Page 61 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“What kind of feeling?”

Simone pulled her purse from under her chair and slung the strap over her shoulder. “It’s nothing.” When Nikki didn’t seem convinced, she added, “Really. Remember, I’m so screwed up that now I’m chasing gay guys.”

Nikki thought about the note that had been left on her bed and her skin crawled just at the thought of it. If she confided in Simone now, she’d only upset her friend further. “If there’s something bothering you…”

“It’s probably just the time of year. Christmas and all. Andrew and I got together about this time of year…but that was a long time ago, too, wasn’t it? Nearly thirteen years. You know, the weird thing is that you and I could have been sisters-in-law…you might have been my kids’ aunt. Auntie Nik, how does that sound?”

“Familiar. Lily’s daughter calls me something like that.”

Obviously Simone hadn’t dealt with Andrew’s death any better than had the rest of the family. Maybe she should get away for a while. Away from the memories. Away from her best friend who just happened to be the sister of the man she’d loved. Away from the ghosts of the past.

The waitress finally caught on, sauntered over to the table and Simone asked for the check while Nikki asked about the guy who’d been sitting in the corner booth.

“Never seen him before. But then, I just started last week.”

“Thanks.”

“It was probably nothing,” Simone said as she eyed the bill.

“Next time, it’s my treat. Really.” Nikki gathered her purse.

“I’ve heard that one before. Besides, you’re a cheap date. One glass of tea.” Simone dropped bills onto the table and they walked together to their cars. Nikki’s beat-up hatchback was parked two spaces down the street from Simone’s six-month-old BMW convertible.

The cobblestone street was deserted and dark, but Nikki saw no one hiding in the shadows. Nonetheless, she was edgy, a little nervous, so she checked the interior of her car before climbing in and starting the engine. It died. Again. Pumping the accelerator, she twisted the ignition and watched Simone pull away from the curb. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” She tried again and the engine coughed before sputtering and dying. Simone’s taillights became distant points of red. Nikki was starting to sweat. Remembered the guy Simone had said was staring at them from the corner booth in the Bijou. But she wasn’t alone; there were other patrons coming out of the building and she had her cell. She wrenched on the key again, and the engine fired. Carefully, Nikki gave the car some gas and then pulled away from the curb. Relief settled over her until she tried to negotiate the next corner and took it a little fast.

She was running late, as usual.

No matter what, she didn’t want to miss her meeting with Cliff Siebert.

The Subaru wobbled in the middle of the turn. Felt out of kilter. The steering all wrong…

“Damn it all.” Nikki pulled over to the curb and climbed out of the car to spy the problem. Her rear left tire was flat as a fritter. The others were losing air fast. “Son of a—” She kicked the flat tire and swore under her breath. She was going to miss her meeting with Cliff. No way could she make it now.

Of all the luck.

She whipped out her phone and punched in the numbers of his cell. It was dark, but she knew how to use a jack and change a tire. But she couldn’t change all four.

One ring.

No answer.

Two rings. “Come on, come on!”

Or she could call AAA…or maybe Cliff would offer…

Three rings. “Oh, for crying out loud—” A van pulled up beside her and a guy in a baseball hat rolled down his window.

“Trouble?”

Four rings.

“A flat. Actually four flats.”

“Want some help?”

“No…I’ll be fine. My, uh, my husband is on his way,” she lied, hoping he didn’t notice her ringless fingers.

The cell phone clicked and Cliff’s stock message about leaving a message at the tone played.

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