Page 10

CHAPTER 10

BABY FUMBLED FOR HER phone on the nightstand in the pure blackness of her bedroom, knocking a bottle of water, a packet of gummy bears, and a box of tissues to the floor. “Hello?”

“You’ll never believe who just showed up here,” Rhonda said, her voice tight with excitement.

By the time her sister was finished recapping her encounter with Troy Hansen, Baby was fully awake. She stood squinting at the beach view outside her window; the blazing sunlight reflecting off the ocean and the bizarreness of the tale had rocketed her into consciousness.

Baby inhaled deeply. This was big . Stories about Daisy Hansen, Troy’s missing wife, were all over her socials and FYP, and the hashtag #troykilleddaisy was everywhere. “No. Freakin’. Way ,” Baby said.

“Yes freakin’ way.” Rhonda sounded like she was getting in her car. Baby heard the thunk of the Impala’s door closing, the whiz of the seat belt, and the grunt of the engine coming to life. “I was just interrogated outside the crab shack by some of the cops who’ve been tailing Troy. They wanted to know what he was doing at our office, of course. And they wanted to see what was in the box he brought over.”

“What did you do?”

“I played my lawyer card. They have no legal right to know what Troy or I discussed or what’s in the box.”

“You cited penal codes?”

“It works, Baby.”

“So are we going to take this case?”

“Are you crazy? Of course we are,” Rhonda said.

Baby felt a flame of exhilaration ignite in her chest. It was quickly snuffed out when Rhonda continued. “But, Baby, I’m lead on this. If last night showed us anything, it’s that even the most benign cases can turn malignant in an instant. This could be a murder we’re dealing with. Or, if it turns out that the contents of the box and Daisy’s disappearance are linked, a series of murders. So if I tell you to — ”

“C’mon, Rhonda.” Baby slumped to the carpet, leaned her head on the windowsill. “Can you press pause on the lecturing for, like, half a minute?”

“Do you know why I lecture you all the time, Baby?” Rhonda said, getting heated. “It’s because I actually care about you.”

“Ugh, don’t go all lovey-dovey on me.”

“Listen, if we slip up or if we get too confident or if we — ”

“You mean if I slip up,” Baby said. “If I get too confident. If I blow our cover and I get us made into a serial killer’s skin-suits. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

After a moment, Rhonda said, “I don’t think that.”

“You sure?”

“Baby ... ” Rhonda sighed. “Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What was that? I think my phone cut out.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Listen, have you left the parking lot yet? Because maybe two crab rolls would make up for this. Maybe . It’s worth a shot.”

“Don’t get too smart with me,” Rhonda said. But Baby heard the engine cut off. “I just need to know that you know that I’m lead on the Troy Hansen case. That’s all.”

“Say less, boss.” Baby yawned.

Once her sister hung up, Baby scrolled through her notifications. She had a message waiting for her on Craigslist. She opened it, read through it, and smiled. Rhonda might be lead on the cases at the agency, but she wasn’t lead in Baby’s life.

Never had been. Never would be.