Page 75 of Whiskey and Whispers
None of them were Alexa, however.
“What do you mean? If it’s not work, it’s personal, right?”
“It’s personal,” Tate agreed. “Take a look.”
He watched as she looked through the pictures, her eyes widening more with each one.
“Oh. Is this what I’m thinking it is? That’s a lot of different women unless he’s starting his own sorority.”
“I don’t want to jump the gun here,” Tate said. “Let me take a look at his other phone.”
Pictures of Alexa. Others with what looked to be friends or co-workers. Hell, there was even one of Tyler, Tate, Josh, and Rachel at the tavern from about eighteen months ago.
It was clearly the “main” phone. Tyler had messages from his parents, Tate, Josh, Rachel, Alexa, and a plethora of other people, including his dentist and internet provider.
He picked up the first phone, pondering the open question as to what in the hell this phone was used for.
Did it matter? It wasn’t his business, after all. It didn’t appear that there was anything on that phone that Alexa wanted, since he doubted she even knew of its existence. He could simply retrieve the photos from the main phone and move on with his life. Never think about this moment again.
The phone buzzed with an incoming text, and Tate almost dropped it in surprise. He hadn’t expected a dead man to receive a message from anyone, but then it occurred to him that these women might not know Tyler had passed.
A message popped up on the screen asking what was going on and why they hadn’t heard from Tyler. That they’d been researching cruises, and they had so much to talk about.
“It looks like Tyler was planning to take a cruise,” Tate said. “She doesn’t know he’s dead.”
“What’s her name? Maybe we should let her know? It seems cruel to let her think he’s ghosted her.”
“Frankly, that’s the least of what Tyler has done to these women. As for her name, she doesn’t seem to have an actualname. And I’m assuming it’s a she. He named her in his contact list by some initials plus the city, not by name.”
“We should tell them,” Cat said firmly. “Otherwise, they’ll blame themselves. I’ve been ghosted, and it’s a shitty thing to do.”
Tate had also been ghosted, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to take on the responsibility of letting these people know that Tyler wasn’t going to call them back. Ever.
Tate thumbed through the contact list. All of the contacts were there by city, sometimes preceded by two or three letters. Perhaps a code of some kind? No one had names.
Was it so his friend could keep track of them? Was it some sort of code? Sweet Jesus. Tate was sorry he’d ever opened these phones, but he was also glad because no parent should have to find out that their son was a creepy womanizer.
He abruptly stopped when he reached the W’s.
WinHeights.
“You’re being awfully quiet. Is everything okay?”
“No, not really,” he finally answered. “There’s a contact named Winslow Heights.”
“Tyler had a woman here in town? That might explain the keycard.”
“I didn’t recognize any of the women in the photos,” Tate said. “If he was seeing someone here, he didn’t take any pictures with her.”
“Maybe he didn’t have time,” Cat replied tartly. “He’s obviously been a busy boy. Who was the woman, I wonder? It might have been someone at the service today, and no one has a clue.”
Tate had been wondering the same thing.
The phone buzzed with another text arriving. This time from another contact titledDenver.Tate tried to swipe the text away,but accidentally opened the message app on the phone instead. His gaze zeroed in on the latest text from WinHeights.
If you ignore me, you’ll fucking regret it. No one makes a fool out of me. I know you’re already in town, so don’t pretend.
The text was dated the day before Tyler was shot.
