Page 4 of Stone
Since then, they’d had coffee twice, but tonight they had a dinner date. She’d already rescheduled once when a family situation had taken her away from Mystery Lake for a few weeks. She didn’t want to do it again. Then again, she wasn’t exactly in the right headspace to be enjoying time with the charming and hot-as-hell biker.
She drummed her fingers against her thigh, debating something that really shouldn’t be a debate. She’d just heard two people plotting a murder; she needed to figure out their identities and what to do with the information, not be thinking about her date. But she’d been on the receiving end of her fair share of serial cancellations and didn’t want Simon to think she’d lost interest. Nothing could be further from the truth.
She sighed and decided to focus on one thing at a time. She’d return to the reception, see if Suit and Blue were still enjoying the open bar, then make her decision. Maybe they’d already be gone and at least one choice would be made for her.
After a side trip to the restroom and a conversation with a colleague, she entered the cramped reception area. Waiters bustled about clearing tables, a caterer hovered over the dessert station, and the bartender, not surprisingly, still had a line.
Scanning the room, she spotted her mentor—Dr. Hammel had been her adviser during graduate school, and she also sat on the Historical Society board. The woman was deep in conversation with two men, giving Juliana an excuse not to approach her. Continuing her search, she noted that several of her librarian colleagues had already left. The attendees who remained appeared to be city officials, employees of the Historical Society, and (she’d guess) donors.
Who she didn’t see was either Blue or Suit. Hope flickered in her chest, and a tiny bit of tension left her body as she swept her gaze around the room again, this time with more intention. When she didn’t see either man on her second pass, she let out a long, quiet exhale.
They’d left.
She’d fooled them.
Andtheir absence meant she didn’t have to make the choice whether to stay or go. One decision down, one to go. Now all she had to think about was her date.
She kept a wary eye out as she pushed through the heavy doors of the society’s headquarters and descended the wide stone steps to the street. After handing the valet her ticket, she turned her attention to the streets of San Francisco as she waited. Three homeless men sat along a wall opposite her, spaced about forty feet apart. A young woman with an impressive set of over-ear earphones passed by. Two men in suits, deep in conversation, walked toward city hall.
By the time the valet returned, she was reminded of why she called Mystery Lake home. She loved her job, of course, but she also loved the quiet of her little mountain town. And—bonus—she’d never overheard people plotting murder in public.
Eager to hit the road, she handed the valet a generous tip, then slid behind the wheel. Checking her rearview mirror, she paused as a man emerged from the building she’d only recently left. Phone to his ear, his gaze locked on her car. Or it appeared to—at thirty feet away, she couldn’t really tell, but itfeltthat way.
She studied the unfamiliar figure as she toed off her heels. Driving barefoot wasn’t legal, but then again, her heels shouldn’t be, either.
The man shifted his attention from her car to something inside the building. A pang of annoyance shot through her. She needed to get her head on straight and stop jumping at shadows. If not, she’d drive herself crazyandnot figure out what, if anything, to do about what she’d overheard.
With a shake of her head, she put the car in Drive and pulled away from the curb. Unable to stop herself, she gave the man one last look. And almost wished she hadn’t.
Standing next to him, in the shadows of the ornate stone of the Historical Society, was none other than Suit.
3
Already halfway onto the road, momentum carried Juliana into traffic and away from the two men before she even had a chance to process what she’d seen. Two stop signs later, adrenaline flooded her body—again.
Darting a look in the rearview mirror, she noted a handful of cars. Nothing struck her as out of the ordinary, although she wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell if it were. At least there were no obvious signs of Suit or Blue following her.
She took a shaky breath as it sank in that they’d been watching her. That her ruse hadn’t worked. That Suit and Blue hadn’t dismissed her. At least not entirely.
But what did they plan to do next?
Mindlessly, she followed the car in front of her as she considered that last question. Maybe they just wanted to watch her and assure themselves that she hadn’t overheard their conversation.
Or had they seen through her charade completely and had something nefarious planned for her?
Her stomach clenched at that thought. There were miles of mountain roads between San Francisco and Mystery Lake. She’dread far too many thrillers to think it a good idea to travel them if someone followed her. Which meant she needed to take an alternate route home just to be on the safe side. And if she was overthinking things, well, at least she was alone and there’d be no witnesses to her madness.
Taking a fortifying breath, she looked in her rearview again, taking closer note of the cars behind her. Then making the next right turn, she began winding her way through the streets of San Francisco toward the Golden Gate Bridge. Rather than travel straight east from the city, she’d head north, then east, then back south. The route was much longer, but the roads were wider and more heavily traveled.
By the time she reached the iconic bridge, a growing sense of irritation snaked through her. Spotting a tail was nowhere near as easy as her books made it seem. Yes, she read fiction. And yes, the heroes and heroines were smart and resourceful and strong, and, in all reality, unrealistic (wasn’t that what escapism fiction was all about??). Nevertheless, they’d given her unrealistic expectations.
Of course, it was possible she hadn’t spotted a tail because there wasn’t one. But everyone and their dog seemed to drive either a gray Tesla, a compact SUV (and no, she couldn’t tell them apart), or a generic sedan. Five people could be following her and she’d never be able to single them out. Not without reading license plates. And taking her eyes off the road long enough to do that seemed a perilous option.
She’d committed herself to a path, though, and wasn’t about to waver. Maybe she’d have more luck the farther away from the Bay Area she traveled. With less traffic, hopefully, she’d either spot a tail or confirm no one followed her.
After crossing the bay, she continued north toward Novato, then headed east on Highway 37. She didn’t put much faith in her abilities, but as she merged onto Interstate 80, she felt fairlycertain no one tailed her. That didn’t mean she was safe; they could still find where she lived from her license plate. But for now, she could settle into the drive and consider what to do next.
Glancing at the clock on her dash, her stomach pitched. She still had to decide what to do about her date. Even if she wanted to keep it, her longer route home would make her thirty minutes late. If she didn’t hit traffic.
