Part 13 (2/2)

They were too far away for me to see expressions or hear what they said, but Liberty seemed pleased to see him. I don't know what made me stop walking to watch them. There was no reason Liberty and Dwayne couldn't be friends. But watching them together made me uneasy.

For the first time, I wondered about Liberty's story. Did Rutger actually exist, or had she made him up to explain why she'd come back to town? If she wasn't here because of ”Rutger” was the timing of her return a coincidence? She'd come back at roughly the same time Hobbs showed up, and I wondered if there was some connection between them.

Liberty must have felt me watching them because she glanced up the street quickly. Instinctively, I stepped into the recessed doorway of Picture Perfect so she wouldn't see me.

”Abby? What on earth are you doing?”

The woman's voice, so unexpected, almost made me drop my sandwich. I wheeled around to face my friend Rachel with an embarra.s.sed laugh. My reaction had been purely instinctive, and I must have looked ridiculous, ducking into the doorway like that. ”I don't know,” I said, stepping onto the sidewalk and hoping to regain a little dignity. ”Don't ask.”

Rachel's a beautiful woman whose life's ambition is to be a plus-sized model. I've only seen her a handful of times without full makeup, her dark hair just so, and outfits topped off with carefully coordinated accessories. Most mornings, I'm doing well if I can remember to put on a watch.

While Rachel waits to be discovered, she makes and sells candles at a shop just down the street, and she's usually in and out of Divinity several times a day. Like me, she must have been planning to eat lunch while she worked because she carried a bag with noticeable grease spots and a large soda in a paper cup.

She glanced down the street in the direction I'd been looking. ”What are you doing, spying on Liberty?”

I was embarra.s.sed to admit the truth, so I hedged a bit. ”Not exactly. I haven't seen you for a few days. You must be busy down at Candlewyck.”

Rachel gave me a knowing look. My subtle attempt to change the subject hadn't fooled her in the least. ”I am. It's that time of the year, you know. I sell more candles during ski season than I do the rest of the year. What about you? Are you getting orders for holiday candy already?”

”Some.” We started walking slowly toward Divinity. ”The pace should really start picking up as we get closer to Thanksgiving.”

”How's Liberty working out?”

I lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. ”She seems fine. Karen's pleased with her.”

”But you're not so sure.”

”She's fine,” I said firmly, but I wasn't sure which of us I was trying harder to convince. ”She hasn't done anything to make me unhappy with her.”

”But-?” Rachel nudged me gently with a shoulder.

”Come on, spill it. I can hear the hesitation when you talk about her.”

I stopped walking a few feet from Divinity's front door. Uncertainty about Liberty had been nagging at me for days, and the urge to confide in someone was almost overwhelming. But if we were going to have this conversation, I didn't want to have it in front of Karen. ”It's nothing I can put my finger on. There's just something a little . . . off about her.”

Rachel's dark eyes clouded. ”What do you mean?”

”Have you ever met her boyfriend?”

”Rutger?”

I nodded. ”I've never seen him. Have you?”

Rachel blinked in confusion. ”You think she's making him up?”

”I don't know. That's the trouble. She came back to town about the same time the dead guy showed up. What if there's some connection?” I glanced down the street to see what Liberty and Dwayne were doing now, but they'd disappeared.

”I think you're a little paranoid,” Rachel said. A sigh laced with exasperation escaped her lips. ”Have you heard anything about the murder? Do the police have any suspects?”

Maybe she was right. For Karen's sake, I hoped she was. ”No suspects that I know of.”

”And the victim? Do they have any idea who he was yet?”

I filled her in on everything I'd learned since I saw her last, told her about the guy who'd been following us the other night, my visit to Quentin Ingersol's office, and my conversation with Elena. ”That may not even be his real name,” I said when I'd finished, ”and none of it may help the police, but I'll call Jawarski and tell him what I found out as soon as I get back to the shop.”

Rachel frowned thoughtfully. ”No wonder you're paranoid. Do you have any idea who was following you?”

”None.”

”I would have been totally freaked out,” Rachel said.

”Believe me, I was. And the boys were terrified. The whole thing's starting to get to me, I guess.”

”I should just put the whole thing out of my mind and focus on things I can actually do something about-like work.”

”What you need is an evening without work and without the basketball team. A night all your own.” Rachel fell silent for a moment, then turned to me with a grin. ”I know the perfect thing. Come with me to that new antique shop after work. I've heard good things about it, and I'm dying to see what they have.”

”I don't know-”

”Come on. It will be fun. We can get dinner somewhere when we're through.”

”It sounds tempting,” I admitted, ”but this schedule I've been keeping recently is kicking my b.u.t.t. I think I'd be smart to stay in tonight and catch up on my sleep.”

”Your sleep?” Rachel laughed and shook her head. ”How boring is that?”

”I know. I know. I'd love to go to the antique store with you another time, though.”

”Okay. Sure. I can wait a couple of days.” She glanced at her watch, and her mood changed abruptly. ”I've got to run. I'm alone in the shop today, and I locked up when I left. The note I left on the door said I'd be back ten minutes ago.”

”That's all right. I need to get back, myself.”

”And don't worry about Liberty,” she said as she started away. ”I really think she's okay.”

Chapter 23.

Divinity was empty of customers when I let myself inside so, wrapped in blessed quiet after Karen left on break, I called Jawarski and filled him in on my conversations with Quentin and Elena. He didn't return the favor, but that didn't surprise me.

After I finished talking to Jawarski, I stared at the phone for a full minute, trying to argue myself out of doing what I did next.

It didn't work. Curiosity was way too strong.

Holding my breath, I dialed *69 to keep my ident.i.ty from showing up on caller ID and punched in the phone number Elena had given me. I chewed on my bottom lip while the phone rang. I desperately wanted to find out who the phone belonged to, but what if *69 didn't work this time, and I gave myself away?

<script>