Want to Know a Secret? (80)



“I have to call the police. It’s our policy to prosecute shoplifters.”

“Right. But you don’t tell her that.”

Maria narrows her eyes at me. “Okay… But where do I get a confession?”

“Do you have a computer? I can type one up for you. It’s not rocket science.”

I have seen enough signed confessions before, so I’m able to have one typed up in five minutes. And just as I predicted, April is only too happy to sign—Elliot will go nuts when he finds out. Any good lawyer will get it thrown out of court, but I want to stick it to April.

Maybe this will teach her a lesson.





Chapter 52


The next night, while the boys are in bed and I’m watching television on my sofa, I get the phone call.

It’s Brianna.

“Julie.” Her voice is a whisper. “April is following me.”

Last night, Brianna told Elliot everything. She told me he just seemed dazed. Tried to convince her to get rid of the baby. She told him no, and he said he had to think about it. Obviously, he told April everything. And this morning, she came to my house looking for me, and she ended up running into April and they had a huge confrontation in front of her house.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes.” I hear the screeching of wheels. “I’m driving home and her white SUV is right behind me. I tried to make a few turns down empty streets, just to make sure. She’s definitely following me.”

“Did you call the police?”

There’s a long silence on the other line. “If I call the police, Elliot is going to hate me.”

“Brianna.” I stand up from the couch and start pacing. “You have to call the police.”

“I’m almost home,” she says. “I see a parking spot. I’m going to pull in.”

“Call the police,” I repeat. My knuckles are turning white as I grip the phone. “Brianna, you have to call the police. She’s dangerous.”

“Look, we’re in the middle of the street. She’s not going to do anything to me out here. I’ll be home in a minute.”

I glance out the window. “But it’s dark.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I get inside.”

“Brianna—”

But the line is dead.

I stare down at the phone. I’m itching to call the police, but I don’t know what I would say. I don’t even know where Brianna lives. A woman is being followed by another woman, but I’m not sure where she is. Yeah, they’d get on that right away.

I sit back down on the sofa, but I can’t relax. I keep waiting for Brianna’s call.

And I wait.

And wait.

Thirty minutes later, it’s painfully obvious I’m not going to hear from Brianna. I dial her number, but nobody answers. She never made it home. April got to her first.

I have to tell the police, but what can I say? I wish she had told me where she lived. I get the feeling it isn’t a great neighborhood.

I look in my phone contacts. There’s only one person I could call at this hour who could help me. I select Riley Hanrahan’s number.

I hesitate for a moment, feeling a little awkward about calling him. A year ago, after he helped me get that information about Courtney Burns, I then told him everything was fine and I didn’t want to pursue it further. He realized something was up, and he sent me a few more text messages to make sure I was okay. He even tried calling. But I didn’t take the call.

Still, there’s nobody else I can talk to about this.

“Jules?” His voice sounds muffled. “Is that you?”

“Um, yeah…”

“Geez, it’s been a while.” He yawns. “What’s up?”

“I… I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?”

He hesitates. “A little. What’s wrong?”

It’s such a relief to tell somebody else the entire story. I start at the beginning and ramble on for several minutes. It sounds crazy, even to my own ears. But Riley is silent on the other line, listening. I get to the part about Brianna being followed by April, and then the purpose of the call: “I think April did something to her.”

“Jesus Christ, Jules,” Riley mutters. “You really took the law into your own hands. I think you need to get back to work. Or else… I don’t know… get a dog or something.”

I feel a lump in my throat. “You don’t believe me…”

“Of course I believe you. I just wish you would’ve called me sooner.”

My shoulders sag. “Will you help me?”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” He grunts on the other line. “This isn’t my… you know, jurisdiction. But I’ll work it out. Just hang tight. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll call you later tonight.”

“Thanks, Riley.”

But I have a horrible feeling it’s too late.

_____



The phone wakes me up at one in the morning.

I’m lying in bed next to Keith, but I’m not asleep. I’m lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Keith is about three feet away from me, as far as he could possibly be while still in the same bed, and he’s snoring up a storm. He has horrible sleep apnea, but he refuses to wear the CPAP machine that his doctor prescribed. Most nights, I sneak into the guest room and sleep there. Besides snoring like a chainsaw, Keith is also a bed hog. I prefer to sleep alone.

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