“Or not,” she said hopefully. “We could forget about it and move on.” Except they couldn’t do that with Nadine ignoring her texts. “Ugh. I know what I have to do.”
“Why don’t you do it now?”
Nadine pulled out her phone and then put it back in her pocket. “After I’m done with this drink.”
Wes kept sending her meaningful glances that she did her best to ignore before finally calling her out. “You’ve been sipping that juice for twenty minutes. Text her.”
“Damn it.” He was right, and she hadn’t even enjoyed the freaking juice, too much in her head about Lisanne. “Okay.”
He plucked the glass out of her hand, and she went to the music carousel room, mind half on naming the instruments—was that a piccolo?—and half on wording a reasonable text. The last message from Lisanne, a basic,hey, you there, sat unanswered, the blank space below a declaration of Nadine’s inability to be a generous human. Not even. Barely decent and too embarrassed to reply.
She sighed and began to type.Sorry! Just saw this.
Lisanne didn’t have to be the excellent journalist she was to recognize bull. Nadine deleted it, then went to strum the lute. Possibly it was a mandolin. Lisanne had done nothing wrong. She very reasonably wanted to talk about her work. She saw an opportunity to do Nadine a favor and took it, not to make Nadine feel inferior but because she was a good person. This rupture was all on Nadine.
Her phone buzzed, and she nearly dropped it onto a bongo when she saw the message from Lisanne.Open the gate, loser.
Wes came to the door as Nadine looked up from the screen.
“Lisanne is at—” he said.
“I know,” said Nadine, waving her phone.
“How does she know you’re here?” Wes followed her out. “I thought we were sticking to the original Dot Voline secrecy rules.”
“We are. I said I was working with you, but that’s it.”
“You told her about me?”
“Only for safety, and not that we were here.”
“Oh.” He looked dejected, then frowned. “It’s terrible you had to do that. Also, damn, is she good.”
Nadine didn’t answer. She went to the front door and pushed the button that would release the gate. Opening the door, she saw the blue Hyundai coming up the drive.
Lisanne pulled in and popped out of the car. “Did I pass swans in the fountain?” she asked.
“They’re fake.” How on earth had Lisanne found her?
“I figured when they didn’t move.” Lisanne surveyed Nadine before her eyes widened.
Nadine turned to see Wes behind her, waving a cheery hello.
“What the hell is going on here?” Lisanne sounded almost indignant. “You’re having a love tryst? This is your secret story? Investigating what’s in Wes’s pants?”
“It’s not a love tryst!” Nadine tried to shut the door, but Wes simply put his foot out as he watched with interest. “We are working.”
Lisanne’s face passed through several expressions—disbelief, bemusement, and perhaps some bafflement—before settling on neutral curiosity. “In a Bridle Path mansion?”
“It’s Dot Voline’s house.”
“Of course it is,” Lisanne said. “Makes total sense. Wes, we were interns at theBelleville Recorderback in the day. Lisanne Eden.”
Wes reached out his hand. “I remember. Nice to see you.”
They shook, and Nadine stared at the car. “How did you know where I was?”
Lisanne tapped her phone. “We shared locations one time and never turned it off. I’ve been checking it for the last few days when you didn’t answer my texts and realized you hadn’t left this spot.”
