“Like what?” Vero asked.
Officer Oates counted off on her hand. “Tampering with a monitoring device, violating curfew, evading arrest, stealing a police vehicle—”
Bennett cleared his voice and leaned his head in the door. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt.” Celeste stepped aside to make room as he squeezed himself inside with the rest of us. His tie had been straightened and cinched, and his shirtsleeves had been rolled back down and buttoned at his wrists. He smoothed a hand through his hair, making himself presentable as he passed Officer Oates a business card. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m an account manager for Dinwiddie and Strauss. You’ve probably heard of our public relations firm or seen us on TV. We’ve handled several high-profile cases throughout the metropolitan area recently—political scandals, disgraced celebrities, malpractice stains, corporate blunders…” He held down his tie as he leaned close and lowered his voice. “We’ve beenknown to smooth over faux pas for law enforcement agencies from time to time. As I understand it, there was quite a scare at the home where Ms. Ramirez was taken into custody earlier tonight. Some kind of hostage crisis, was it?”
I glanced past Bennett into the hallway. Cam flashed me a discreet thumbs-up. How much had he told Ben in the two minutes they’d been waiting in the hall?
“A bomb threat,” Officer Oates clarified.
“Right. That’s terrifying stuff,” Ben said gravely. “I’m sure the story is already making its rounds on the news. It’s a good thing Ms. Donovan was there. Who knows what might have happened to Ms. Ramirez if this Good Samaritan hadn’t saved her life?”
Officer Oates frowned at him like he had lost his mind. “This woman stole a police car and interfered with an arrest. She didn’t save anyone’s life.”
Ben shrugged. “You could see it that way. But I’m willing to bet the court of public opinion will see Ms. Donovan as a hero. After all, the vehicle was left unattended,” he explained to Officer Oates, infusing his observation with gravitas. “The engine was left running and the driver’s door was left ajar. Imagine if that car had been in the blast zone of a bomb while a falsely accused, innocent woman was handcuffed inside it, helpless, and unable to get out.” Ben put his hand on my shoulder. “Ms. Donovan jumped into action to save that woman’s life, selflessly risking her own to relocate the vehicle a safe distance away from the threat. Her actions will surely be seen as heroic when it airs on the news. Especially when the press gets wind of the fact that Ms. Ramirez had been indicted for a crime she never committed. Viewers love an underdog story, and this one has the legs to go viral.”
“Are you threatening me?” Officer Oates’s voice sharpened.
Ben held up his hands. “Not at all, Officer. I’m just pointingout that charging these women might cast you in an unflattering light. At the very least, it would bring a lot of unwanted attention to your department. Ms. Donovan is, after all, a highly respected literary celebrity, and her name alone is likely to draw a lot of press. She has thousands of fans who would surely be interested in hearing her story. And who better to write a true-crime documentary about her terrible ordeal than the author who lived through it?”
Officer Oates’s shocked eyes snapped to me.
I risked a glance at Cam, who was smirking in the hall.
“The car you’ve accused Ms. Donovan of taking was found,” Ben continued in a coaxing voice. “It was left at the scene in perfect condition. And Ms. Ramirez has been proven innocent of the charges against her—a fact that would never have come to light if she had remained trapped in the back of that car,” he pointed out. “I understand if you feel Ms. Ramirez hasn’t suffered enough, but the public might feel otherwise.” He withdrew a freshly printed coupon from his wallet and handed it to Officer Oates. She looked at it dubiously. When she didn’t reach for it, he extended the offer to me. “If you or your agent need a great PR firm to help you navigate all this, Ms. Donovan, I’m confident we can position you in the best possible light. I have a lot of contacts with the local news channels, and our firm has quite a bit of experience dealing with delicate situations involving celebrities of your status.” Ben tucked the coupon into my jacket pocket for me, a reminder that his offer came with conditions in fine print—his help in exchange for my silence. He gave me a sly wink before walking out the door.
