Page 153 of Another Girl Lost

Now, as I unlocked my front door, a bag of groceries in hand, I looked up. Margo was there, sipping a glass of wine. Watching.

I closed the door behind me, but like I had all week, I didn’t lock it. I put my groceries away and moved to my art studio and stood in front of the canvas, staring at Della version #56. At this stage of the painting project, nervous anticipation electrified my body. I was filled with hope that this time, this version of Della would be just right, and when I looked at her, I could finally let her go.

I mixed paints and began to flesh out Della’s face. This version wasn’t as full and round as it had been. The angles of the jaw and thecheeks were slimmer, sleeker, like the reinvented Della turned Margo. I shadowed the chin and the cheekbones and then roughed in thin plucked brows.

It was another fifteen minutes before I heard the front door open. My heart rammed against the inside of my chest. I’d spent a decade locked away in this warehouse, and in many ways, I was still trapped in Tanner’s basement room.

Gripping the paintbrush, I refused to look away from the sketch, but my strokes slowed.

When I heard clipped footsteps, I stilled.

“You’re kind of obsessed with her, aren’t you?”

Lynn’s ragged voice was coated with smugness. But she wasn’t amused. She held up her phone. “You texted me?”

“I always struggle with the eyes,” I said, ignoring her question. “I could never understand them. Was she a jailer or a victim? Until I understood her, I couldn’t finish the portrait.”

“Why do you care? Tanner is dead and gone. His legacy is dust.”

“I doubt he’ll ever leave my life for good. Same with Della. Same with you. The four of us are fused forever.”

“Why did you text me?” Lynn asked.

I studied her quizzical gaze. I had no idea what she was talking about. Was this another lie? Another attempt to cover up her past? Instead of a denial, I played along. “The odd thing about it all is that I hated her, and I also loved her. I missed her.”

Lynn didn’t speak, but her gaze sharpened as she stared at the portrait.

“For months, it was the two of us.” My voice was soft and rough. “Locked in that room. We shared a life no one else in the world would understand.”

Lynn stilled. “You wanted to save her?”

“I did. I thought if I rescued her, I’d save myself. We’re not so different.”

“You didn’t turn Tiffany over to Tanner, so you’re different.”

“I was seconds away from shoving Tiffany into the van. A second or two is all that divides me from Della.”

“But you didn’t. And you and Tiffany escaped. And Tanner was killed.”

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

“Very much.” She stared at me in silence. Her stillness suggested I’d cut into a nerve and she was afraid to react for fear she’d reveal something important.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you afraid of me?” I asked.

“No. And for the record, I’m not paying you a dime. Tiffany tried to blackmail me, and it didn’t end well for her.”

So, Tiffany had tried to get money out of Lynn. That was motive for murder. “You think I’m trying to blackmail you like Tiffany did?”

Irritation darkened Lynn’s gaze. “Yes.”

“You think blackmail. The cops think I kidnapped you.”

Her gaze hardened. “You did. Or had someone you know do it.”

“Why would I do that?” I thought about Luke and how he could shift a conversation with questions. Like Della, he understood strategy.

“To scare me. To make me feel like you did when Tanner took you. You and your make-believe Della blame me for not knowing you were in the basement.”

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