“It’s nothing to worry about,” I say, and then glance behind us. Though there aren’t many diners here tonight—perhaps because it’s early in the week—I want to be certain no one can hear me. “But I just had a brief conversation with the locker room attendant about a female employee who was murdered, and it threw me a little.”
“Someone from here was murdered? My goodness, when did this happen?”
“Four years ago. A girl named Jess Nolan.”
“Oh, right, I know who you mean now,” Ava says, nodding. “It was right before I moved to the area full-time, but Vic told me about her. She apparently was a lovely girl, and people were terribly distraught about it.”
Two cappuccinos arrive, obviously ordered by Ava in my absence, and I wait for the waiter to move away before speaking again.
“The attendant said the girl supposedly had a date that night and it might have been with one of her coworkers from here—or even a member.”
“Amember?” Ava says. She’d started to take a sip of her drink but sets the cup back in the saucer with a clink. “This is the first I’m hearing of this.”
“Could it be true?”
She lays a hand against a cheek, her brown eyes pensive. “Anything is possible, of course. Working in human resources for close to thirty years taught me that. But I’d be a little surprised if she’d had a date with a member. From what I’ve seen here—and you know how I tend to notice these things—there are clear boundaries, and people seem to respect them.”
But what happens in private is a different matter.
Ava slowly lifts her cup again and finally takes a sip. The two of us had done a good job of shifting the mood in a more positive direction, but now I’ve cast another pall over the table.
As we’re finishing our cappuccinos, Ava signals for the check, and a few minutes later we head down the steps of the clubhouse, arms linked. There are only eight or nine cars left in the parking lot besides our own.
“What a nice evening, Ava,” I say. Despite those moments when the conversation turned dark, it was good to be in her company. “Thank you so much for treating me.”
“My pleasure. It’s been too long since we had a girls’ night out.”
“And don’t forget, you promised to let me takeyouto dinner when you come to Manhattan this fall.”
“Yes, but it will be later in the season than I thought. Vic has several book events in September, and though he’d been planning to travel alone, I’ve decided to join him, which means postponing my city visit.”
“Okay, just let me know.”
We hug goodbye. Ava ends up pulling out of the parking lot first, taking a left toward her home; I leave immediately after, turning right for New Burford.
Though the night is still warm, I decide against the AC and instead lower my window a few inches, letting the breeze whip my hair around. It’s not even nine o’clock, but it’s already fully dark out, yet another sign that summer will soon be gone. The summer I barely knew.
I hold my speed to fifty, or under. Living in the city, I don’t drive very often, especially at night, and the road is not only poorly lit but ridiculously twisty. Mindful of deer, I also keep a close watch on the shoulders, especially when I’m shooting past cornfields, where the stalks are over six feet high right now. There are lights still burning in many of the houses I pass, but I have the two-lane road mostly to myself.
I haven’t gone far when I notice how keyed up I still feel. Ava’s last comment in the parking lot—about planning to accompany Vic on tour—has begun to gnaw at me. Maybe she’s more concerned about him than she let on, and I should have pursued the topic further instead of letting the comment pass. Plus, I’m still so upset by what I know about Liam and Tori, and the fact that Sam never followed up with me. What the hell am I supposed to do with the information I’ve found?
My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror as two beams of light from another vehicle suddenly appear in it. It’s almost comforting to share this stretch of nearly desolate road with someone. When, about a mile later, the road forks and I bear left onto Route 217, the other driver does likewise. We’re obviously headed in the same direction, at least for now.
I reach Warren, one of the quieter towns in the area, where the sidewalks have already been rolled up for the night. Though I know my way from here, I keep an eye on the GPS just to be on the safe side. I take a right at the second traffic light in town, with only sixteen more minutes to go. And then I notice something else. Those two beams of light are still behind me.
I feel a prick of fear. Maybe I’m overreacting, but it seems more than coincidental that the car has traveled the same three roads that I have—unless the other driver’s destination is New Burford too. Instinctively I roll up my window and look quickly at the phone screen, reminding myself there’s a turn in another mile. Let’s see what happens there, I decide.
Soon after, holding my breath, I flick up my turn signal and hang a right. And so does the other car. Jeez,ishe actually following me?
My heart’s thrumming now. I’m on a section of road lined mostly with fields, old barns, and silos, and there’s not another vehicle in sight. I press down slightly on the gas pedal, picking up speed but not daring to go too fast.
With alarm, I notice the other driver speeds up, too. The vehicle is a dark sedan, I see now, not a truck or SUV, and it seems to be only inches behind mine. Tightening my grip on the wheel, I accelerate again—and so does he. Before long it feels like he’s close to ramming my bumper. He’s turned on his high beams, too, nearly blinding me. What the fuck is going on?
I keep accelerating, finally putting a tiny bit of distance between us. But my hands are trembling, making it hard to steer.
Squinting, I check the mirror again. A deer suddenly darts out from a field behind me and bolts across the road in my wake. I hear the other car brake to a screeching halt. I keep driving, letting out a gasp of relief when I see the high beams recede farther and farther behind me.
Soon, I spot the lights of New Burford studding the darkness ahead. I don’t dare drive straight to the house on Ash Street, though. As soon as I reach the town line, I turn right into an open Sunoco station and quickly position the car so I have a good look at the road. Aminute later, a black four-door shoots past. It might be the car that was behind me, but there’s no way to be sure.
