Cutting Ties Page 13

  I pushed back from the table. I’d had enough. “You can do whatever you want. I’m done.”

  I could tell she was seething, but so was I. I really had had enough of her pushing me around like an old broom. She'd manipulated me and bullied me and even when I'd tried to be helpful, all she did was berate me some more.

  “You’re darn right you’re done.” Her voice had elevated to the point that the guy behind the counter was now watching us with unabashed interest. “Because if you don’t get me answers, I’ll make sure you are done at Oasis Ridge. You hear me? You won’t have a job, period.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach but I kept it together, at least in terms of appearances. Coolly, I said, “You can’t even get in the building anymore. You have no power over me.”

  “Is that so?” Anne’s voice dripped with venom. “I have more power than you think. And it'll be my pleasure to show you how much.”

  THIRTY

  I was on my second beer and I was still on edge.

  The alcohol had done nothing to calm my nerves.

  My conversation with Anne had rattled me. There was no denying it.

  Megan and I were sitting on the couch, a pizza box nestled between the two of us. It was the second night in a row that I was having pizza for dinner but I didn’t care.

  Especially because I wasn’t really eating any tonight. My first slice sat mostly untouched on the paper plate in my lap. Megan was on her third.

  She held the gooey slice of pepperoni pizza up and bit into it, extending it away from her as the cheese stretched to unfathomable lengths. It finally broke, swinging like a rope and hitting her chin. She stuffed the long strand in her mouth.

  “You seriously work in the craziest place,” Megan said after she swallowed the mouthful of pizza. “I don’t know how you stay sane.”

  Some days, I wasn’t sure I did.

  I ignored my pizza and sipped the bottle of beer I was holding.

  “So what are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Nothing?”

  I’d filled Megan in on everything that had happened with Anne: the accident and trying to find out who was responsible, and then the latest with Bryce and the photos. Her immediate question was whether or not I had copies of the pics—and then, when I said no, she’d asked for the name of the woman with the wide-open Facebook page who had posted them—but she soon moved away from that and was able to focus on the bigger picture.

  The one thing I avoided telling her was the part about Denise’s involvement. The less people who knew about that, the better. Because she was someone I cared about. I still hadn’t decided what to do with that information, but I didn’t want to inadvertently give anyone else ammunition that might somehow come back to hurt Denise in the future. I didn’t know how they would, but there was always the possibility. Clearly. The pictures Anne had unearthed of Bryce were proof positive of that.

  “I don’t want to do anything,” I told Megan. “I don’t want to help her find out who did it. She’s an awful person. Part of me thinks she deserves what happened to her.”

  She twined a greasy finger around a lock of hair. “So you’re just going to let it go? Just like that?”

  I chewed on my lip. “I think so,” I said finally. “I don’t have any more leads about the car, and like I said, I just don’t care.”

  Megan let the strand of hair go, then picked it back up again. “You know,” she said slowly. “You don’t even know that anything really happened to her car.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it.” She reached for another slice. She was a bottomless pit when it came to food, and it never seemed to affect her figure. I was more than a little envious. “How do you know someone messed with her car?”

  “Because Anne told me.”

  She nodded. “Right. She told you someone had cut the brakes.”

  I nodded.

  “How do you know she was telling the truth?” She bit into her slice. With her mouth still full, she continued talking. “Maybe this is her way of trying to get back at Bryce. You know, trying to frame him because she knows he wants her job.”

  “That feels like a bit of a stretch.”

  “Oh please. It all feels like a bit of a stretch.” She rolled her eyes. “All I’m saying is it’s a possibility.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Think about it.” Megan straightened, tucking her legs underneath her so she was now sitting cross-legged on the couch. The pizza box slid in my direction and I stopped it before it ended in my lap.

  “Think about what?”

  “Their argument happened before the accident, right?”

  I nodded.

  “So let’s say Anne was the instigator, was totally horrible and said inappropriate things and completely bullied him. And she knew he was going to report her for her actions. Wouldn’t it make sense for her to blame him for something and make him take the fall? Because that would basically remove him from the picture, especially if she thought he was after her job.”

  I thought about what she said. “But if she framed him, why wouldn’t she just come out and accuse him? Say something about how she saw him near her car?”

  “Maybe because that would be too obvious?” Megan said. “She wanted you to go digging because you would be a third party who found the information. It would be much harder to refute if you stumbled on the so-called evidence.”

  It still seemed incredibly far-reaching but one thing Megan said stood out. Something that I should have looked into right away.

  The only reason I thought Anne’s car had been tampered with was because she told me it had.

  My gut clenched.

  What if she had been lying about that all along?

  THIRTY ONE

  “You are coming back, right?”

  Lindsay’s voice was a little anxious.

  I smiled at her. “Of course, I just have an errand to run.”

