See Me

  Maria thought about it before finally shaking her head. "It still doesn't mean that Lester's gun wasn't real. He could have bought it at a gun show. Or bought it on the street. It's not impossible."

  "True enough," Margolis conceded. "As of now, I'm not ruling anything out."

  "And how do you know that Dr. Manning was telling the truth about his gun in the first place?"

  "Because he showed it to me after the interview, when he was leaving. And yes, it was in a locked case in his trunk." When Maria didn't respond, Margolis went on. "There's something else you should know."

  "What's that?"

  Margolis reached into the file and pulled out an admission form from Plainview Psychiatric Hospital. He slid it across the table to Maria.

  "Lester Manning was in the hospital the night your tires were slashed. I received this fax from Plainview this morning. You can see the date he entered the hospital."

  Even as Maria stared at the document in front of her, she didn't quite believe it.

  "Are you sure this is real?"

  "Yes. Dr. Manning made the request while I was there, and the fax arrived a few minutes later, directly from the hospital."

  "Couldn't Lester have sneaked out? Like he did yesterday?"

  "Not that night. According to their records, he was in his room all night. Staff checked on him every thirty minutes." Maria said nothing. In the silence, Margolis took a sip of his coffee. "Which is part of the reason I wanted to meet with you. If someone else slashed your tires, who could it be? When I posed that question to Dr. Manning, he told me to look into Mark Atkinson."

  "Why?"

  "Because Atkinson might be trying to frame Lester."

  "That doesn't make any sense."

  "Maybe... unless Atkinson knew Lester and had a possible reason. And it just so happens that it might be the case. Lester was the one who introduced Cassie to Atkinson in the first place."

  It took a few beats for Maria to absorb this. "Lester and Atkinson knew each other?"

  "They both work for the same janitorial company. Or used to, anyway. According to Dr. Manning, after Cassie died, Lester and Atkinson had a falling-out. Lester confronted Atkinson about failing to protect Cassie when Laws showed up, called him a coward, and they got into a fight. There's no record of it, but that doesn't mean anything. Most of the time, in situations like this, the police are never called. Long story short, according to Dr. Manning, Atkinson was pissed."

  "And you know that for certain?"

  "Not about the fight. But it's true that Lester and Atkinson worked together. After we talked yesterday, I spoke to Atkinson's mother again, and then a supervisor at the janitorial company. That's what I meant, by the way, when I said that I was looking into different angles. Because something about the way Atkinson just up and left town bothered me as soon as I learned about it. I can kind of accept the idea that he ran off to meet the woman of his dreams or whatever--guys can be stupid like that--but no contact with his mom except for a couple of letters? That had been printed from a computer? No calls or texts to his mom or his friends? When all this with you just happens to be going on? It didn't sit right with me."

  "I still don't understand why Atkinson would come after me, though. Like I told you, I've never met the man."

  "Is it possible that he's angry for the same reason you think Lester is? Because Laws got out of prison and killed Cassie? And he blames you?"

  "Maybe," she said slowly. "But... Lester's been the one following me. He sent the flowers and sent over the drink. Lester's the one who showed up at my house last night..."

  "Exactly," Margolis agreed. "And all of this has made me wonder whether Dr. Manning was wrong about the relationship between Lester and Atkinson. If he's right, and Atkinson is trying to frame Lester, then how did he get Lester to play along so perfectly? Especially when you take last night into account? If you throw that idea out, however, it leaves us with a couple of other possibilities. The first is that Lester somehow knew that Atkinson was going to go after you, and he decided to join in. Of course, that raises the question as to how Lester would know what Atkinson was planning, which opens a whole new can of worms. If we put aside that idea, too, however, there's also a third possibility."

  Maria looked across the table at Margolis, almost afraid to hear what he was going to say next.

  "What if," he finally offered, "Lester and Atkinson are working together? And they're providing alibis for each other?"

  Maria, trying to absorb Margolis's questions, said nothing.