CHAPTER 33
By the time Vero and I stepped foot outside the police department the next morning, the blinding sun was still low in the sky. Vero massaged her wrists between sips of her bitter police station coffee, her steps lighter than I had seen them all week. Not only because the burden of her ankle monitor was gone, but because she had finally shed the emotional baggage she’d been carrying for a year. The shame she’d felt for the charges against her, the betrayal she’d endured by people she had thought were her friends, the guilt she’d carried over dropping out and running away… None of that had to hold her back anymore. She could finally stop looking over her shoulder and start looking ahead.
Cam was waiting for us in the Eggplant at the curb. Zoey and Arnold waved at us from the passenger seat. Zoey’s cardigan was on inside out, and Cam’s hair was sticking up. Judging by their goofy grins, I had a pretty good idea where Cam had spent the night. Vero raised an eyebrow at their rumpled appearance, but if she was contemplating murdering Cam, she kept those thoughts to herself.
Vero and I tossed our empty paper cups into the nearest trash can and climbed into the back. Cam reached behind him andhanded me my cell phone. I cringed as I booted it up. One missed call from Nick at ten o’clock the night before. I must have missed it during all the commotion at the party. I dialed into my voice mail and pressed the phone to my ear.
Hey,he said in a low voice, as if he were trying to keep from waking the kids. No emergencies. The kids and I are doing great. I was just missing you and wanted to hear your voice.I could picture him loosening his tie and rubbing his eyes at the end of a long day. It’s getting pretty late. The kids are asleep, and I’m heading to bed. Hope you and Vero are okay. I know, I know,he said through a sigh, you’re probably fine. I’ll stop worrying. Give Vero a hug from me. I love you. And hey,he added casually, though too intentionally to be an afterthought,let me know when you’re planning to head home. There’s something I want to talk to you about when you get here.
I listened to the click as he disconnected, trying not to read too deeply into the last line of his message. I didn’t have much time to think about it. The next voice mail was from Sylvia. It had been recorded less than an hour ago:
Finlay, it’s Sylvia. What’s this I’m seeing online about you narrowly escaping death at the hands of a deranged unabomber? I feel like there’s a very big story here. I want to hear everything, Finlay. Every word! Especially the part about how you rescued your accountant from that burning police car. How did you not manage to get a picture of that? I asked Jared to make one. Don’t worry, I told him to make sure the AI makes your hair look good and you’re wearing something sexy. By the way, I’m glad to hear that whole sorority house–larceny business got cleared up. Your followers will all be relieved to hear it. They’ve been very concerned about that gorgeous brunette Nick was spotted with at the mall yesterday. Call me when you get this.
“Everything okay?” Vero asked as I stared at my phone. Sylvia’s last comment mingled with Nick’s in my brain. Those vague finalwords about how he had something he wanted to talk to me about suddenly took on a little extra weight. I didn’t like the heavy feeling it left in my chest.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to smile. Vero didn’t need to take up my worries right now. “It was just Sylvia.”
“Did Javi text?” she asked with a wince. I didn’t imagine she was looking forward to explaining where we’d disappeared to yesterday. We’d been gone all night without a word, and I was sure he and Norma would both have plenty to say about it.
I passed her my phone. “I didn’t see any messages from him. Why don’t you call and tell everyone we’re on our way home.”
Vero braced herself and called Javi first. After a few rings, she frowned. “He’s not answering.”
“It’s early. Maybe he’s still asleep. Those pain pills really knocked him out. Try your mom. She’s probably up.”
Vero dialed her mother. When her mother didn’t pick up, she dialed her aunt. “That’s strange. None of them are answering.”
“Where to?” Cam called over his shoulder.
Vero and I exchanged a worried look. “Take us to my mom’s house,” she said.
Norma’s house was quiet when Cam dropped us off. Not one of Vero’s neighbors had opened their window blinds yet, nor had any of them set out their trash cans. Wendell wasn’t sitting on his porch, Lenore wasn’t fussing with her garden hose, and Joan wasn’t peeping out her kitchen window as we drove by, all of which struck me as odd.
