The Killing Game(78)

Once more she pounded on the door.

Once more no one answered.

She thought about her friend and remembered she kept a spare key in a magnetic box inside the wheel of her car. If she went searching around her car, would people wonder what the hell she was up to? Probably.

She dialed her friend’s number again. Trini’s cell went straight to voice mail. “Call me, Trini,” she said. Hung up, then exhaled heavily and sent yet another text: I’m here. At your house!

Still nothing.

“Oooh.” She almost threw her phone in frustration. She so needed to talk to someone. Maybe she should just call Luke back, ask to meet him. She knew he was working, but she didn’t know what that entailed. Was it an all-day thing, or could he knock off early? If he even wanted to, she reminded herself. She was going to see him tonight one way or another, so maybe she should just wait for that.

After a few moments of pacing in front of Trini’s door, she called Trini’s workplace and asked if she had a class.

“Finch?” the guy who’d answered the phone asked. “She blew off two classes already today,” he said, sounding pissed.

“She did?”

“Uh-huh. She’s got another one at four, but I’ve been calling her and there’s been no response. None.”

“I’m a friend of hers. This isn’t like her.” At least not when it came to her job.

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed, but he wasn’t happy about it. “We’re scrambling around here, trying to get people to cover for her and . . . oh hell, look, if you find her, she’d better be dead, cuz that’s the only excuse I want to hear why she couldn’t call in.” He clicked off.

Now Andi was nonplussed. Trini had blown off two classes and maybe wasn’t going to make a third? That just didn’t compute. Trini was flaky about certain things, but she took her classes very seriously.

She tried to peer through the window again. Was that a person on the couch? Possibly Trini? She wished there was a light on; it was a dark afternoon and the interior of the apartment was darker still.

She gave up and texted Luke.




My friend Trini missed her classes. Not her usual

MO. Kinda weird. I’m at her apartment. Car’s here

but she’s not.




Maybe she was with Bobby, Andi thought. Trini was seeing him last night and they were supposed to all meet up tonight. Could Bobby talk her into missing her classes, though? Without a heads-up to the club?

A whisper of fear lifted the hairs on Andi’s arms. She didn’t like the way the guy at the club had said she’d better be dead, even though he’d been joking.

“Finch,” he’d said, identifying her to Andi.

Andi stood stock-still. It hadn’t occurred to her during this whole little bird thing that Trini had a last name that was a bird. Trini and Andi had laughed themselves silly when Trini learned that Greg had asked Andi to marry him.

“Jesus, I never thought we’d both be birds,” Trini had said, shaking her head first, then breaking out laughing.

“Birds of a feather stick together,” Andi had responded, and they’d shared a rare moment of hilarity, even though Trini hadn’t really wanted Andi to marry Greg.

It’s too bad when little birds have to die . . .

Andi clenched her teeth. What if something had happened to Trini? Was that too far-fetched to consider? It was crazy. Pointless. But the fear that was filling her veins with ice was very real.

Luke texted back: Where’s the apartment?

Andi checked the address and texted it back to him, adding: I know where a key is.

He responded with: I can be there in thirty minutes?

She knew he was asking if her concern warranted him joining her. She thought about it a minute, then answered: Yes, come.

She stood outside another ten minutes, then went down to Trini’s car. Luckily, she was dressed in jeans as she knelt on the pavement near the front passenger wheel well and ran her hand around inside. She failed to find the magnetic box, so she moved to the rear wheel and reached forward, searching blindly. She was about to give up when her fingers connected with something. She struggled a bit trying to break the magnetic grip, but suddenly it broke free.

Feeling like a sneak thief, she curled her fingers around the tiny box and ran back to Trini’s front door. Her fingers were shaking as she slid open the tiny metal door to reveal two keys: one to Trini’s car, the other to her apartment. Andi plucked the apartment key out and shut the metal receptacle again, pocketing it for the moment. She checked the time on her phone. Luke still had ten minutes.

Maoffybe she was borrowing trouble. Influenced by her own problems. The Carreras or Scott Quade would have no reason to hurt Trini. Yes, she’d gotten in Brian or Blake’s face at Lacey’s, but from both Trini and Jarrett’s accounts, it hadn’t been that serious of a confrontation.

Just do it. Open the damned door!

Apprehension skidded down her spine.

Setting her jaw, she threaded the key in the lock, aware that her pulse was escalating. With a click, the door unlocked and she slowly pushed it open.

Trini was sitting up, slumped over on the couch, her eyes open, her tongue out. She seemed to be staring at Andi, her expression frozen in a look of horror, her clothes ripped and hanging off her.

One look and Andi knew her friend was dead.