Page 42 of Call Back

His jaw loosened and defeat filled his eyes. “Seriously, Mags. What did you hear on the call?”

The sudden change in his demeanor worried me. Did this mean he really planned to double-cross me but was now having regrets? “Only that you’re meeting someone,” I said, playing dumb. “No other details, which is why I’m asking now. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I already did.”

I wanted to press him on it, but I needed to get inside. “I’ll let this go. For now.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’ll tell you when I know something.”

But that wasn’t true. Was he protecting me or playing me? “I’ll see you later.”

He turned back to look out the windshield, acting slightly troubled. “Yeah.”

I got out of the truck, my heart feeling heavy. I’d been unhappy and lonely in New York, but I’d experienced more emotional turmoil in the last four weeks here than in the entire ten years I’d lived there.

When I walked into the restaurant, I didn’t see my mother anywhere. My heart slammed into my chest and my head grew fuzzy. Had my stalker done something to her? But then I realized I was several minutes early—a rarity for me. The hostess led me to a table, and I followed her on rubbery legs, unsure how many more frights I could take. The waitress came over and took my drink order, then walked away.

The door to the restaurant opened, and a small, frail woman walked in, scanning the restaurant before her gaze stopped on me.

It was Momma.

How could she have changed so much in only a few days?

I stood as she headed my direction, willing my eyes to dry up. Momma abhorred pity even more than she abhorred weakness.

“Hi, Momma,” I said before I leaned in to hug her. She felt like she would break.

“You act like you haven’t seen me in ten years.”

I stiffened at the dig, but she chuckled and mischief lit up her eyes. “Bad joke.”

I grimaced and my heart felt even heavier than it had after walking away from Colt. “I’m sorry, Momma. So sorry for wasting so much time.”

She shook her head and wagged her finger at me. “Nope. Let’s have none of that. We’ve made our peace, haven’t we?”

She’d apologized for treating me so coldly after my father left, and I’d apologized for running away, but we’d both left a lot unsaid. Still, sometimes a person just needed to know when to let something go. “Yeah. Fresh start.”

She gave me a curt nod. “Good. Now tell me more about this police detective.”

I laughed. “You mean Brady?”

“Have you been shacking up with any other Franklin police detectives?”

“No.” But her mention of Brady reminded me of Emily. Somehow I’d forgotten about her over the last hour. I’d wanted to forget. Momma and Emily had gotten close enough for Momma to have her on speed dial. I was pretty sure she didn’t know about the murder. How did I tell her?

“Momma, have you seen the news today?” But even as I asked, I wondered if that was the right approach. I hadn’t seen—or read—the news since arriving at Miss Ava’s house this morning, so I wasn’t sure anything had been made public.

“No.” She paused. “Was there anything about you in it?”

“No. Not me this time. Emily.”

“Emily?” she asked in wonder. “Did she have some big case that made the news?”

I was going about this all wrong, but I didn’t know how to do better. Folding my hands in my lap, I forced out past the lump in my throat, “No.”

“She was on vacation last week. Her first in years. She was supposed to come home yesterday. What could she have made the news about?”

“Momma,” I whispered. “Emily’s dead.”

---