Page 58 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

Having seen the markups on that invoice, I believed her.

Two-thirds of my mission were accomplished. Now for the hardest part: Sally.

Chapter

Twenty-five

Even though logically the stalker couldn’t know where I was, I still looked around very carefully when I left Sticks and Stones. All clear. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see a white Chevrolet again without feeling an automatic twinge of panic, which, when you think about it, would be a major pain in the ass. As Wyatt had mentioned, there are thousands and thousands of white Chevrolets. I could be in a permanent twinge.

I needed something hot to drink for my throat, and I needed fabric for my gown. And, damn it, I still needed to call the phone and cable companies—no, damn it, I’d probably have to go in person, to prove my identity, since I didn’t have the account numbers. I also still had to go shopping for clothes. And my boots! My blue boots! They would be returned as undeliverable, but I wanted them. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my order number because all of that had burned up with the condo, so I couldn’t even contact Zappos and have them redirected.

I brightened. I could order another pair, though, from Wyatt’s computer.

Siana called while I was on the way to my next-favorite mall. “Mom said you couldn’t talk at all. Tap the phone once if that’s true.”

“It was true yesterday,” I whispered.

“I heard that! How do you feel?”

“Better.” I looked for a McDonald’s. A cup of coffee would improve things even more.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not yet.” Right now I was still at the stage where I had to handle it all.

“Do you have any idea who set the fire?”

“I saw her face,” I managed to croak, “and she’s familiar, but I can’t place her.”

Logical Siana said, “Well, since all of this started recently, she has to relate somehow to one of the places you’ve been recently. Start thinking of them, and eventually something will click.”

“That’s what I thought, but I’ve gone over and over my routine, and I can’t place her anywhere.”

“Then it’s someplace that isn’t part of your normal routine.”

I thought about that while I plowed through stores in the mall. This had all started at the other mall, where I had gone into a lot of stores. Was that where I’d seen her? I tried to remember something unusual happening in any of the stores, that would have caused her face to stick in my mind like that. The idea distracted me while I tried on shoes, and that’s just not right, because buying shoes is one of the great joys of life. I should have been able to devote my full attention to the ritual.

I didn’t try to replace my entire wardrobe in one fell swoop—that would have been impossible—but I did try to cover all possible needs: work clothes, play clothes, dressy clothes. I definitely splurged on new underwear sets, because that’s one of my weaknesses, too. Between what had been cut off me in hospitals and what I’d lost in the fire…

My breath literally caught in my chest.

The hospital.That was where I’d seen her.

She was the nurse with the bad dye job who had chatted with me for such a long time, while she kept ripping bandages off my scrapes. Then I’d been in so much pain from the concussion that it hadn’t really registered at the time, but she’d been unnecessarily rough with those bandages, as if she’d beentryingto hurt me.

Her hair had been that ugly brown then, and very blond when I’d seen her in the crowd at the fire scene, but it was the same woman. Maybe blond was her normal color, and the bad dye job was because she’d hastily dyed her hair that very morning, as a disguise. A disguise from what? I hadn’t known her from Adam’s house cat then. But for some reason she hadn’t wanted me to see her with blond hair.

In that case, why would she then bleach her hair? Why not leave it the ugly flat brown?

I grabbed my cell phone and checked the service; there was only one bar, so I gathered my purchases and made a beeline for the nearest exit. As soon as I stepped out into the sunshine the number of bars went to three, and a second later to four. I punched in Wyatt’s cell number.

“Are you all right?” he barked as a greeting, in the middle of the second ring.

“I remember her,” I said as loudly and clearly as I could, because there was a lot of noise around me, with traffic passing by. My voice croaked horribly, breaking in the middle of the words, then losing volume entirely. “She’s anurseat thehospital.”

“Say again, I couldn’t understand you. Did you say hospital?”

I tried again, this time in the loudest whisper I could manage. At least my voice didn’t break when I whispered. “She’s a nurse at the hospital.”

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