First Lie Wins(74)
Before I can shut off the engine, Ryan is at the car door.
“I kept trying to call you.” I can tell he’s agitated I ghosted him all day.
“I texted that I called the motel office earlier and got us another night,” I say, then lean in to kiss him before he can respond. We stay tangled up for a few minutes, long enough to soothe any worries that there is a problem between us. “Sorry, that took longer than I thought it would.”
There were decisions to be made and plans to put in place once we watched the video. I have to hand it to him, Mr. Smith has all but turned the key in the lock on my jail cell.
Ryan follows me into our room and watches as I pull out a change of clothes from my bag. “I talked to Rachel earlier,” he says. “She’ll be in Atlanta tomorrow afternoon. She was hoping we would get up early and head that way so you two would have a little time to prepare before the interview on Friday. Looks like it’s around a four-to-five-hour drive.”
“Okay.” I move to my bag and grab a change of clothes. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Starved.”
“There’s a pizza place on the other side of the gas station next door. I’ll run over there while you’re showering.” He steps close, giving me a quick kiss, then leaves the room.
Moving my stuff to the bathroom, I dig through my toiletries bag for some Advil. My headache from this morning is back. I can tell the bottle is empty before I pull it out.
I hesitate a second about whether to call Ryan and ask him to pick up some for me or to just head to the vending machine in the elevator corridor, where I know there is an assortment of single-dose packets like I bought this morning.
My head is pounding, so I opt for the vending machine since the pizza could take a while.
I’m still dressed, so all I need to do is slip into my shoes. I’m almost to my destination when the conversation drifting from the open space where the vending machines are makes me pause. It could be any of the guests staying here, but my gut tells me to be on alert.
I inch closer. Leaning against the brick wall behind me, I slow my breathing and close my eyes. I invite my other senses to take over, hoping to pinpoint what has me feeling like this. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Two voices, both male. One much deeper than the other.
I relax into the space. Open myself up to the sounds only a few feet away. Words float my way and it’s easy to pick out the ones that hit home: Atlanta and Amy Holder.
I slide my phone out of my back pocket and text Ryan.
Me: Stay at the restaurant until I tell you to come back. Please don’t ask questions
I press send.
And then hear the familiar chime coming from the same direction as the vending machines.
What. The. Hell.
The faint rumbling of voices continues as I watch the small dots jump around as he replies. My ringer is off so there’s no sound once it’s delivered.
Ryan: Ok let me know what you want me to do
“Fuck, something’s got her spooked.” Ryan’s voice fills the space and I freeze. They’ve moved a little closer to me.
And then another voice I recognize. “Did she say what’s wrong?”
George.
He’s talking to George.
“No. I need to get back. I’ll let you know when we get to Atlanta.”
“And if she doesn’t make it on time tomorrow?” George asks.
I take a deep breath. No, no, no. Not this.
“I’ll let you know what I want to do. I don’t like all that information out there like that.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you,” George says. “And here, picked this up but couldn’t get it to you before you left town.”
I quietly take a few steps away, then hustle down the side of the building back to our room.
My phone vibrates in my hand, alerting me to an incoming call just as I’m opening the door. Ryan’s picture fills the screen.
I don’t answer until I’m inside. “Hey.”
“Hey, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Freaked myself out.” My voice is frazzled but I’m hoping it plays to what I’m telling him, not because of what I’ve discovered.
“I’m coming back. Hold on, I’ll be right there,” he says, and ends the call.
I shuck off my shoes and jeans, then move into the bathroom. I cut on the water in the shower before wrapping one of the thin, white towels around me. I give myself a moment to take several deep breaths in and out to slow my racing heart.
Then I hear the door opening.
“Evie!”
I poke my head out of the bathroom. “In here.”
He’s by my side in seconds. His arms pull me in and close around me like a vise. I force mine to do the same to him. “What happened?” If I didn’t know who he had just been talking to, I would be flattered by his concern.
I squeeze my eyes closed and count to five. Another deep breath in, deep breath out.
“It’s nothing, I swear. Heard something outside. Ended up being one of the janitors banging around out there.”
Opening my eyes, I see our tight embrace reflected in the bathroom mirror behind him. And papers rolled up like a tube shoved in his back pocket. Those must be what George handed him.