See Me(130)

Maria looked across the table at Margolis, almost afraid to hear what he was going to say next.

“What if,” he finally offered, “Lester and Atkinson are working together? And they’re providing alibis for each other?”

Maria, trying to absorb Margolis’s questions, said nothing.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Margolis said. “And it sounds crazy to me, too, but of the three explanations, it’s the only one that seems to make any sense at all.”

“I’m still not sure why you think Atkinson might be involved in the first place. Maybe Lester had some homeless guy or kid slash my tires and leave the note because he knew he’d have the perfect alibi. Because everything else points to the fact that Lester’s probably working alone.”

“Not everything,” Margolis said. “See, the thing is, I ran the registrations on the cars near the park, just like Colin suggested. And one of them brought up a serious red flag.”

“Why?”

“Because the car in question is registered to Mark Atkinson.”





“Does that make sense to you?” Maria asked Colin after Margolis had left. “About Lester and Atkinson working together?”

“I don’t know,” Colin admitted.

She shook her head. “It’s Lester. Alone. It has to be.” Even to her ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “And if they are working together, why is Atkinson’s car at the park? How did they get away? Lester doesn’t have a car.”

“Like Margolis suggested last night, maybe he stole one.”

She shook her head. “It’s just so confusing. This whole thing is like one of those Russian nesting dolls. Open up one doll, and there’s another one inside, and on and on. And what am I supposed to do now? What if the detective finds something that implicates Atkinson? Am I supposed to get a Fifty-C on Atkinson, too?”

“It might come to that.”

“And what if they can’t find Atkinson, either? Even his mother can’t find him. What good would a Fifty-C do if they can’t serve it right away?”

Colin didn’t answer, but he sensed that Maria didn’t need him to. Her thoughts continued to spin, words tumbling out. “God only knows where Lester is, but it’s the same situation. What good can the Fifty-C do if they can’t find him, either?”

“They will.”

“How?”

Instead of answering, Colin reached for her hand. “For now, I think our best bet is to stick with the plan, especially since there might be two of them.”

“Because you think it’s easier for two people to follow me?”

“Yes. And because until we really know what’s going on, keeping you safe is the only thing we can do.”





After dropping off Maria’s car at her place, Colin and Maria drove to Independence Mall in the Camaro, taking a circuitous route that included side roads and sudden turns. Though neither of them saw anyone in the rearview mirrors, they took no chances.

At the mall, they spent forty minutes walking through different stores, holding hands and examining various things. They backtracked every now and then, studying the faces of those who’d been behind them, but Maria wasn’t certain how much good it was actually doing. While she knew what Lester looked like, Atkinson was a mystery. Colin had logged into her computer with her password that morning and pulled up Pinterest, and she’d found herself scrutinizing Atkinson’s missing persons photo, wondering how accurate it was. He had an unremarkable face, the kind that naturally blended into a crowd, and for all she knew, he could have changed his hair color. Or grown a mustache, or shaved his head. Through it all, Margolis’s theories continued to chase each other through her brain.

Atkinson trying to frame Lester. Lester trying to frame Atkinson. Lester and Atkinson working together. Or was Lester working alone while Atkinson ran off with a girl, and in that case, was the car just a coincidence?

Who knew? Every possibility, when followed logically, broke down somewhere along the way.

Eventually, and according to plan, they made their way to a women’s apparel store. There, Maria pulled a few blouses from the racks, not really caring how they looked but pretending to. Colin stood beside her and casually commented on the items. At noon exactly, she told Colin that she wanted to try the outfits on and walked toward the dressing rooms.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes, Colin,” she called out. As soon as she entered the bank of changing rooms, Lily peeked out from one of the stalls. Maria scooted into the same stall, noting Lily’s outfit: red pumps, jeans, red blouse, and a carnation in her hair. In her hand were a pair of oversized sunglasses and a set of keys; on the floor was a navy-blue tote and a department store bag.

“Oh, sugar. Bless your heart,” Lily said, reaching for her hands. “I know this is a terribly stressful situation for you and I can’t imagine how you’re able to keep your wits about you, let alone remain as gorgeous as you were the first time I saw you. Why, if it was me, my skin would already be breaking out.”

I doubt that, Maria thought. Lily was the kind of girl who’d probably never had a pimple in her life. But it was a sweet thing to say.

“Thank you,” Maria said. “And I know that I’m asking a lot…”