work here, by the way?” I ask as I’m drying myhands. I’m thinking of an engaging twentysomething woman I used to chat with whenever I changed after swimming.
“Yup, Blake’s still here. But she’s off today.”
“Would you mind telling her that Kiki Reed said hi?”
As she promises to do that, I start to turn away and then pause. Maybe she can fill in a few blanks for me.
“Can I ask you one more question?” I say. “Were you working here when Jess Nolan was an attendant?”
“I wasn’t, no,” she says, her expression darkening. “But Blake was. She still talks about her.”
“Were they friends?”
“Yeah. Blake said she was a really nice person, always sweet to everyone. She was going to school besides working here, and she still made time to volunteer at an animal shelter, that kind of thing. Blake was part of a group that helped raise money for a memorial they erected in Jess’s honor.”
“Such a sad story,” I say. “And they think one of the fair workers did it?”
She gives a little shrug. “That’s what I heard, but Blake said it might have been someone Jess knew—someone from here, even.”
“Like from the area?”
“I mean from theclub. Someone who worked here or was a member. She supposedly had plans to go to the fair with a guy the night she died.”
“Really?” I say, feeling a chill. “Did the police look into that?”
“I assume so, but I guess they didn’t have much to go on—because she apparently never told anyone his name. And people saw her alone there.”
The attendant darts her eyes toward the door, suddenly looking flustered. “I really shouldn’t be talking about this. Sorry.”
“Please, don’t be sorry,” I say quickly. “I was the one who brought it up.”
I trek back to the terrace, unsettled all over again by thoughts of Jess Nolan being assaulted and bludgeoned to death, the fear she must have felt, and the fact that the killer could be someone I’ve crossed paths with—who hasn’t been apprehended and may never be.
Is that what it’s going to be like in Jamie’s case? Will I have to spend the rest of my life knowing that his killer is walking free in the world?
I stop in my tracks in the corridor. Whatever I do, I can’t let things come to that.
21
IS EVERYTHING OKAY?” AVA ASKS WHEN I SLIP BACK INTO MYchair. My face must betray the discomfort I feel.
