Page 55 of Smoke and Fire
Then three.
By ten o’clock she hadn’t budged from her spot. I couldn’t even snoop on her computer screen because of the angle of where she sat. Every now and then, I thought I saw a glimpse of a familiar social media site in the reflection of the window, but I couldn't be sure. She spent most of her time staring outside, deep lines between her eyebrows.
Whenever I could, I snuck a glance at my phone to check Jess’s social media group. Of no great surprise was the fact that Katrina had activated and posted several times in the main Jess group. Mostly excitement for the launch, nothing that would give her away as being here, unfortunately.
Also nothing of concern.
I doubted she wanted to sniff out the Jess mystery alone, anyway, with all her girlfriends coming tonight. She didn’t seem all that rushed, either. Instead, I pegged her as . . . watchful. Maybe hopeful. Nothing rabid, at least.
Somehow, I had to figure this out. The mystery of it would slay me if nothing else. But there was no way to really suss out the truth unless I cut her a super straightforward question.
Are you stalking Jess?
That seemed even more awkward. Plus, too high-risk. It might make it seem like I knew Jess. Questions and attention would follow. I had to either be more subtle, or not engage at all.
The implications of this woman being Katrina spread out. How long would she stay? Why was it worth it to her to figure out Jess in real life? There had to be some other motive behind it aside from sheer curiosity.
There could be a lot more people in on this, too. What if she had a separate conversation with other people that I couldn’t see? She could be planning said documentary right now. She'd mentioned filming. Had she been haunting different neighborhoods or talking to other people to try to find Jess? I pictured her walking down the street, camera in hand, using a creepy voice to narrate her thoughts out loud.
Nowyouare getting creepy,Inner Me said.
True,I agreed, and shook out of the deepening thoughts.
The morning remained slow for in-person visits, but the drive-through continued with its usual pace until the lunchtime rush around noon.
Katrina actively scoured each person that walked in but never spoke to them. Thankfully, no one stayed for long. The lulls passed while I puttered through the daily checklist. With Katrina there, it felt weird to read Jess, despite my hunger to find out what happened next. How Bastian had hooked me so thoroughly, I had no idea.
Around one, I finished the latest round of tasks, audits, and answered questions when Bethany called in about another cancelled event related to the fire. After talking through the changes, Katrina stood up. I glanced up, startled by the movement. She slung her bag over her shoulder and smiled.
“Gotta go pick up my friends and get a few more shots. See you soon? Happy launch day in two days!”
With a wiggle of her fingers, she disappeared outside.
That,Inner Me murmured,is not good news. What was she doing sitting here so long? And why will she see us soon?
“I have no idea,” I whispered, “but it’s probably not good for Bastian.”
THAT EVENING,I double checked the address on Bastian’s text with the house I stared at now.
Correct.
With a grimace, I glanced back to the waiting home. Waist-high fence. Dark windows. Abandoned feeling. Creaky garage door. Faded white paint above a half-wall of red brick that had once probably been bright and happy.
Ooookay.
Definitely should have had Sione come. I glanced to the left, where Mrs. Cortez presumably lived. I had always appropriately pegged her as a hot chocolate-over-coffee kind of woman. I made a mental note to check on her tomorrow. For now, I had to go into this creeptastic house.
With a deep breath for courage, I shut my car door and started up the path. I kept my keys in between my fingers so I could slash out if I needed to, and approached. A rock scraped along the ground when I stepped onto the cement porch. I ignored it and felt along the edge of the door for the key. The tips of my fingers found it at the exact spot where I assumed a spider nest waited, so I quickly yanked it off and shoved it in the door knob. It twisted easily and the door swung open.
“Hello?”
Nobody responded, so I used my fingertips to press the door open wider. It groaned as it swung back, admitting blunted light into a mostly dark room. Despite an aged exterior, the inside had a warm, updated feel. Mostly-new carpet led down a short hallway. A bathroom to the left. Bedroom to the right, framed by a coat closet. I flipped on a light and shut the door, lest the kitty-in-question escape.
“Hello?”
I advanced a few steps, probably imagining a rustle in the back of the house. The kitchen and a living room opened up at the end of the hallway. The entire place smelled a bit like fire and burned wood.
Like Bastian.
