Page 79 of Hiss and Make Up
She shrugged. “A neon flashing sign would have been nice.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that kind of optimism.
“What about you?” she asked. “You have the email evidence. Why did you break in? No, wait…why did youtryto break in?”
“Hey, I’m in here, aren’t I?”
“Only because I forgot to lock the door. You’d have never made it in without me.”
She was right. Not to mention he felt like a jerk about the check, even if he was still uneasy about the conversation he’d overheard. So he kept quiet and let her have that little victory. A flood of relief hit him when the desktop popped on the screen with a huge photo of half-dressed blonde women wearing bright underwear, cowboy hats, and snakeskin boots on the deck of a space ship.
“What the hell is that?” Sierra asked.
“Welcome to Adrien’s brain,” he said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He swirled the mouse and watched the cursor zoom across the screen while he decided where to go first. He wasn’t sure what they were looking for, but he was pretty sure any evidence would be on this computer. Unfortunately, it was hard to focus with Sierra leaning over his shoulder and breathing across his ear.
He leaned his head away from her. “Do you mind?”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms. “Please, continue, Mr. Snooping Expert.”
Marc clicked open Adrien’s email, figuring that was as good as any place to start. Sierra put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He was about to ask her what the hell she was doing when he heard a knock on the front door.
That dog had nearly ripped off its chain trying to get at Marc, but it couldn’t give them a warning that someone was there?
A second later, keys jingled outside.
19
He clicked the mail closed and grabbed Sierra by the wrist, dragging her to the floor. They scooted under Adrien’s twin bed and shimmied close together, while someone entered the mobile home humming.
Definitely female. Definitely not Adrien.
Sierra sniffled from the dusty and moldy carpet inches below her face. Her eyes closed and Marc willed her to hold it together.No sneezing. His heart raced—a product of both the situational adrenalineandhis proximity to Sierra.
Marc watched the doorway, straining to hear anything that might clue him in to who this could be. The sound was too muffled from their location to identify them. If he even knew this person at all.
“Adrien? You here?” A pause, then, “Did something happen to your car?”
The humming trailed off, and burgundy, high-heeled shoes thumped over the kitchen linoleum. The fridge door opened and closed, then more humming.
The woman walked down the hall, straight towards them, and entered the bedroom. He squeezed Sierra’s hand. While Marc held his breath the stranger walked to the computer and began clicking and typing. He scooted commando-style towards the edge of the bed for a better look at their mystery woman, but he loosened more dust and had to stop to fight off a sneezing attack of his own.
The woman switched off the bedroom light and exited the room. A moment later, the front door opened and shut and the lock clicked into place.
Sierra held up a hand, urging him to wait. A few moments later, Marc heard a car engine.
They nodded in agreement, then crawled out from under the bed and rushed to the window. He hoped to catch the license plate, but when they peeked through the blinds they found that the car had already turned onto the winding road that ran along the bayou. Trees lined the ditch, so all Marc could see was that it was a dark-colored car.
Sierra turned away from the window. “Any idea who that was?”
“Chloe?”
“Nope. Wrong shoes.”
Marc sat at the computer again. “You have a mental catalog of Chloe’s shoe inventory?”
“If it was Chloe, those would be bright, flirty heels. Those were serious shoes.”