  "I know what you're thinking," Margolis said. "And it sounds crazy to me, too, but of the three explanations, it's the only one that seems to make any sense at all."

  "I'm still not sure why you think Atkinson might be involved in the first place. Maybe Lester had some homeless guy or kid slash my tires and leave the note because he knew he'd have the perfect alibi. Because everything else points to the fact that Lester's probably working alone."

  "Not everything," Margolis said. "See, the thing is, I ran the registrations on the cars near the park, just like Colin suggested. And one of them brought up a serious red flag."

  "Why?"

  "Because the car in question is registered to Mark Atkinson."

  "Does that make sense to you?" Maria asked Colin after Margolis had left. "About Lester and Atkinson working together?"

  "I don't know," Colin admitted.

  She shook her head. "It's Lester. Alone. It has to be." Even to her ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "And if they are working together, why is Atkinson's car at the park? How did they get away? Lester doesn't have a car."

  "Like Margolis suggested last night, maybe he stole one."

  She shook her head. "It's just so confusing. This whole thing is like one of those Russian nesting dolls. Open up one doll, and there's another one inside, and on and on. And what am I supposed to do now? What if the detective finds something that implicates Atkinson? Am I supposed to get a Fifty-C on Atkinson, too?"

  "It might come to that."

  "And what if they can't find Atkinson, either? Even his mother can't find him. What good would a Fifty-C do if they can't serve it right away?"

  Colin didn't answer, but he sensed that Maria didn't need him to. Her thoughts continued to spin, words tumbling out. "God only knows where Lester is, but it's the same situation. What good can the Fifty-C do if they can't find him, either?"

  "They will."

  "How?"

  Instead of answering, Colin reached for her hand. "For now, I think our best bet is to stick with the plan, especially since there might be two of them."

  "Because you think it's easier for two people to follow me?"

  "Yes. And because until we really know what's going on, keeping you safe is the only thing we can do."

  After dropping off Maria's car at her place, Colin and Maria drove to Independence Mall in the Camaro, taking a circuitous route that included side roads and sudden turns. Though neither of them saw anyone in the rearview mirrors, they took no chances.

  At the mall, they spent forty minutes walking through different stores, holding hands and examining various things. They backtracked every now and then, studying the faces of those who'd been behind them, but Maria wasn't certain how much good it was actually doing. While she knew what Lester looked like, Atkinson was a mystery. Colin had logged into her computer with her password that morning and pulled up Pinterest, and she'd found herself scrutinizing Atkinson's missing persons photo, wondering how accurate it was. He had an unremarkable face, the kind that naturally blended into a crowd, and for all she knew, he could have changed his hair color. Or grown a mustache, or shaved his head. Through it all, Margolis's theories continued to chase each other through her brain.

  Atkinson trying to frame Lester. Lester trying to frame Atkinson. Lester and Atkinson working together. Or was Lester working alone while Atkinson ran off with a girl, and in that case, was the car just a coincidence?

  Who k
new? Every possibility, when followed logically, broke down somewhere along the way.

  Eventually, and according to plan, they made their way to a women's apparel store. There, Maria pulled a few blouses from the racks, not really caring how they looked but pretending to. Colin stood beside her and casually commented on the items. At noon exactly, she told Colin that she wanted to try the outfits on and walked toward the dressing rooms.

  "I'll be out in a few minutes, Colin," she called out. As soon as she entered the bank of changing rooms, Lily peeked out from one of the stalls. Maria scooted into the same stall, noting Lily's outfit: red pumps, jeans, red blouse, and a carnation in her hair. In her hand were a pair of oversized sunglasses and a set of keys; on the floor was a navy-blue tote and a department store bag.

  "Oh, sugar. Bless your heart," Lily said, reaching for her hands. "I know this is a terribly stressful situation for you and I can't imagine how you're able to keep your wits about you, let alone remain as gorgeous as you were the first time I saw you. Why, if it was me, my skin would already be breaking out."

