Page 12 of Shadowed Witness (The Secrets of Kincaid #2)

Allye dragged herself out of her recliner at nine thirty Sunday morning after snoozing her alarm three times. Church started at ten, which meant she had twenty-five minutes to shower, dress, and eat if she wanted to be on time. Maybe she should skip the shower.

She headed for the kitchen and flipped the switch on the hot water kettle.

The hint of a headache lurked behind her eyes—though it was nothing like the raging migraine that had knocked her flat and stolen nearly all memory of yesterday—and her hips and lower back protested a third night spent in the recliner instead of her bed.

There was no way she could have even attempted to go back to sleep in her room Friday night, and she’d apparently fallen asleep in the chair again last night too.

She turned toward the table and let out a little groan. She just needed to stretch her muscles ... and maybe pop an ibuprofen.

Once the pain reliever kicked in and she had her tea, maybe she’d feel more human and less like the grizzly Bryce and Corina teasingly called her morning persona.

She sank into a chair and rested her forehead on her crossed arms while she waited for the water to boil.

She didn’t feel like a grizzly this morning.

More like a half-drowned mouse. Her limbs felt numb and achy all at the same time. How was that even possible?

The water began to rumble in the kettle. She ought to choose her tea and portion it into the infuser basket, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The clock ticked behind her as if to prompt her to step things up.

One more minute.

It wasn’t like running late was unusual for her.

Allye jerked her head up. The movement sent a shock of pain down her neck.

“Ow.” She reached numb fingers to massage the area.

She must have dozed off. With the realization, panic jolted through her.

What time was it? She shot to her feet. Bad idea.

Her equilibrium was off, and she grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling.

She blinked through the fuzz encroaching on her vision and turned to check the clock.

11:55.

She sagged back into the chair, disappointed. There’d be no church for her this morning. She’d missed last week too.

Classical music floated from the living room.

Her phone. Allye stood—slowly this time—and let her vision clear.

She smacked the on switch to her now-cold-again water kettle as she passed it.

She wouldn’t make it to the phone in time anyway.

As she’d expected, the music stopped before she was halfway across the room.

It began again almost immediately. She snatched it from the end table before it could throw the caller to voice mail again.

“Hello?” Her voice cracked on the word, and she grimaced. At least the pounding in her head wouldn’t travel through the phone and give her away.

Corina’s concerned voice came across the line. “Hey. You okay? We missed you this morning.”

She blew out a disgusted breath. “Yeah. I overslept, then fell back to sleep.” She left out the at my kitchen table part.

“Oh.”

She pressed the heel of her hand against her eye. “Did you need something, or are you just checking up on me?”

“Both. Bryce wants to grill this afternoon. You interested in joining us?”

“Sure. What time? And what can I bring?”

“We’ll eat about four, but you can come earlier if you’d like. And you don’t have to bring anything.”

“Okay.” But she would. Corina should know better than to think she’d come empty-handed.

Corina hesitated. “You sure you’re doing okay? You don’t sound so good.”

Should she tell her best friend about what had happened the other night?

Maybe, but what if she didn’t believe her either?

And what if it had all been in her head?

She didn’t really believe that, but neither did she have an explanation for the weird events.

And if Corina did believe her, she’d want to know why the police weren’t taking her seriously.

Which meant that Allye would have to admit to her health struggles.

Tell her.

She knew she should. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it yet.

“Allye?”

“I haven’t had my tea yet, and I had a pretty bad migraine yesterday,” she deflected, trying to lighten her tone. “Once I get some caffeine in my veins, I’ll sound a whole lot better.” Might feel a tiny bit better too.

“You should remedy that.”

“That’s my first priority when I hang up.”

Corina chuckled. “Then I’d better let you at it. See you this afternoon.”

“See ya.” Allye disconnected the call and rubbed her forehead. Everything still felt foggy. Hopefully, the tea actually would help. And give her the energy to bake cookies or something.

She returned to the kitchen. Today called for an Assam tea—full-bodied, high caffeine, perfection.

The water was just coming to a boil, so she selected and portioned out her tea leaves.

The kettle’s auto-off switch kicked in just as she was ready to pre-warm the teapot.

She swished a little hot water in the pot, dumped it, then added the infuser basket.

Her hand shook as she poured water over the tea leaves, but she managed to fill the pot without spilling much on the counter.

While the tea steeped, she sopped up her mess and began to search for something to eat. She didn’t feel like cooking, so she settled for a leftover biscuit and a spoonful of peanut butter. Not ideal, but it would have to tide her over until dinner.

Once the tea was ready, she settled at the table with her meager brunch and tried to plan out her afternoon. She had nearly four hours to kill before heading over to Bryce and Corina’s. Baking would take up some of that time, but she should attempt to do some photo edits.

And clean the kitchen. The mound of dishes glared at her from the sink like some sort of monster.

Despite Friday’s embarrassment, she hadn’t had the energy to do anything but double-check her practically useless locks after Eric left.

She’d slept with her phone in her hand, ready to dial 911 if her intruder returned.

And doing anything yesterday had been impossible.

