Page 111 of Pretty Broken Dolls

Time kept ticking by and Lizzy was a no-show.

Katie knew that her friend wasn’t a flaky person so she must’ve had a good reason for not showing up, calling, or even sending a message. It was a nice, quiet evening so Katie decided to enjoy her salad and wine. It was good to push the investigation from her mind—even if it was only for a little while.

As Katie was leaving, she tried to call Lizzy again and the same thing happened. No answer. She decided to go to Lizzy’s motel.

She slowly drove into the motel parking lot, which was more than half filled. Lizzy’s gold Camaro was there. Katie parked and walked to Lizzy’s motel room, which was around the back in a quieter location. The air was much cooler than it had been an hour ago. When she got to the door she found it was slightly open and light peeked out around the frame.

“Lizzy?” she said and pushed the door open wider. “Lizzy,” she said again.

No answer.

As Katie entered, a familiar icy shiver ran up her spine. Solid cop instincts told her to be vigilant and careful. She saw that the double bed was unmade; the white sheets were folded back and there was a nice outfit laid out—a pair of black pants and a cream blouse. A pair of black pumps was neatly placed on the floor.

She could smell a slight fragrance of Lizzy’s favorite perfume. It was light with an undertone of roses.

“Lizzy?” she said again.

There was a blue suitcase in the corner. Several textbooks were lying on the TV console next to her purse, keys, and sunglasses. Walking toward the bathroom, Katie saw a white towel lying on the floor near the shower, which was still damp. Her toiletries and makeup were spread out on the counter.

Katie thought maybe she’d gone to get some ice and waited a moment. But Lizzy wasn’t there and wasn’t returning soon. All of Katie’s instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong—very wrong.

“Where are you, Lizzy?” she whispered. Deciding to wait another ten minutes just in case it was a silly misunderstanding with a perfectly logical explanation, Katie paced in the room. Her breath shortened and remained shallow. Heat rose up in her chest and flushed her face.

No, don’t even try it…

The anxiety symptoms had a way of showing up at the least opportune time. Katie quietly berated herself, she had been doing so well and keeping the PTSD monster at bay. She knew that when stress crept up, so did the usual symptoms.

With no sign of Lizzy returning, and Katie’s anxiety building, she knew that she had to take action. Trying to figure out where Lizzy might be, Katie decided to call John, hoping that he was still at work.

“John Blackburn,” he answered to her relief.

“John, it’s Katie.”

“Katie, what’s up? You sound stressed.”

“Have you heard from Lizzy?”

“No, why?”

“When did you last talk to her?”

“Katie, what’s going on? I talked to her yesterday. Why?” His voice became strained. “Katie?”

“Thanks, John. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Katie what’s—”

She ended the call. As she walked out of the motel room, she closed the door.

Her cell phone chimed, alerting her that she had a text.

The message was from Lizzy’s number.

Welcome to your crime scene. If you don’t play, Lizzy dies. If you call anyone, Lizzy dies. You have ten minutes to get to the Trenton crime scene. Yes, this is real. Tick Tock.

Chapter Forty-Five

Friday 2115 hours