Page 87 of Call Back

Chapter 18

My mouth dropped open. Ava had said she was hiding in plain sight. Then why did my mother think she’d disappeared? Then again, Momma had said that Rowena’s disappearance never made the news. Obviously she’d gone into hiding.

My phone started to vibrate on the counter, and I was relieved to see Belinda’s name on the screen. A quick glance toward Colt confirmed he was out like a light, so I took my keys and walked out to the landing, shutting the door behind me as I answered the call.

“Belinda, are you okay?” I asked in a rush as I locked the door. Colt was inside, but he didn’t need some bad guy walking in on him.

“I’m fine. Just checking on you.”

She sounded worried, and I had to wonder what had incited her anxiety. The timing with last night’s adventure seemed suspect, but then I realized she was probably paranoid about my safety after Emily’s murder.

“I’m okay,” I said, doing my best to sound breezy. “Say, before I forget, remember that masquerade ball you mentioned? It just so happens I got invited to go too.”

“With Brady?” she asked, and I was surprised she didn’t sound more excited.

“Actually, no . . .” This wasn’t going to go well. “With Colt.”

“How did Colt get tickets?” She sounded incredulous.

“I don’t know. He asked me to go because he didn’t want to go alone.”

“Which means he has two. Magnolia, those tickets start at $250 and go up to $10,000 per table. What kind of tickets did he get?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured as I glanced back up at my apartment door. Where had Colt gotten that much money, and why would he spend it on masquerade ball tickets? I wasn’t entirely buying the networking story. But I wasn’t going to say any of that to Belinda, who’d already tried to steer me away from a friendship with him. Maybe it was stupid and naïve of me, but I needed Colt right now. I also definitely needed to go to that stupid ball, which meant I had to ignore the warning signs waving in my face. “But I do know I need a dress and a mask, which means I have to ask a pretty huge favor.”

“You want me to help you find something to wear?”

I’d left a few gorgeous dresses at my ex-boyfriend’s apartment in New York. With only two suitcases to pack my clothes, I’d brought only the essentials. But now I needed a dress, and the ones I’d previously owned were probably hanging in the Salvation Army on 46th Street.

“I don’t have a lot of money,” I said, feeling embarrassed that I was reduced to groveling. “I was wondering if I could borrow one.”

She was silent for a moment. “On one condition.”

“What?” I cringed, bracing myself.

“I get to pick it out. You can veto it, but I get to choose.”

Last week, we’d played a game—she’d guessed which of her new wedding dresses would fit my personality, and she’d been shockingly correct, even down to the fact that I was keeping a deep, dark secret. But I reasoned a formal dress would be safe, and Belinda had excellent taste. “I thought you were going to ask for something hard. Sure.”

“How about you come by my shop after you get off work at Alvin’s? I’ll show you what I’ve picked out. I was going to see if you could have dinner with me anyway, so two birds with one stone.”

I hesitated. “Brady has something he wants me to do.”

“Surely you could stop by on your way,” she cajoled. “We can reschedule the dinner.”

“He’s picking me up from Alvin’s when I get off at six.”

She was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “I have an ulterior motive for wanting you to come by the shop. I really need to talk to you, and I know you’re working Ava Milton’s Bible study before you go to Alvin’s.”

If this had been a dinner date, I would have canceled in a heartbeat. But I’d promised to take Brady to that house, and while I wanted to see Belinda, I wasn’t sure that was a good enough excuse to cancel.

When I didn’t answer, she said, “It’s about Roy. It’s important.”

I gasped. Was she finally going to share what was going on with him? “I’ll try, but I don’t have a date with him,” I said. “It’s official business.”

“About Emily’s murder? Are you a suspect?”

I forced humor into my voice. “One of the benefits of sleeping with a cop is you have an ironclad alibi when a murder’s been committed in the middle of the night.” Then I realized how bad that sounded. “I didn’t mean to sound glib.”

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