A bit of biscuit lodged in her throat. She quickly grabbed her teacup and gulped the hot liquid. It burned all the way down, but it took the food with it. Holding a napkin over her mouth, she coughed to confirm everything was clear.

Fear flickered through her. Difficulty swallowing could be another symptom ... but everyone got choked occasionally. And the biscuit had been dry. Surely that’s all it was. She shoved the fear aside but still took extra care as she slowly finished eating.

Next up: dessert for tonight. She took stock of her energy levels. A little better since she’d eaten and gotten a bit of caffeine in her system, but she still felt off. Better go with something simple. She did a quick online search and found a recipe that looked promising. She’d give it a try.

Before long, she had two pies in the oven. Timer set, she forced herself to load and start the dishwasher before heading to her spare-bedroom-turned-office with her refilled teacup. A few large or hand-wash-only dishes remained in the sink, but the monster was noticeably shrunken.

Now she would focus on edits for a bit. She hadn’t missed any major deadlines yet, but she’d been edging awfully close on several projects.

She couldn’t afford to let her photography business tank.

Not now when she desperately needed both the income and the flexibility it provided—not to mention the means to pay her health insurance premiums. Up the road, she might not have a choice, but she’d keep going as long as she could.

She tapped the mouse to wake her computer. She groaned. Update in progress. Just what she needed. It was nearing sixty percent, so maybe it wouldn’t take much longer.

As she waited, she sipped her tea. The malty notes of the high-quality Assam soothed both her throat and her nerves.

She let her gaze drift over the desktop.

She’d managed to keep this workspace relatively uncluttered, but she desperately needed to dust. One more thing to add to the list. She probably had time to at least get the worst of it, but that would require the energy to get up and get a dusting cloth.

Instead, she grabbed her phone. Scrolling social media wasn’t productive, but it didn’t demand anything of her either. As she thumbed down her feed, a local alert caught her eye. Missing Teen.

She caught her breath. She recognized the boy in the photo. Dion Walker. Quickly, she tapped the link and pulled up the short article. No details other than his description and that he hadn’t been seen since he left school Thursday afternoon.

Jesus, please protect him. You know where he is. Keep him safe until he’s found.

She sent a quick text to her small group.

Couldn’t have too many people praying. She pulled up a new tab and did a search for his name.

No other articles or updates appeared, but she set herself a reminder to follow up and pray.

Even if there weren’t updates, it would help keep his situation from getting lost in her brain fog.

The computer screen in front of her went dark, then lit as the updates finally finished. Reluctantly, she set her phone and teacup aside. She had to get these edits started.

Password in. Program open. She was ready to go. Except she hadn’t brought her camera case. Having the photos to upload would help.

She retrieved her camera case and returned to her seat.

She removed her camera, then the memory card from it.

Photos popped up immediately when she inserted the card, but they weren’t from Jayden Alexander’s senior session.

These were the nature photographs she’d taken afterward.

That’s right—she’d swapped the cards before heading for the trail.

She dug in her camera bag but only found more new cards.

What had she done with Jayden’s? A hint of panic niggled at her brain.

She forced herself to think through her actions from that day.

She’d removed the card, placed it in the protective case the new one had come in, then .

.. her purse! She’d slipped it into her purse.

Pushing past the lightheadedness that hit when she stood, she circled back to the living room and grabbed her purse.

After a moment of fruitless digging, she dumped the contents onto an end table.

She grabbed at her lip balm and a couple of coins as they rolled toward the edge.

Two coins escaped her. They bounced loudly on the floor and skidded away to who knew where.

She scanned the odds and ends—and the few random leaves—that had been in her purse.

No memory card. It had to be here somewhere.

She shook her purse over the mess. Nothing but dust joined the pile on the table.

Quickly, she began replacing items one by one.

When all that remained were the leaves and a few gum wrappers, she stared at the nearly empty table, panic growing. She couldn’t lose those photos.

Think, Allye! Maybe her purse had fallen over in the car?

She started toward the door, but the kitchen timer started beeping. The pies. Had to get them first. She rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of oven mitts. She checked the desserts and removed them from the oven.

Once they were safely cooling, she headed for her car. Twenty minutes later, she leaned her head against the seat back and tried not to cry. The memory card was nowhere to be found.

She knew it had been in her purse. She remembered the snap of the plastic case and the sensation of dropping it inside. So where had it gone?

All at once, it hit her. Her purse had dumped while she was hiding beside Spicebush Trail.

She’d been in a hurry to grab everything and get out of there.

She could easily have missed the memory card, especially if it had slid under a bush.

Thank God it hadn’t rained since then. Hopefully, the flimsy case was enough to protect it from any dew.

But her stomach clenched at the thought of returning to the trail.

She couldn’t go alone. That much was sure.

She checked the time on her phone. Almost three.

She didn’t have time to go now anyway. While she hated to leave it there any longer than necessary, she’d wait until after dinner.

Perhaps Bryce would go with her. She’d have to think of a reason to ask him that wouldn’t require her to reveal everything that had been going on, but surely she could come up with something.