Page 133 of Pieces of Her (Andrea Oliver 1)

“Oh, so horrible.” Her fingers went to her throat. “Poor Andrew.”

Andrew again.

Andy sat back down at the table. She wasn’t equipped for this kind of subterfuge. A smarter person would know how to get information out of this clearly troubled woman. Paula Kunde would likely have her singing like a bird.

Which gave Andy an idea.

She tried, “I saw Paula a few days ago.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I hope you didn’t call her that.”

“What else would I call her?” Andy tried. “Bitch?”

Clara laughed as she sat down at the table. She had put tea bags in the cold water. “I wouldn’t say that to her face. Penny would probably just as soon see us all dead right now.”

Penny?

Andy mulled the word around in her head. And then she remembered the dollar bill that Paula Kunde had shoved into her hand. Andy was wearing the same jeans from that day. She dug into her pocket and found the bill wadded into a tight ball. She smoothed it out on the table. She slid it toward Clara.

“Ah.” Clara’s lips turned up mischievously. “Dumb Bitch, reporting for duty.”

Another spectacular success.

Andy had to stop being subtle. She asked, “Do you remember Paula’s last name?”

Clara’s eyebrow went up. “Is this some sort of test? Do you think I can’t remember?”

Andy tried to decipher Clara’s suddenly sharp tone. Was she irritated? Had Andy ruined her chances?

Clara laughed, breaking the tension. “Of course I remember. What’s gotten into you, Jane? You’re acting so strange.”

Jane?

Clara said the name again. “Jane?”

Andy played with the string on her tea bag. The water had turned orange. “I’ve forgotten, is the problem. She’s using a different name now.”

“Penny?”

Penny?

“I just—” Andy couldn’t keep playing these games. “Just tell me, Clara. What’s her last name?”

Clara reeled back at the demand. Tears seeped from her eyes.

Andy felt like an asshole. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Clara stood up. She walked to the refrigerator and opened it. Instead of getting something out, she just stood there.

“Clara, I’m so—”

“It’s Evans. Paula Louise Evans.”

Andy’s elation was considerably tempered by her shame.

“I’m not completely bonkers.” Clara’s back was stiff. “I remember the important things. I always have.”

“I know that. I’m so sorry.”