Ziya opened the driver’s side door. “This went well, right?” she asked.
Seeing the expression on her ex-girlfriend’s face, Amie felt her heart crack open. A mix of hope and nervousness danced across Ziya’s features, her brown eyes big and questioning as she waited for a response.
Amie smiled softly. “Yeah. I think it went well.”
She only got a brief glimpse of the megawatt grin that flashed across Ziya’s face before she ducked into the car and turned on the engine.
Rolling down the passenger side window, Ziya called, “Don’t solve any murders without me, okay? This is our new friendship thing that we’re doing together.”
Amie bent over to peer through the window. “You know, normal people would just watchSurvivoror something.”
“Boriiing!” Ziya sang as she put the car in reverse.
Stepping back, Amie watched Ziya ease away from the curb and zip down the street.
Chapter SevenGossip
Day 2 A.L.
And now to distract myself with this murder so I don’t overanalyze every little thing I said to her, Amie thought as Ziya sped away. Letting out a small sigh, she turned back to her building and started up the steps.
Amie was focusing so hard on everything she’d learned in the previous hour surrounding Savannah and her death that she almost ran into the person standing at the top of the stairs.
“Ah, sorry!” she exclaimed, swerving to avoid plowing down the tiny woman in front of her. “Oh, hi Elena.”
Amie’s neighbor beamed up at her through large, plum-colored glasses. Elena Serrano was in her late fifties. She had a short brown bob streaked with gray, and standing at about four feet, eight inches, she was clothed in her usual outfit: a multicolored knit poncho over linen pants.
The woman did tarot and palm readings out of her apartment, a few doors down from Amie. She was also the self-appointed town crier of the building, seeming to consider it her sworn duty to stayup-to-date with everything that was going on with her neighbors and then share that information with as many people as she could. Amie was almost surprised Elena hadn’t yet figured out that Amie had been stuck in a time loop.
“Hello, sweetheart.” Elena patted her on the arm. “Was that Ziya I saw leaving just now? Have you two patched things up?”
Amie winced. She really didn’t need the building gossip telling everyone about Amie’s love life—or lack thereof.
“It was,” she said with caution. “We’re just friends now.”
“Ah, I see.” Elena nodded thoughtfully. “You know, my second husband—Charles, I’ve told you about him, the ginger who builds furniture—he and I reconnected after I divorced my third husband. And then he and I became lovers for a long while, even longer than we had been married. The sex was better than before, too. Sometimes you just need some time apart.”
“That’s really sweet, Elena,” Amie said weakly. “We’re kind of just taking things slow right now.”If you can call conducting a murder investigation “taking things slow.”
“Of course, of course. By the way …” Elena leaned in conspiratorially, and Amie braced herself for more romantic (or, god forbid, sex) advice.
But instead, the woman whispered, “Did you hear people think David might’ve killed Savannah?”
Amie reeled back. “Elena!” she scolded. “You know that’s not true.”
Elena shrugged. “I just share what I hear,” she said, her eyebrows rising with innocence. “I know you’re close to him, dear, but—”
“Come on,” Amie said sternly. “I’m sure you’ve heard more stories than anyone about Savannah terrorizing half the people she comes into contact with. You really think David’s the most likely suspect? He hardly leaves his apartment.”
“You sound like you have your own suspicions,” Elena said, her eyes brightening. “Who doyouthink did it?”
“Haven’t really thought about it,” Amie lied, pulling her key fob out of her pocket. “I just know it wasn’t David.”
“Interesting,” Elena hummed as Amie held the fob up to the scanner by the door. “So what did Ziya mean when she told you not to solve any murders without her?”
Amie turned back to the woman, ignoring thebeepand soft click as the door unlocked. “Were you standing here so you could eavesdrop on my conversation?”
Elena let out a theatrical gasp at the accusation. “Of course not! I was just looking for my key, and I happened to hear Ziya call out to you.” Her expression morphed into curiosity. “So? Who do you think did it?”