  It was Friday morning and I’d come in to work to meet with the Boy Scout leader who was planning to do the wreath-making day with the residents.

  Lindsay wrung her hands. “I don’t like when people leave in the middle of the day. I…I worry…”

  I felt an immediate pang of sympathy. She was thinking about Anne and what had happened to her.

  The sympathy disappeared pretty quickly, though, as images of that spiteful woman popped in my head.

  The smile on my face tightened. “I will be fine,” I said. “And I will absolutely come back. It’s just a quick errand, I promise.”

  She licked her lips. “Okay. Well, um, stay safe.”

  I hurried out the door before she had a change of heart and decided to physically keep me from leaving the premises.

  I’d stayed up half the night, thinking about my conversation with Megan and berating myself for being so stupid.

  How could I have just blindly believed what Anne had told me about her car? She’d offered the information and I’d accepted it as truth, no questions asked. My first step should have been to go and see the car myself, or at least talk to her mechanic, to verify the information she’d given me.

  I turned the key in my ignition and backed out of my parking space.

  I hadn’t done it originally but I was going to do it now.

  I’d already pulled up Ace Motors on my maps app. Anne had mentioned the name of the place when she told me about the damage and for some reason, it had stuck with me. I was thankful now that it had.

  The shop was less than ten minutes from Oasis Ridge, a quick and easy drive, especially since all of the lights along the way stayed green for me.

  Ace Motors was a small, nondescript business occupying the corner lot on a street that transitioned from commercial to residential. The white stucco exterior had faded to a dull cream, with small cracks dotting the surface. A neon sign in the window advertised that they were open for business. Sure enough, a man in a blue mechanic’s jumpsuit
was in one of the two bays, getting ready to jack up a car.

  I hurried in his direction. I wanted to get to him before he started working on any repairs.

  The mechanic looked up at me. He was a younger guy, probably in his twenties, with a shaved head and cool blue eyes. “Help you?” he asked.

  “I’m hoping you can.”

  He glanced out at my car. “You need service done, it might be a while. Doing front and back brakes on this one.”

  “I don’t need any work done,” I said. “I actually just have a couple of questions about some work you did on a friend’s car.”

  His brow furrowed but he said nothing.

  “Her name is Anne. Anne Engle.” Nothing registered on his face. “It was towed here last week. Some body damage after a car accident.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know nothing about it. One of our other guys might've worked on it. Maybe ask Vince. He’s the owner. He should be back any minute and he might be able to check the work logs.” He pointed to the building. “You can sit in the waiting room and wait.”

  I thanked him and headed into the waiting room, which turned out to be nothing more than a couple of folding chairs and a coffee table littered with old magazines. Along one wall was a water cooler that gurgled every few seconds, but I didn’t know if it was for customers or employees.

  I picked up a racecar magazine and thumbed through it, trying to pass the time. I had no idea if this Vince guy was who I needed to talk to but it was clear that the kid I’d just spoken with didn’t have a clue about Anne’s car.

  The door to the car bay opened and the kid walked in and grabbed a cup of water. He knocked it back and then looked at me. “Still haven’t seen him?”

  I shook my head.

  “Give him another few minutes.” He went back out into the bay, partially closing the door behind him.

  The whir of pumps started up and I was tempted to go and close the door, especially because the cool air provided by the building’s AC was slowly being replaced by the humid air outside.

  “Bryce!”

  The machine noises stopped, and so did my heart.

  Bryce?

  “Dude, what’s up, man?” The voice speaking was the kid who had just come inside. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting my free oil change.”

  My pulse quickened.

  The Bryce this kid was talking to was the Bryce I knew.

  What on earth was he doing at Anne’s mechanic’s?

  “Right now?”

  “Why not?” Bryce chuckled. “I get free oil changes for life after working at this dump. Might as well take advantage.”

  “You’re gonna have to wait, man,” the kid said. “I got this job right now and Vince is off doing who knows what. There’s some chick inside, too, waiting to talk to him.”

  I jumped to my feet.

  “So you’re saying I need to bring it back, huh?”

  “You can do whatever you want,” the kid said. “But if you’re looking to get it done right now, it ain’t happening.”

  Bryce’s sigh was audible, even from where I was inside the waiting area. “I’ll bring it back,” he said. “Way better to have one of you dorks do it than me. I’m done with all that grunt work.”

  I gripped the back of the folding chair to steady myself.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  Bryce’s voice.

  Bryce, who along with being a stripper at one point, had also apparently worked on cars.

  Bryce, standing in the bay of Anne’s mechanic.

  My mind reeled.

  She’d been right.

  He was the one.

  I picked my purse up off the floor with shaking hands and shouldered it. Thoughts raced through my mind, jumbling together as I tried to piece together what I should do next.

  Call Anne? Call the police?

