Page 77 of A Spot of Tea
All four faces turned and looked at Joey.
“I don’t know what to tell you, but it wasn’t me.”
The room was quiet. Patty took a step toward him. “I believe you. I know you’ll find a way to prove me right.”
He forced a smile. “I will.”
Patty nodded. “Lock the door. It’s crunch time.”
Twenty-eight
The water rippled and danced, throwing dazzling shards of light into her eyes. Eliza didn’t have her sunglasses. She stared out the window anyway.
Someday soon, Lottie’s black fin would break this water’s surface, the spout of her breath casting rainbows in the air.
It would be spectacular. The site was already spectacular, with its red-painted buildings and sweeping views of the islands. Her mom and Russell were making it happen, and Eliza had taken it all for granted.
She should have visited more often, asked more questions. Taken more pictures. She’d never expected she might end up in jail and miss everything.
She heaved herself onto the leather recliner at the other end of the room. If she didn’t get arrested soon, she’d go mad, walking these halls and thinking these thoughts.
But what was there to do? The robber had eluded everyone, and Stacy had been able to provide enough evidence to convince a judge thatshewas the one to blame.
There was no way out.
Joey’s phone rang. She recognized the number as her mom’s, but she was afraid of answering. The line could be tapped. They could track her here. She’d like at least one night of freedom before she was arrested.
The phone only had thirty percent battery anyway. Maybe a coded text was enough.
All is well but can’t chat now. Feel like Lottie, neither here nor there.
Her mom’s response came a minute later.Got it. Hang tight, talk soon!
Hopefully Stacy and the ATF didn’t have the authority to tap every phone Eliza had ever communicated with.
She pulled the recliner back and stared at the ceiling. The wood was dark and knotted, stained a handsome brown. Eliza tried to practice her zen. The ceiling could hold the answers. Perhaps if she cleared her mind, something would come to her.
Ten minutes of staring, yet nothing.
She sat up. Joey’s phone was still at thirty percent battery. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look at things again.
The service was terribly slow, but she was able to log into Mackenzie’s fake account and load Stacy’s page. She clicked through the pictures, zooming in on every man, no matter how far he was in the distance. Surely Stacy’s robber-lover had to appear in at least one of these hundreds of pictures?
She got through two years’ worth of pictures with no sign of him or, at least, what she thought he might look like. A bold smile. A trendy haircut. Maybe winking at the camera. A man with no fear.
The battery was down to twelve percent. Eliza got up and rummaged through the desk drawers. There were papers, cough drops, and a can opener, but no phone chargers.
She sat back on the recliner and closed her eyes. A knock at the door made her jump.
“It’s me!” her mom’s voice called. “I’ve brought supplies.”
“Come in!” Eliza shouted, almost falling out of the recliner as she scrambled to sit up.
The door opened. Mom came through first, her arms overflowing with a fluffy blanket and towels, a book bag strapped to her back. Mackenzie followed, reusable grocery bags weighing down each arm.
“Welcome to my new apartment,” Eliza said, sweeping a hand behind her. “I have a chair and a desk.”
Joey stepped into view and stood in the open doorway. He waved.
