Page 132 of Call Back

Chapter 26

I lookedat the paper in my hand, mulling it over. Momma had been asleep since last night, and the nurses had said she was holding her own. I could spare an hour, couldn’t I?

As I headed to the parking garage, I made a quick call to Tilly.

“How’s your momma doin’, sweet girl?” she asked when she answered.

“The same. She’s been asleep since last night.”

“She could pull out of this.”

“Yeah,” I said, even though we both knew it wasn’t true. “I was calling to check on you. I wasn’t scheduled to work at the big fundraiser, but since Momma’s not there . . . Well, I was just calling to see if you need me.”

“Your momma got that culinary school to help, and at this point there’s too many cooks in the kitchen, pun intended.” She chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Colt said you were going as his guest.”

“He invited me,” I conceded.

“And Belinda said she picked out a dress for you.”

I wasn’t so sure about that now. Another thing to worry about if I decided to go. “Sounds like you’re getting all kinds of second-hand information about me.”

“Maybe if you told me yourself . . .” Her voice trailed off, but it sounded good-natured and not pouty. “Maggie, when your mother . . . when she’s gone, I don’t want to lose you again. I’m not sure I can handle losing her, let alone you.”

“You won’t, Tilly. I’m sticking around for a while.” Just one of many reasons I couldn’t run off with Colt, as tempting as it was to flee our problems. Tilly needed me and Belinda needed me too, whether she accepted it or not. Besides, I was tired of running. I was tired of hiding.

I knew what I needed to do.

“Tilly, I have to run an errand. I’m headed into the parking garage, so I’m going to lose you. If I don’t talk to you before tonight, good luck.”

“I’ll see you at the party, sweet girl.”

Time would tell.

I worried about finding my car, but it was in the same place we’d parked the night before. I unlocked the trunk and lifted the floor cover to reveal the spare tire, the hiding place Colt had used for the gold. Sure enough, it was gone.

If I was going to confront this woman, I couldn’t do it wearing my dirty jeans and the T-shirt I’d planned to wear to hike in the woods, now smelling like a musty house and hospital antiseptic. Unfortunately, I was officially out of clean clothes.

I’d reached yet another low point in my life.

A quick stop by a trendy store at the mall yielded two nice outfits that put a significant dent in what little money I had left in my bank account. I went to my apartment next, intending to move my laundry from the washer to the dryer, but was shocked to discover it had already been moved. Two shirts and a dress, all shrinkable, had been hung to dry in my closet.

Colt.

A lump formed in my throat. As stupid as it sounded, this was better than flowers or an expensive dinner . . . if I overlooked the fact he’d probably picked the lock to get into my apartment. And I did because I suspected he had only broken in to make sure I was safe.

What was I going to do about Colt?

After a quick shower, I changed into an understated pale-pink blouse with a cream-colored suit and cream heels. If I wanted to meet Rowena Rogers on a level playing field, I had to look the part. I grabbed my cream Coach purse and stuffed it full of makeup along with my wallet. If I was going to the fundraiser, I needed to be able to get ready . . . Though there was the small matter of a dress.

My makeup was understated to match my outfit, and I dried and lightly curled my long, dark hair. Pleased that I looked the part, I locked up my apartment and headed toward Brentwood. I’d half-expected my domineering landlord to intercept me, so at least something was going my way.

By the time I got to Rowena Rogers’s house, I still hadn’t figured out what to say or even what to ask. Part of me wasn’t sure what I was looking for. What was the point? My father had been a criminal. My mother was dying. My brother hated me. My sister-in-law thought I’d betrayed her.

What did it matter who’d done what fourteen years ago?

I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror, surprised to see how much I’d changed in the last month. This wasn’t just about me anymore. This was about discovering the truth and possibly the identity of a serial killer.

After parking the car in Rowena’s driveway, I reached under the passenger seat and pulled out the gun Colt had given me. I hadn’t allowed myself to bring it into the hospital, so I’d stowed it there for safety. I unwrapped it, making sure the clip was loaded, and shoved it into my purse. While I doubted I would need a gun to face a woman whom I suspected to be in her seventies, I wasn’t giving anyone the benefit of the doubt.

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