  I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, still unsure of who to start with but knowing I needed to tell someone else.

  The door to the bay sung fully open and someone stepped through the door.

  I let out a strangled cry.

  It wasn’t the kid who had greeted me.

  It was Bryce.

  His eyes widened as soon as he saw me. “Wh—what are you doing here?”

  “It was you.” My voice trembled. I pointed a finger at him. “You sabotaged Anne’s car.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You wanted her job,” I said, my voice rising. “You didn’t want to go to Jacksonville because you used to be a stripper and you were worried people might recognize you.”

  He stared at me, his mouth slack, his eyes bulging.

  And then he bolted.

  Raced back through the mechanic’s bay.

  I didn’t even hesitate.

  I followed him.

  And ran smack into the kid working on the car.

  Our legs tangled together and we both crashed to the cement floor. My purse was launched across the bay, the contents of it raining down on us like a shower.

  I scrambled to my feet, trying to ignore the sting in my scraped up knee and the pain radiating out from my ankle. I was pretty sure I’d twisted it.

  “What the—?” the kid muttered, picking himself up off the floor.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  Frantically, I looked around for my keys and my wallet. Everything else could wait.

  I located both, shoved them into my now empty purse, and flew out the open garage doors.

  Bryce was already in his car, peeling away from the curb. I got behind the wheel and floored the gas, hoping I could catch up with him.

  I could call the police now while I was driving, I thought. Tell them what had happened and they could head him off.

  I reached for my phone, only then realizing that I hadn’t recovered it from the fall. I slammed my palm against the steering wheel in frustration, then sucked in a deep breath.

  With steely eyes, I stared out the window. Bryce was several cars up but at least he was still in view.

  I pressed down harder on the gas.

  I knew what I had to do.

  I didn’t have a choice.

  I had to pursue Bryce myself…and find a way to bring him to justice for what he’d done.

  THIRTY TWO

  I expected a long chase.

  Scenes from actions movies flitted through my mind. I was no Baby Driver, but I was hoping I could hold my own on the mean streets of Niceville as I pursued Bryce on his way out of town.

  But he didn’t leave.

  In fact, he didn’t even really drive that fast.

  He wasn’t going at a leisurely pace, per se, but I quickly had to slow my speed because he was barely surpassing the speed limit, and the cars between us were keeping the same pace.

  I could barely contain my surprise when he pulled into the Oasis Ridge parking lot.

  “What is he doing?” I asked out loud.

  I was stuck at a red light, and all I could do was watch as he parked his car and ran into the building.

  Since my mind was on movies, all kinds of horrible thoughts popped up. Was he going inside to take hostages? Blow up the building? Set it on fire? Kill everyone?

  As soon as the light turned green, I laid on my horn so the two cars in front of me would get moving. My tire squealed as I pulled into the lot and I was already opening the car door before the key was fully out of the ignition.

  I flew past Lindsay, who looked at me with both relief and confusion.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, half-standing from her chair.

  I didn’t respond.

  I raced down the hallway, finally stopping in front of Anne’s office. Panting and out of breath, I tried the doorknob. It was locked.

  I pounded the door. “Open up!”

  A muffled voice responded. “No.”

  “You have five seconds to open this door before I call the cops.” I didn’t have a p
hone on me, but there was nothing stopping me from going into my office and making the call there.

  Slowly, the door opened.

  A red-faced Bryce was the other side.

  I tried to get my breathing under control. The adrenaline—from the revelation, from the drive, from my imagined movie scenarios, and now from the sprint I’d just done—was making it hard to breathe, much less talk.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” I managed to gasp out.

  To my surprise, his eyes dropped to the ground and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  I stared at him in shock.

  That was it? He was just going to confess and be done with it?

  It wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

  He took a step away from the door and I used that opportunity to shoulder my way inside.

  If he was going to give up this easily, I wanted answers.

  In fact, I felt like I deserved them.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked.

  He’d taken a few more steps back and was now sitting on the edge of his desk. His head hung down, and his shoulders had seemed to fold in on themselves. “Because I was desperate.”

  “Desperate for what?” I asked.

  “For money,” he said.

  I frowned. His answer didn’t make any sense. “But you have a job you’re going to, a job that will probably pay the same, if not more.” I had no idea what his job offer looked like with the Jacksonville location. “And maybe people won’t recognize you. Jacksonville is a big city, after all.”

  He looked up, his eyes reflection his confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  I stared back at him. “I’m asking why you tampered with Anne’s brakes. Why you tried to kill her.”

  His mouth dropped open. “I didn’t do that!”

  “You just confessed.”

  “No, I didn’t!”

  I knew what I’d heard. “You told me I was right.”

  He nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah, about the stripping! I didn’t do a thing to Anne’s car.” He paled. “Wait. Is that what caused the accident? Someone…someone did it intentionally?”