Page 109 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“It’s the Sports Center in the Montgomery Building on West Broadway.”

“I know the place.”

“But we’re probably too late,” she said, checking her watch. “The class is over in a few minutes.”

“If she’s not there, we’ll try her apartment.” He handed Nikki his cell phone as he nosed his Caddy into the street and gunned it. The big car shot forward through the dark streets. “Call Simone,” he ordered, taking a corner fast. “She’s got a cell, right?”

“Yes.”

Nikki was already punching out the numbers. Her fingers were shaking, her mind filled with dread. The phone rang. Please answer, Nikki silently prayed. Come on, Simone. Two rings. Pick up. Oh, please, God, let her be safe. Three rings and Nikki’s fear crystalized. Simone always had her cell with her, always answered. “Come on, come on…” Four rings and then the taped message with Simone’s voice on it. Nikki felt sick inside. “Simone, it’s Nikki. Call me ASAP.” Then she hung up and dialed Simone’s apartment. On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up. Again Nikki left a message.

“No luck?” Reed asked grimly as he sped through a yellow light.

“No. But I’ll try her cell again. Maybe she didn’t hear it over the noise of the class. Jake always has music playing and, well, you know.” She punched out Simone’s cell phone number again, but deep in her heart she knew her friend wouldn’t answer. Might never return Nikki’s call. A dark corner of her brain feared Simone was with the killer, maybe already dead, or waking up in a coffin with a dead body…. Nikki shuddered as she listened to Simone’s voice instructing her to leave a message again. Please let her be all right, she silently prayed. Please!

Maybe her cell phone was out of battery life. Maybe even now she was lingering after class, flirting with Jake, inviting him out for a drink.

Please let Simone be there. It doesn’t matter how angry with me she is, just let her be safe.

She clicked off the phone and stared into the dismal, dreary night.

Reed drove as if possessed, and yet it seemed to Nikki that it took forever to drive down the street where the gym was located. Reed double-parked and Nikki jumped out of the car. She was up the steps of the gym and through the doors before she could think twice. Jake was at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

“Was Simone Everly in class?” she asked. “You know, my friend with the dark hair who asked you out the other night.”

Jake shook his head. “Not tonight.”

No. This can’t be. “You’re certain? We were supposed to meet here, but I got hung up and…” her voice dwindled away as she heard Reed catch up with her.

“I would have noticed. This is the first class she’s missed.”

“Oh, God.” Nikki leaned heavily against the reception desk. She thought she might break down altogether as Reed flashed his badge, asked the same questions and got no further.

“Is something wrong?” Jake asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Reed said. “But if Ms. Everly comes in, would you have her call me?” He slid a card out of his wallet and thanked Jake, then helped Nikki to the door. She walked on wobbly legs, leaned on him as he whipped out his phone and made a call. “I thought you should know that Nikki Gillette’s best friend may be missing…Simone Everly…No, we’re not certain, but here’s what happened.” He repeated the events of the night. “We’ll check out the restaurant, then her apartment…No, but I’m not waiting twenty-four hours if she does turn up missing…Yeah, I know.” He clicked off. “I called Morrisette. She agrees with me that we’d better find Simone.” He helped her into the Caddy and drove to the parking structure where Nikki had often parked, the place she and Simone had met. There, on the first floor, bold as brass, was the BMW convertible.

Nikki’s heart tumbled. “It’s her car,” she said and climbed out of the Caddy as it rolled to a stop. There were only a couple of other cars, an ancient Volkswagen bus that had once been green, and a dirty white compact, both parked several spaces away from Simone’s sleek convertible. No one else was visible and aside from the hum of traffic outside, the parking lot was silent and one of the fluorescent lights sizzled and flickered overhead.

“Don’t touch anything,” Reed warned as Nikki reached the BMW. He was only a couple of steps behind.

Heartsick, Nikki peered through the windows and noticed Simone’s umbrella in the backseat along with a couple of beat-up paperback books, a sack of groceries and a coffee cup in the holder.

“So, we know that she made it this far.”

“And it was a trap,” Nikki said, but saw no signs of a struggle near the convertible, no traces of leather where shoes had scraped on the concrete, no drops of blood that were visible, thank God. Maybe she’d gotten away, or never met whoever it was who had pretended to be Nikki. If only! Nikki crossed her fingers and sent up another prayer.

Reed suggested, “Let’s check the restaurant.”

Dread pulling at her, she nodded and headed through the open door. Reed kept up with her and managed to make another call. The streets were foggy and damp, light from the street lamps shimmering oddly against the wet sidewalks, moisture blurring the windows of storefronts.

Cassandra’s red and yellow neon sign burned bright.

Nikki threw open the doors. A hostess who had been studying her seating chart looked up and smiled. “Two?” she asked with a glance at Reed.

“We’re not interested in a table. I’m looking for my friend,” Nikki explained. Christmas music was playing and the tables and booths were half filled with customers. Waiters and busboys bustled in the narrow aisles. “I was supposed to meet her and got hung up. Her name is Simone Everly and she’s about five foot six with dark hair and—”

“She was here,” a young-looking waitress said as she cruised by with two cups of coffee on a tray. “H

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