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At the Quiet Edge(48)

Author:Victoria Helen Stone

“I’m a reporter,” Alex said. “I worked for a local paper in Memphis, but the newspaper industry is . . .”

Lily winced. “Yeah. Not exactly upwardly trending?”

He smiled. “Not so much. But I’m putting together some freelance work, so hope springs eternal.”

Lily found herself smiling back, which probably wasn’t the appropriate response to his talk of job loss, but he did have a rather infectious grin.

The music from his SUV faded, and a new song started up. Lily felt immediately transported back to college, floating down a slow river with friends during spring break of her freshman year. “Is that Brooke Waggoner?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. I’ve seen her a couple of times. Amazing stuff. You like her?”

“I was obsessed with her second album in college.”

“I covered the music beat for a while in Memphis. She’s a great performer.”

“Cool,” she said, still smiling. When his smile slowly returned, Lily felt a jolt of connection, and the warmth of it startled her. She’d used Tinder a couple of times in the past few years, but she’d barely felt anything at all, even during sex.

She cleared her throat and stood straighter.

Alex said, “Hey, do you want—” at the exact same time she said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

She took a couple of steps past him, and he glanced quickly toward the storage unit. “It’s a mess in there,” he said before backing up to reach for the door pull.

“It’s supposed to be,” she said on a laugh, a little flattered that he wanted to make a good impression.

He tugged the door halfway down and shook his head. “It’s giving me flashbacks to my college apartment, I guess. Never a good look when you’re trying to impress a girl.”

Now she was more than flattered. Now she was slightly alarmed and definitely warmer. “I’ll let you get back to it,” she said too loudly before rushing away down the lane, moving fast toward the fence so she could take a sharp turn toward the office.

“Thanks!” he called after her.

She was actually a little shaky as she forged a path back toward the safety of her desk, nearly jogging the last bit. Her cellphone rang a moment before her foot hit the walkway, and she hadn’t even had a chance to answer the call when she spotted a woman waiting at the door.

Noticing the phone at her ear, Lily called out, “Hello! I’m back. Sorry about that. I was making the rounds.”

It wasn’t until the woman turned fully toward her that Lily recognized her. It was a Neighborhood Storage director. They’d met at a company gathering a few months earlier.

Lily’s feet froze, and she rocked to a stop. Had Detective Mendelson contacted this woman about . . . well, what, exactly? He didn’t know she’d been breaking company rules.

“Lily Brown? Hi, I’m Gretchen. We’ve met before.”

“I remember! I’m sorry, have you been waiting long? I was helping a client with something at his unit.”

“It’s only been a moment. I didn’t call ahead because it’s a surprise audit.”

Audit? Lily’s stomach dropped, weighted down with the sharp tug of awful guilt and the burning knowledge of all those gaps she’d created in the surveillance video. And the knowledge that if Detective Mendelson wanted to turn the screws, he could’ve called corporate and asked a few pointed questions about her history. What if he told them she might be hiding a fugitive on the property? What if the audit was just an excuse to get rid of her?

She met Gretchen’s smile as best she could and patted her pocket twice before realizing she held her keys in her hand. “Let’s get started!” Lily said, hoping for reassuring brightness even as she watched her own hand tremble at the lock.

Gretchen didn’t respond.

CHAPTER 14

His mom was being weirder than normal when he got home, or maybe Everett was just on edge from fear and guilt. He winced when she called his name in an oddly bright voice as he rushed through the office door. “You can go on inside and get yourself a snack!” she added.

He stopped and stared at her overly cheerful tone, then a woman whose head had been hidden by the monitor scooted to the side to wave at him.

“This is Everett,” his mom said, “my son.”

“Hi, Everett, I’m Gretchen.”

He murmured a polite greeting, then moved carefully toward the apartment, eyeing his mom in question. She simply raised her brows too high and smiled, but as he opened the door, he noticed the other woman had a company logo on her shirt. His mom’s boss, maybe.

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