  I doubt that, Maria thought. Lily was the kind of girl who'd probably never had a pimple in her life. But it was a sweet thing to say.

  "Thank you," Maria said. "And I know that I'm asking a lot..."

  "You're doing no such thing," Lily said, "and I do not want to hear another word about it. I'm your friend, and this is what friends do for each other, especially in a situation as frightening as this."

  "I didn't see Evan," Maria commented.

  "He went to the food court a couple of minutes ago. Probably eating something absolutely unhealthy, but considering he's been a sweetheart about all of this, I have vowed to say nothing at all to him about his dietary habits."

  "Do you think it will work?"

  "Of course it will work," Lily said. "People usually see what they expect to see. I learned that in my drama class. I had the most marvelous teacher, by the way. But we'll talk about that later. Let's get started, okay? Colin and Evan are watching the clock as we speak." She handed Maria the tote bag, along with the sunglasses and keys to her car. "Your wig and outfit are in here," she said. "I'm sure what I got will fit perfectly. I suspect that we're the same size."

  Not quite, but close enough, Maria thought. "Where did you get the wigs so quickly?"

  "From a wig shop. Where else? And though they're not perfect--such a thing would be impossible on such short notice--they'll both be more than adequate for our purposes."

  Maria sorted through the tote bag. "I can pay you back for all of this..."

  "No, you most certainly will not. And though what I'm about to say will likely sound awful, all the cloak-and-dagger activity this morning has been a tiny bit exciting. It reminds me of the masquerade ball at my parents' country club. Now let's get started... and don't forget the carnation. That's the kind of detail that people focus on. I'm going to text Evan, and he'll be here in just a few minutes."

  Maria left Lily's dressing room, slipping into the adjoining one. In the tote bag was an outfit that matched the one Lily had been wearing, along with a blond wig and a red carnation. Maria put the outfit on along with the wig and spent a minute adjusting it to her liking. She tucked the carnation into the wig in approximately the same spot Lily had been wearing hers, then put on the sunglasses.

  Up close, she still looked nothing like Lily. But from a distance, maybe...

  She slid on the red pumps and at exactly a quarter past twelve left the dressing room. Evan strode toward her. "Hey, Lily," he said as he approached. "Did you find anything you liked?" In the corner, she saw Colin feigning interest in whatever was on his phone.

  Maria shook her head. Evan leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before reaching for her hand. They exited the store at a leisurely pace, then cut into a department store, making for the exit doors.

  Lily's car was two spaces in. Maria pressed the button on Lily's key chain, unlocking the doors, and got behind the wheel while Evan got in beside her. She checked her watch.

  In the apparel store, Maria knew that Lily would exit in two more minutes, dressed as Maria had been, wearing a dark wig. Colin would take her hand and lead her to another store and dressing room, where Lily would change back into her original outfit. Lily would eventually exit the mall with Evan. Colin, meanwhile, would head to his car alone, as if Maria had never been at the mall at all.

  All of which was probably unnecessary, Maria thought. But the key word, she knew, was probably. With two people possibly following her, neither she nor Colin wanted to take any chances, and both of them wanted her someplace where no one would ever think to look for her, someplace she'd never been before.

  Lily's house.

  Maria started the car and pulled out. No one exited the store behind her, nor did any other cars pull out. She circled the mall, following Evan's directions, and then pulled over as Evan hopped out at another entrance to the mall.

  "Thanks," she said.

  "Glad to do it," Evan said. "And remember, you'll be absolutely safe. Lily and I will be there in a bit with your things, okay?"

  She nodded, still feeling on edge. Exiting the mall lot a minute later, she turned onto the main road. As she'd done way too frequently lately, she made a few random turns and continually glanced into her rearview mirror, feeling her nervousness finally begin to subside.

  No one could have possibly followed her. She was certain about it.

  Well, mostly certain.

  Lately, nothing had seemed certain at all.

