Page 111 of Another Girl Lost

She leaned toward me. “You’re stalking me.”

“Just grabbing a cup of coffee.”

Brown eyes narrowed. “Were you the asshole who came into the hospital and said my house was flooding?”

I didn’t blink. “Why would I report a fake burst pipe?”

Her gaze hardened. “You followed me from the hospital to my house.”

“Did I?”

“You’re stalking me.”

“Like I said, I’m here for the coffee.”

“Is this payback?”

I ignored her question, letting her wallow in the frustration that oozed from evasive answers. “When did you learn the truth about Tanner? Or were you and Tanner in it together? Did the box under the bed excite you?”

“What box under his bed?” The question sounded as if it had been practiced a thousand times before.

“The box where he locked Della while he made love to you. And for the record, she had curly brown hair.”

She swallowed. “Jesus. I’m not a monster.”

Had she heard or sensed something when Della was under the bed? I could have pressed, but I was on the verge of driving her out of here. “Tanner could be very charming until he wasn’t. I know that better than anyone.”

She sighed. “What do you want?”

“What did he talk about? What did he care about? You dated him. I know you two talked.”

Her back straightened, but she didn’t rise. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to forget all that.”

“Tiffany hasn’t forgotten you. She remembers you and Tanner talking all the time.” I smiled, going for friendly, not feral.

“She would have heard a bunch of stupid dating talk between us. He was sweet. He took me out to dinner and gave me flowers. He wasn’t like most guys and didn’t rush intimacy.” She looked down as if she realized what she’d said. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“No, you don’t.” I held her gaze, knowing most people were unnerved by lingering eye contact.

Fingers dug into her purse. “When he was killed by the police, I saw his picture on the news, and I called the police and told them I knew him.”

“They’d have come to you eventually.”

“Tanner was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ll never live all that down.” How many victim cards could she toss on the table?

“You knew something was wrong. You knew.”

“I did not!” Lynn stood abruptly, knocking her coffee over. “Stay the hell away from me!”

The people sitting near us looked up. Without context, they saw a pale, tall woman, fists clenched, face burnished red, glaring at me.

Lynn stalked out of the shop. I sat for several beats and then slowly rose. I glanced at a woman staring at me and smiled. “Show’s over.”

Outside, I watched as Lynn slid into her car and fired up the engine. The back tires squealed.

Fresh air swirled around me. The summer sun burned bright, cutting through the trees planted in the small patches of dirt dotting the sidewalk.

I slid behind the wheel of my truck, my hands trembling with rage. I could blame Della for my imprisonment, but in the darkest moments in that cell, she’d been more like me than anyone. She’d held me, reminded me to be brave, told me what it took to survive.

---