Page 63 of Save Me

I see my phone light up, even though it’s face down. I ignore it. I already know who the message is from. I’m not meeting him this Friday. I need some space and time to sort out my feelings.

Besides, work is my priority at the moment. It always has been, and for the foreseeable future, it will be.

CHAPTER 18

Kennedy

A few hours later, I pull into the parking lot of the fast-food chain where Nicole Weeks, a former employee of one of Blackmon’s, now works.

An employee at the McGruder’s chain where Nicole used to work told me that she now works the mid-morning to late afternoon shift as a manager.

It’s a little after five p.m., and the drive-thru line stretches halfway down the parking lot. From my viewpoint, the inside is bustling as well. Groups of teens who appear who’ve just gotten out of sports practices for the day clamor around in the dining area.

Parents with young children pile in and out of the doors, meals in hand, taking dinner or snacks home for the evening.

I wait in my car, watching the door to spot Nicole when she comes out.

It doesn’t take long before I notice the petite, early twenty-something-year-old with brunette hair coming out of the restaurant.

I hop out of my SUV and head in her direction.

“Nicole Weeks?” I call out.

She pauses next to the red sedan I assume is her vehicle.

“Hi,” I greet. “My name’s Kennedy. I work at The Regal as a reporter.”

Her green eyes shift to something over my shoulder, then return to me. “A reporter?”

I nod. “I want to talk to you about your old job at McGruder’s. And maybe about the employee who died there. Erika Dalton?”

“Look, I, uh, I don’t have anything to say.” She shifts from one foot to the other. “Whatever you’re searching for has nothing to do with me,” Nicole says.

“I don’t think that’s true.” I step closer but don’t crowd her space. “Do you remember her?” I show her the picture of Erika Dalton on my phone.

She visibly swallows and looks away from the picture.

“You worked with Erika, didn’t you?”

“Only for a few months,” she says. “I didn’t know her well.” Again, she looks over my shoulder toward the building.

“Nicole,” I say, drawing her attention back to me. “What’s going on at that food chain that has you so antsy? Is it related to why Erika took her own life?”

“No,” she quickly says. “I mean …”

“So, there is a reason Erika killed herself?”

“No … I don’t know … I mean …” She trails off. “No.”

“No, you don’t know the reason? Or no, you can’t tell me?”

She pinches her lips and clutches her shoulder bag to her chest. “I have to go.” She spins and heads to the car. Her hand shakes as she works to put the key in the lock.

I watch for a few seconds. If I had doubts that something strange was happening in those restaurants, they disappear at the sight of Nicole’s unease.

“Nicole,” I call as I stand in front of her car door. “Why did you quit working at McGruder’s?”

Her hand slips from the lock.

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