  Lily's condo was less than a mile from Crabby Pete's, with private gated parking and living room windows that showcased a spectacular ocean view. It was tastefully decorated in whites, yellows, and blues--no surprise there--and felt both welcoming and comfortable. Maria spent a few minutes staring out over the beach without going outside and finally drew the shades before making her way to the couch.

  She stretched out with a sigh, thinking a short nap was just what she needed. At that moment, the phone that Colin had given her rang, and answering it, she recognized Margolis's voice on the other end.

  "A couple of things. I called my detective friend in Charlotte and left a message for him to see what he can scrounge up on Atkinson, either with his mom or at Atkinson's place, so that part is now in motion. More importantly, I also wanted to let you know the Fifty-C was granted. I'm waiting for the paperwork now."

  "Thank you," she said, leaving the obvious unspoken; that they still needed to find Lester to serve it. And maybe get a second one for Atkinson. When she hung up, she called Colin to tell him, then updated her parents as well. It took a few minutes to get her worried mother off the phone, and when she finally hung up, she realized again how worn out she felt. Like she'd been running nonstop for days, which, in a way, she realized, she had been.

  She closed her eyes again, but sleep didn't come right away. The call with Margolis, as short as it was, had triggered another round of questions. In the end, though, exhaustion eventually won out and she felt herself finally, thankfully, drifting off.

  CHAPTER 27

  Colin

  After hanging up with Maria, Colin grabbed her bags from the car, slid in his earbuds, and got some music going while he brought her computer to the dining room table. There was something he wanted to check, and while he could have mentioned the idea to Maria or Margolis while they'd been having coffee, he'd decided against it. It was a long shot, but now that the 50C was in place, he figured there was no harm in checking it out. And whether or not Atkinson was involved was beside the point; right now, finding Lester was a priority.

  It had come to him that morning. He'd kissed Maria good-bye and on the way to his car, he'd tried to make sense of the facts at hand: that the court order would do no good unless they could find Lester; that time was of the essence; that Lester was dangerous; that he'd shown up with a gun and left Maria terrified; and, of course, that he'd taken her phone...

  Her phone...

  And with that, a memory clic
ked into place, a memory that took him back to the night he'd first met Maria. When it had been storming and he'd pulled over... she'd been skittish because of the way he'd looked after the fight... and she'd asked to borrow his phone because she'd misplaced hers. She'd been rambling a bit, but what had she said?

  He'd paused at his car, trying to remember.

  "I didn't lose lose it... It's either at the office or I left it at my parents', but I won't know for sure until I get to my MacBook... I use that Find My iPhone thing... I can track my phone because it's synced with the computer."

  Which meant, of course, he could track the phone, too.

  It surprised him that Margolis hadn't thought of it. Or maybe Margolis had and he'd already checked, and it had amounted to nothing because Lester had either discarded the phone or turned it off, or the battery had gone dead. Or maybe that constituted information Margolis wasn't allowed to share. At the same time, there'd been so much else going on, it wasn't completely out of the question that the idea had been temporarily overlooked.

  Colin didn't want to get his hopes up--the odds were slim that it would work and he knew it--but a couple of clicks of the cursor later, his heart hammered hard when he understood what he was seeing. The phone was still on and the battery had enough juice to let him know that it was located at a house on Robins Lane in Shallotte, a small town southwest of Wilmington, near Holden Beach. Shallotte was a good forty-five minutes away, and Colin stared at the location, watching to see whether the phone was still on the move.

  It wasn't. The site allowed him to track the phone's previous movements as well, and a couple of clicks later, he learned that the phone had been carried from the Sanchez home to the house on Robins Lane without any detours.

  Interesting. Definitely interesting, but still not proof. Maybe Lester had known the phone could be tracked, and he'd tossed it into someone's car or into the bed of a pickup as he was fleeing. Or maybe he'd dropped it and someone had happened to find it.

  Or maybe Lester was too delusional to even think along those lines.

  No way to know for sure, but worth checking out...