“His text said one p.m.”
Something doesn’t feel right, but then again, I could just be seriously paranoid, considering my whole life is like a fucking crime docuseries.
Chase blows out a harsh exhale. “He’s like thirty minutes late already.” He takes his glasses off and tosses them onto the table. “Do you think the Monroes changed their minds?”
Some people walk in, drawing both our eyes, before I answer. “No. I mean, they asked me. Why would they change their minds? Her parents are scared of what I might do to her ...”
He looks confused. “Why the fuck would they be scared of you? I mean, I get wondering why you lied ... but scared? What do they think ...” He chuckles like the thought is ludicrous. “That you’re gonna lose it and ...” He trails off, finally piecing it together. “Did they see the apartment?”
I nod and swipe open Evie’s message, then turn my phone toward him.
He takes off his hat, swipes his hair back, secures it again, and looks at me.
“Fuck. If I wasn’t obligated by best friendship to hate that girl, I’d kinda be turned on right now.”
My forehead wrinkles as I stare at him. He shrugs. “Well, at least you can rest easier, knowing she’s out of Dodge,” he says. “Dude, why do you think your dad is back now? After all this time ...”
“I dunno,” I say honestly. “There are a million reasons, but only he really knows the truth.”
“Hmm,” Chase says, thinking aloud. “You know, if I were a serial killer looking for a cover to wreak havoc, I’d do my worst on Halloween, when everyone’s pretending to be the same as me.”
The door opens again, and we look as a man walks in dressed in a suit and holding a briefcase.
“Is that him?” Chase whispers.
I shake my head, half shrugging. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him before.”
But in answer to our question, he walks past us, joining a table full of people. I let out an audible exhale as I sit back in my chair and interlace my fingers behind my head in frustration, my nerves already on edge.
“Fuck, what is taking so long? Something’s off, man. I know it, and I don’t care if that sounds paranoid.”
“It doesn’t. This is weird. You’re right. Why would he ask you and not show?”
A thought hits me. “Earlier, before we left today, he pinged me his location. I just already knew where the coffee shop was, so I didn’t use it.”
Chase sits up straighter. “Maybe we got the wrong place?”
I nod, smiling. “Maybe we got the wrong place.”
In the back of my mind, I hear the thought—Strange that he hasn’t texted, wondering where I am—but I need to focus on one thing at a time.
I swipe his message open on my phone, see the tiny map icon, and tap on it. A dot shows up with a blue circle around it, growing wider then smaller as it searches to pinpoint his location. Chase and I stare down intently as it homes in on him and finally stops moving.
“Oh shit,” Chase blurts out, then looks around to make sure nobody heard.
We look at each other at the same time that I say, “He’s a block away from here.”
Chase chuckles and crosses his arms, looking way too smug. “See, I’m not the only one that thought a stakeout was a good idea.”
I push up from the table and stand, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of waiting. Grab your shit, Inspector Gadget—we’re going to him.”
Chase says, “Hell yeah,” like we’re heading out on a secret mission. He scrambles to put his sunglasses back on before he grabs his coffee.
I walk out of the shop and pocket my cell as he catches up, grinning at me. “Can we have code names now?”
“I’m gonna make you go back inside ...” My face shoots to his. “I’llmake yougo back inside.”
