LITMIR.BIZ

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manager. We were nothing alike. Evelyn was fortyish, neat, trim, and could have worked as a docent giving tours in one of those old southern mansions. And I’m, well, I’m me.

      But we were connected in some weird—and not so weird—ways.

      Like today. I needed retail therapy—the only way I could possibly get over what had happened yesterday—and only Evelyn could help me with that.

      That’s because Evelyn had eighty grand of my money tucked away in her savings account.

      I pulled up to the curb in front of her house. You wouldn’t be surprised to see Evelyn outside in a big hat and gardening gloves, cutting flowers from her garden—if she weren’t so afraid to leave her house these days.

      She never talked about Holt’s. Not after the murder and all that other crap that had happened last fall. If she mentioned it at all, she simply referred to it as “the incident” caused by “that certain someone.” Which was great with me, especially today, because Holt’s was the very last thing I wanted to be reminded of.

      As I walked toward the front door, I saw the blinds on the living room window move slightly. I rang the bell.

      “It’s me,” I called. I knew the drill.

      The security system beeped. Chains rattled. Locks turned. A lot of precautions for this quiet neighborhood of family homes.

      It had taken a long time for Evelyn to recover from last fall’s physical injuries, but emotionally she wasn’t all that strong. She never had been, really, and “the incident” had only made it worse.

      The door opened a little and Evelyn’s face appeared. Her gaze darted back and forth.

      “It’s just me,” I said, trying to keep things light. “Just like I said on the phone.”

      I’d called ahead. Everyone had to call ahead.

      She gave me a hesitant smile, then opened the door. I stepped inside.

      Evelyn had on a mauve sweatshirt with a ruffle collar, denim jeans that she’d ironed, and white ankle socks. Her hair was perfect.

      She slammed the door behind me and made quick work of the chains, locks, and security system.

      “Well, Haley.” Evelyn drew in a big breath and twisted her fingers together. “It’s good to see you.”

      If it had been anyone else, I would have offered a big hug. But not with Evelyn.

      I handed her the white plastic bag of groceries I’d picked up on my way over.

      “Can I put these away for you?” I asked.

      “Oh no, I can manage. Go have a seat. I’ll be right there,” Evelyn said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

      I took my usual seat on the sofa in the living room. The place looked as if a florist had exploded in here. Floral slipcovers in pink, mint green, and white; floral arrangements; floral artwork; floral throw pillows she’d embroidered herself. Somehow, it worked in Evelyn’s home.

      A moment later she came into the living room carrying a tray with a tea service and a plate of cookies, and set it on the coffee table. She passed me an envelope—reimbursement for the groceries I’d bought—and poured.

      When I first started coming over, bringing her things she couldn’t have delivered, I told her that the cost was no big deal. But Evelyn had insisted, and since I didn’t want to upset her further, I rolled with it.

      I knew Evelyn didn’t need financial help. I happened to be sitting across the dinner table from Ty—one of our supposed dates—when he told his attorney at Pike Warner not to negotiate, just pay all of her medical expenses and give her a half million bucks.

      He’s generous and decisive like that.

      Why aren’t I having sex with him?

      “How are your classes?” Evelyn asked. She handed me a teacup and took the chair next to the window.

      “We’re studying the nervous system in health,” I said.

      We were really studying STDs, but since I wasn’t sure Evelyn had ever had sex I didn’t think it was a topic of conversation she could run with.

      I ate one of the cookies. Evelyn always served the same kind. Dry, brittle, tasteless. Just once I wished she’d bust out a package of Oreos. I could do without the tea, too, but I didn’t see her cracking open a Corona, even with chilled mugs.

      “I heard what happened yesterday at Holt’s,” Evelyn said softly.

      I jumped, nearly spilling my tea. What? Evelyn was talking about Holt’s? I didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened yesterday. That’s why I came here today.

      “That poor girl dying in the store like that.” Evelyn shook her head sadly. “It was all over the news last night—every channel.”

      “Well, you know, I think the newspeople really made too much of it,” I said. “Evelyn, there was something I wanted to talk to you about while I’m—”

      “And the Internet. My goodness, bloggers are going crazy. Another beauty queen, gone. And, of course, that brought up the story of that darling little girl in Colorado.”

      I had to distract her. I lifted my cup. “This is great tea.”

      “And what about that girl they’re calling the Missing Server?” Evelyn asked.

      “Are there any more cookies?” I asked.

      “They still haven’t found her. After searching the entire store for hours.”

      “Did I mention that I got an A on my last English paper?”

      “And now the store is closed again today,” Evelyn went on. “It must be an absolute mess in there. I hate to think of how hard all the employees are going to have to work to get it presentable.”

      “It was a really hard paper, too.”

      “Jeanette must be beside herself, thinking of the lost income,” Evelyn said. “This is a huge financial blow to the entire Holt’s chain.”

      “I have to go now.” I popped off the couch and headed for the door.

      I simply could not stay here and listen to another word about what had happened yesterday. The whole thing had turned into a nightmare—a complete nightmare. Even though anyone in my position would have done the same thing.

      “You’re leaving?” Evelyn asked, sounding disappointed.

      “I have to get to the store. Help with the cleanup,” I said.

      “But when you phoned, you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about,” Evelyn said, putting her teacup aside.

      Oh yeah. That.

      I’d rehearsed my speech on the drive over, planned how I would present my case. And now, after being reminded of yesterday’s fiasco, I needed a massive dose of retail therapy more than ever.

      I put on a bright smile. “I’m going to this big charity function. It’s at the Biltmore Hotel. My whole family goes every year. Dinner and dancing. Very formal.”

      “Oh, it’s a ball?” Evelyn asked, with a Cinderella twinkle in her eye.

      “Yeah,” I said. “A formal ball. With evening gowns and tuxedos.”

      “I’ll bet you and your mom are going shopping together for dresses,” Evelyn said, looking all dreamy.

      Not if I could get out of it.

      But I worked up an equally dreamy smile and said, “Mom always buys my dress for the occasion, but what I really need is a new evening bag. I found one that’s perfect.”

      Evelyn morphed into the evil stepmother at light-speed.

      She shook

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