Page 138 of Wicked Little Lies

What if this woman’s behind it.

With shaking hands, I go for my phone and call Jac.

Voice mail.

The sick feeling spreads, cold and numb and queasy.

I don’t expect him to be waiting for my call, but his phone’s never off when I call. And if they went out after I left, the phone…

“Shit.”

I try Hendrick.

Voice mail.

My vision wavers.

“They’re not picking up. Neither one,” I mutter.

“Maybe they’re busy,” Harry says from at the end of a long tunnel.

Fiona’s standing there, too close, Yet her voice sounds far away. “This is bad,” she says. “He should have told me. All of this. I could have helped if I’d known.”

“Known what?” asks Harry.

“Whatever’s going on.” Fiona looks at me, troubled. “Hendrick didn’t answer when I called at a set up time. It’s why I came here.”

“Why…” I tune out Harry and Fiona as they keep talking and keep trying to call Jac and Hendrick.

“Something’s wrong.” It keeps going to fucking voice mail.

I look up, and then I stand and get the burner.

I’ve got all the pieces,I type.Where are you?

The back of my neck pricks with ice. I’ve done it now.

I’ll send someone to Esterhazy.

No,I text back.I’ll bring them. Where are you?

A text finally comes through with an address. Then another one.An hour’s time.

“Harry,” I say quietly. “Give me the fakes.”

“We don’t—”

“Whatever fakes there are and the rest in originals.”

“The ring, the earrings. But—”

“They want those five, so that’s what I’ll give them.”

I look at Vicky, mind made up, and say, “I’m going to need a gun.”

TWENTY-FOUR

HENDRICK

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