Chapter 244

“Um, Daisy, he’s still behind us,” Amy said as we reached the city limits.

“I know. Before you get to the light at Oak Street, make a quick right,” I said. “Don’t use your turn signal.” I had my phone in my hand, ready to call for help. The man following us couldn’t be a coincidence.

Amy did as I asked, but the old pickup stayed with us.

“Maybe we should call the police,” Amy suggested.

“I doubt they can do anything yet,” I said. “The guy hasn’t done anything to us. We need to lose him.”

I thought for a moment. “Pull into the Market Street strip mall, drive around the building, and leave by the back entrance.”

“Good idea,” Amy agreed.

She pulled into the strip mall and pretended to be looking for a parking space as we passed the drug store, the liquor store, a supermarket, and a hair salon.

The pickup tried to hide from our view and didn’t see when Amy suddenly drove along the side of the hair salon and pulled onto an alley that led to North Front Street.

She made a few more random turns before pulling in at a donut shop and parking behind a panel van. We sat in the locked car and waited for the man to arrive.

He didn’t. The sense of relief made us giddy.

“I don’t know about you, but all that excitement gave me a craving for a mocha latte,” she said.

“That sounds good.” I agreed. “We can sit next to the windows and watch for the pickup truck.”

We exited the Mercedes, and Amy locked it with her key fob before we went inside.

“What do you think he wanted?” she asked as we sat down with our coffees.

I shrugged. “It was probably some random jerk who likes to hit on young girls.”

“Ugh, I hate that,” she groaned.

I didn’t want to alarm Amy, but the way he was looking at her in the diner gave me the shivers. It made me think it was something other than an older guy looking for a date.

I decided to watch for the truck and changed the subject.

“I think I’m going to major in journalism,” I said. “It will allow me to make a difference in more people’s lives than if I were a lawyer.”

“That’s true,” Amy said. “Now, where are you going to apply?”

Definitely Frampton University, and I think Fairton University, and Dearborn University,” I replied.

Amy cheered. “I liked them the best, too, and all three have an excellent journalism program. Let’s go to my apartment and look over all the information packets. I think we need to have our applications in by next week for the fall semester.”

We carefully left the donut shop. I looked around for the man in the pickup truck, but there was no sign of him.

“We lost our stalker and got a latte out of it,” Amy giggled. “Yay, us.”

I giggled as we climbed into the car. Our mood was much lighter as we drove to the restaurant. Before going upstairs to the Gray’s apartment, we stopped in the kitchen to see Mr. Gray.

“How was your day, girls?” he asked.

“Frampton U is on our must-apply list,” Amy replied. “It has a nice campus, friendly students, and a great journalism program.”

He looked confused. “I thought Daisy wanted to be a lawyer.”

“I changed my mind,” I said. “Amy pointed out that I could do more good for more Betas and Omegas by being a journalist.”

“Then, I wish you luck with it,” he said.

“We’re going upstairs to look over information packets.” Amy kissed Mr. Gray’s cheek. “I’ll be down to help you before the dinner rush.”

We went out the restaurant’s back door, and Amy checked their mailbox before going upstairs to the apartment she shared with Mr. Gray. There were several envelopes in the mailbox that she tucked under her arm and took upstairs with us.

Amy dropped the mail on the table and was about to open the information packets when she noticed the return address on an engraved envelope.

“It’s from the browns, Justin’s parents,” she gasped. “Why are they sending me a letter?”

“Open it and find out,” I suggested.

“They’ve been polite to me lately,” she said. “I hope it’s nothing bad.”

“Open it,” I repeated.

Amy closed her eyes and tore open the thick, creamy envelope. Then she crossed her fingers and read what was inside.

“It’s an invitation to a party the Browns are having next week,” she said. “I can’t believe they invited me to a party at their home! Ooh, you have to come too.”

“I think they expect you to go with Justin,” I said.

“No, goofy, look.” Amy held out the invitation for me to read. “His mom wrote a note at the bottom that says she invited you and Victor.”

“Then we will be there,” I assured her.

“Oh, I’m so excited,” Amy squealed. “What do I wear?”

“The invitation says it’s a cocktail party,” I said. “I guess we’ll go to Gisele’s for new cocktail dresses and shoes.”

“Ooh, shopping!” Amy gushed. “When do you want to go?”

“Any morning or afternoon,” I replied. “I have lots of free time with Victor learning the ropes to take over the association's leadership.”

“Justin offered to take me away somewhere romantic so we can finally do it,” she said. “But I don’t think I want to plan or schedule the first time I have sex. I want it to happen naturally. Or do you think that’s a silly idea?”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” I said. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable is best.”

I could tell losing her virginity was weighing on Amy’s mind. But Justin wasn’t the type of guy to pressure her.

“You need to talk to him and tell him exactly how you feel,” I advised. “When the time and place are right, you’ll know.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that,” Amy said. She pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Justin to tell him about the invitation, and then we’ll get to work on filling out some college applications.”

I waited by the kitchen table while she spoke to Justin and noticed a photo on the floor. It was upside down, and at first, I thought it was a photo of Amy.

But when I picked it up, a cold chill ran up my spine. The photo was an extreme close-up of a woman who looked a great deal like Amy.

The woman’s eyes, brows, and hair were exactly like Amy’s, but her nose seemed slightly shorter and broader.

I couldn’t see the woman’s mouth because she was gagged, and there was a terrified look in her brown eyes.

It couldn’t be Amy. Why would she have a photo of herself gagged and looking terrified? The image wasn’t any of my business, yet I needed to know who it was and if she was okay.

Amy finished talking to Justin and came to the table to see what I was looking at.

I held the photo in front of her. “That’s not you, right?”

“Oh, wow!” She took the photo from me and examined it closely. “No, it’s not me. Where did you get it?”

“It was lying on the floor next to the table,” I replied.

Amy looked under the table. “I don’t know where it came from. Maybe Dad knows.”

“Do you think it’s Deirdre?” I asked. “The photo is old, and it’s faded and is crumbling at the edges.”

“It could be her, but where did it come from? And who put a gag in her mouth and took a photo?”

Amy began looking through the envelopes she brought into the apartment from the mailbox.

“What’s this?” She held up a sheet of lined paper that had been folded twice. “It wasn’t in an envelope, so it couldn’t have been mailed.”

Amy unfolded the paper, and her face turned pale as she read the message

“Oh, Daisy,” she groaned. “I can’t believe this. Somebody must have put this note and the photo in our mailbox. Read it.”

I took the paper from her, and my mouth dropped open at the words written in blue ink.

“Deirdre didn’t abandon you. She was murdered.”