Page 6 of Our Little Secret
“Mm.”
“Weird. I had such a crush on him my freshman year.” She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A low-riding Honda wheeled into the lot, taking a space three slots down, the thump of bass audible through the driver’s open window. He, a boy of about eighteen, cut the engine and unfolded his lanky frame from the car before heading toward the glass doors.
From the other end of the connection, Andrea said, “Oh crap, look at the time! Sorry, I’ve gotta run. DJ can’t seem to find his soccer cleats for the third time this week. But warn Marilee, okay? About Alli. We need to be super-vigilant. More than ever. Later!” And then she was gone.
Leaning back in the seat, Brooke bit her lip. New fears crowded through her mind as she continued to watch her daughter. Marilee, her near-black hair pulled back into a long ponytail, was currently going through her routine. Her face was set, her expression determined, her shoulder muscles straining as she spun around the upper bar, then swung to the lower bar while her coach, a fit woman pushing forty, stood nearby.
At fourteen, her daughter was a good if not stellar student and a dedicated if not naturally talented athlete. Also, in Brooke’s opinion, Marilee seemed more mature than some of her friends, and, as an only child, more than a little self-centered. Then again, what teenager wasn’t? And having a sibling didn’t make everything all peaches and cream. Didn’t Brooke know that from personal experience? It wasn’t as if having a sister had helped smooth out the treacherous road of adolescence for her. In fact, it had only deepened the ruts.
And as for being self-centered?
Was Marilee any worse than Brooke? She had only to remember rear-ending the car in front of her to remind herself of her total self-absorption.
How had she missed the warning of the Porsche’s glowing taillights? And how had she not seen the kid with the ball in the street ahead? The boy could have been seriously injured or even worse. And what about the older couple in the Buick behind her? They had appeared fragile and certainly could have sustained serious injuries. Maybe even had a stroke or a heart attack from the stress? Who knew? Not to mention the ass she’d rear-ended. More than his ego could have been bruised had her Explorer pushed his car into oncoming traffic.
Still, Gustafson was a prick. A major prick! And she’d hated that she had felt forced to play the my-husband-is-a-lawyer card, but the jerk had goaded her into it.
But what about the call she’d received? Who was behind the whispered warning?
He’s not who you think he is.
The single sentence revolved through her mind in an endless loop.
Someone was aware of her affair with Gideon Ross. Someone who had her private phone number.
Who?
Until that call, she’d believed only she and Gideon knew of their involvement. Brooke had told no one. But what about Gideon? How did she know she could trust him to keep his lips sealed?
A sick feeling came over her.
What had she been thinking? Why had she gotten involved with him in the first place?
Before she allowed herself to go there, to get into her own psyche, she reminded herself that she was going to break it off with him anyway. Time to calm down. It wasn’t a problem.
Yet.
And there were bigger issues to worry about with the girls missing from Allsworth High.
She picked up the burner phone, studied the Recent Call menu, but there had been no name attached to the warning call. Just “Unknown Caller” and a phone number. Without thinking twice, she hit the button to return the call. It rang, and she felt her whole body tense. She would demand answers.
Who are you?
What do you want?
What do you mean, “he’s not who you think he is?”
What the hell do you think you know?
And, most importantly, she’d issue her own warning:Don’t ever call me again.
But she never got the chance. The phone disconnected after the fifth—or was it the sixth—ring? No voicemail.
Her stomach roiled. This was no good. Her secret fling had been discreet and now short-lived, but someone knew. And they were calling.
Who? Her mind spun with possibilities and came up empty. She’d been careful.
But what about Gideon? How careful had he been?
