You'll Be the Death of Me(28)

“Ivy Sterling-Shepard and Mateo Wojcik.”

    “What?” For a second, she looks confused instead of distraught. “The ones from your old web comic? I thought you said you don’t talk to them anymore.”

We don’t have time for the Greatest Day Ever parking lot reunion story. “Sometimes I do,” I say vaguely. “They felt like skipping, too, so…we did.”

“Huh.” She’s quiet for a moment, absorbing that, then says, “Do they…you didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

“No,” I say, and her face blooms with relief.

“Oh, thank God. Thank you for that, Cal.” She grabs both my hands in hers and squeezes tightly before releasing them. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but—can you please keep this to yourself? I have to talk to my friend about what happened. It’s very delicate, since we’re not supposed to be using the building. And the fact that you and I spent time there recently is…awkward, under the circumstances.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say, feeling a weird mixture of relief and disappointment. Part of me was hoping she’d come up with a solution to this mess that doesn’t involve me continuing to lie to everyone I know, while the rest of me knows there isn’t one. “It’s just…I don’t know if we did the right thing by leaving, you know? And it was my idea, because…” Because I wanted to protect you. It’s not the only reason—I was also panicked and confused and afraid of somehow getting arrested—but it was a big one.

Lara reaches out to squeeze my hands again. “It doesn’t sound like you could have done anything to help Brian. And honestly, I think you and your friends being there would only have been a distraction for the police. They need to focus on whatever evidence is in the room, not on people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

    Like Boney, I think. My eyes start stinging then, and I blink so rapidly that Lara says, “Oh Cal, it’s going to be all right. Here, let me get you a tissue.” I’m still blinking, my vision cloudy, when her voice suddenly changes. “What the hell? Where’s my bag?”

I wipe my eyes and try to focus on the table next to us. “Wasn’t it there?” I ask, my gaze sweeping across the empty bench where I saw it last. “Did it fall or something?” I lean for a closer look under the table, but the floor is empty, too.

“Oh my God. Did someone take it?” Lara’s face floods with color as she jumps to her feet and looks around frantically. “Excuse me,” she says to an older woman having a cup of tea by herself two tables over. “Did you see a red bag anywhere? Like a tote bag, about this big?” She holds her hands a foot apart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” the woman says. “But I just got here.”

“Who steals another person’s bag in the middle of a coffee shop?” Lara asks, putting her hands on her hips as she glares around us. “My keys are in there! How am I supposed to get home?” Then she seems to realize how much attention she’s drawing to herself, and takes a deep breath. When she speaks next, it’s in a much calmer voice. “Okay. First things first. I’m going to check with the cashier up front, on the off chance that one of the waitstaff thought it belonged to someone else.”

I grasp that straw with all the enthusiasm I can muster. “That’s probably exactly what happened,” I say, falling into step behind her as she weaves her way through the room toward the cash register. The line is six people deep, but Lara sidles right up to the counter and waves at the guy taking orders. He’s a few years older than me, arms covered in elaborate tattoos, and he smiles when she catches his eye.

    “Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” Lara says breathlessly. “I’m not ordering, but I seem to have misplaced my bag, and I was wondering if anyone might have turned it in?”

I expect the guy to shake his head, but he pauses with one hand on the register. “What does it look like?” he asks.

“Red leather, brown strap? The front pocket has a gold clasp.”

“Sounds familiar.” The guy reaches beneath the counter, and pulls out her missing bag with a flourish. Lara exhales in relief as he hands it over. “Some girl said she grabbed it by mistake,” he says.

“Oh, thank God.” Lara unzips the front pocket and pulls out her wallet first, then her keys, before dropping them back inside. “Safe and sound. Thank you so much!”

“Anytime.” The guy grins, happy to play the hero, even though he didn’t do anything except happen to be on point for the lost and found.

“Whew, that gave me a scare.” Lara slings the bag over her shoulder and puts her hand over her heart, leading me away from the line to a less crowded space near the restrooms. “What an absolute nightmare of a morning. Cal, I feel terrible leaving you, but I need to figure some things out. Then we’ll see where we land, okay?”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Before she can answer, her phone rings in her hand. She looks down and holds up a finger. “Hang on, this is my friend who used to rent the studio. I’d better take it. Please don’t say a word to anyone until we talk again, all right? Everything will be okay, I promise.” I nod, and she quickly pecks my cheek before turning away with her phone to her ear. “Dominick? Dominick, is that you? I can barely hear you. I’m going to find someplace quieter.” She heads for the café exit, and I slump against the wall. I can’t decide if I actually feel worse after talking with Lara, or just no better.