Infamous (Beautiful Idols 3)

A smile tugged at his lips. “Inside the cookie jar.” He ran a hand across his chin. “Knowing Madison’s eating habits, it seemed a bit odd she’d even own such a thing.”

“What else is in there?”

Aster started to move toward it, when Ryan said, “Nothing. Only the watch. She wore it on the night she went missing.”

“And you’re sure this is hers?” Now she was the one doubting the evidence.

“Positive. It was one of the few things she actually cherished, aside from her dog and her house. Mostly everything she owned was given to her. But the watch she bought with her first real paycheck, and she was extremely proud of it. Go ahead, read the inscription.”

Aster peered at the back of the case, where the letters M.D.S. were engraved. “MaryDella Slocum?” She turned toward Ryan.

“For someone so bent on hiding her past, she sure surrounded herself with a lot of reminders,” he said.

Aster glanced between Ryan and the timepiece.

“C’mon,” he said. “I say we search every last corner. Maybe she left us a clue on when she plans to return.”

EIGHTEEN

YOU ARE GOODBYE

“You okay? You seem a little on edge.”

Tommy gazed out the windshield. Edgy wasn’t the half of it. He felt tense, confused, and rocked with uncertainty. Miles of freeway had whizzed by in a blur, and while Dahlia had asked what seemed to be a legit list of questions, something about the whole scenario was starting to feel really wrong.

“How much farther?” he asked, wondering, not for the first time, just where the heck she was leading him.

Tommy had read plenty of interviews where a bit of a drive was involved, but he’d never read one that dragged on for so long. It was starting to seem kind of creepy.

“Not much longer.”

Tommy gripped the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror, wishing he could rewind all that asphalt until they were back at the record store. It was weird to think how a piece in Rolling Stone had always been the ultimate dream, but now that it was happening, he just wanted it to be over.

“Am I boring you?” Dahlia gave him a playful nudge, revealing hands that were surprisingly calloused and rough. Her nails were torn below the quick, and one of her pinkie fingers was wrapped with blue tape. What the hell had happened to her? “Do you want me to take over?”

“Thought you said it wasn’t long.” He shot her a sideways glance.

“It’s not.” She sank lower onto the seat and propped her injured ankle onto the dashboard, allowing Tommy a glimpse of white thigh that had him quickly turning away. “Sorry,” she said, in a voice that seemed far more amused than conciliatory. “Not trying to make you uncomfortable. It helps with the swelling to keep it elevated.”

“And yet, you just offered to drive.” He sounded agitated but also saw no point in taking it back. After a few silent beats, he said, “Balance beam accident, huh?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. “Skydiving.” She wagged a messed-up finger at him. “Just like I told you. But I guess you weren’t listening.”

She was playing him. It was obvious she was having fun at his expense. Though he wasn’t quite ready to call her on it, that laugh of hers was hauntingly familiar.

He stopped at a light and took advantage of the moment to study her. She reminded him of a handful of girls he knew from working at the Vesper. That was probably all it was.

The car behind him honked, Dahlia idly brushed her hand against the inside of her thigh, and Tommy shook free of his daze and shot through the intersection like he was being pursued by something he couldn’t quite name.

“Easy, cowboy.” Again, she laughed, causing a chill to crawl across Tommy’s skin. “Make a left up here. Followed by a sharp right. By the way, you hungry?”

He was, but for some reason he found himself shaking his head.

“Good. Because it’s been months since I last went grocery shopping.”

Grocery shopping? He looked at her. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Sure.” She inspected the ends of her hair. “You can always ask.”