Say Goodbye Page 32

  “No, you really shouldn’t have. I’ll tell her. I have to go now. Good night, Tom.”

  Tom ended the call, frustrated. He didn’t know where Liza was and who she was with, which sucked. At least he knew that she was all right. Wherever she was.

  She’ll calm down in time, he told himself. She’d come back.

  But as what? As a friend, he told himself firmly, although the words no longer felt right.

  And if she never did? The prospect of a life without Liza wasn’t something he could even think about. Every aspect of the life he’d built since coming to Sacramento was tied to Liza.

  Everything but his job. Which he’d now go home to do.

  GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

  THURSDAY, MAY 25, 10:15 P.M.

  “Thank you,” Liza said, hugging Karl Sokolov first, then Irina as she walked them to her new front door. “You guys are insane, letting me have this place until July.” The posh apartment was one that Karl made available to clients visiting his marketing firm. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived.”

  The poshest, at any rate. The nicest place she’d ever lived was the place she’d left that morning, and she was already homesick.

  “This place sits empty most of the time,” Karl said. “I’m glad someone is using it.”

  Liza shook her head helplessly. “I think you’re lying about that, but again, I thank you.”

  “Did you show her the alarm panel, Karl?” Irina asked.

  “I did, my love.”

  “Did you introduce her to the guard in the lobby?”

  Karl kissed Irina soundly. “I most certainly did.”

  “Good. Liza, there are clean sheets on the bed and food in the pantry and the fridge. There is also a list of restaurants that deliver in the drawer next to the stove. Karl’s company has an account with all of them, so you will not need to pay.”

  Liza’s brows shot up. “I most certainly will pay. I have funds. I was Fritz’s beneficiary. I got his death benefits.” She’d told them about Fritz when she’d returned from Monterey, and it seemed that telling people about Fritz got easier every time. She needed to tell her Chicago family soon. She didn’t want them hearing it from Tom. They need to hear it from me. “I put half of the money in a trust for his parents to use for their retirement, and I’ll use the rest for living expenses and tuition not covered by my GI benefits and financial aid. I’ll be fine.”

  Karl’s smile was both proud and sad. “Do his parents know about the trust?”

  “No. I thought I’d tell them . . . later. Their grief is still too fresh.”

  “You are a good girl, Liza.” Irina took Liza’s cheeks in her palms and brought their foreheads together. “Your mother would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

  Liza had to clear her throat. “Stop making me cry, Irina.”

  Karl tugged at Irina’s sleeve. “Come on, my love. Let her get some rest.”

  Irina had called her as she, Gideon, and Daisy were driving back from Monterey to tell her that they’d found her a place and had moved her boxes and her car. Gideon had stopped first at the Sokolovs’ house so that Daisy could get her car, then the two of them had escorted her up to the apartment, where they’d helped unpack Liza’s things. With so many hands working, her boxes had been unpacked before she could blink.

  “I’ll be by tomorrow to read with Abigail,” Liza assured Irina. “Thank you again.”

  Everyone hugged her a final time, then left.

  And the silence was . . . awful.

  Liza hadn’t realized how much noise there’d been at her old place. Tom always had either a TV on or his opera music blaring. Pebbles was always barking at something.

  But this place was quiet. Too quiet.

  “Buck up, soldier,” she murmured. “You’re blessed. Be grateful.”

  And she was. She really was. She had everything she’d ever wanted.

  Except for the one thing she couldn’t have. Exhausted, but too wired to sleep, she sat down at the mahogany desk and opened her laptop.

  Step one: Post an ad for someone to sublet my side of the duplex. She wasn’t poor, but she wasn’t going to waste Fritz’s money on rent for a place she wasn’t using. She e-mailed Tom to let him know she’d placed the ad, because he’d ultimately have to approve the new renter.

  Step two: Sift through the want ads and apply for a temporary job. Irina had pointed her toward a temp service that hired out nursing assistants, so she’d go there.

  Step three: Run on the treadmill in the gym in the apartment building’s basement until I’m too tired not to sleep.

  Step four: Do not dream.

  That last one would be far easier said than done, but if she did dream of the sniper attack, at least she wouldn’t be hit with the guilt of keeping Fritz a secret. She leaned back in the desk chair and winced. Her tattoo was gorgeous and she loved it, but it was sore. Sergio had outdone himself, thanking her for allowing him to create such a moving memorial. Liza would need to go back in a few weeks to get the shading done, but even without that, the memorial was all she’d envisioned.

  She’d completed steps one and two and was trying to remember where she’d put her running shoes when her phone rang. She almost let it go to voice mail but then saw the caller.

  It was Mr. Tolliver, her old next-door neighbor. Something had to be wrong. Mr. Tolliver never called this late.

  “Hi, Mr. T, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m glad you answered. Your dog has escaped.”

  “Pebbles? Oh my God. How do you know? Did you see her running by?”

  “No, I see her on my front stoop, playing with Sweetie-Pie.”

  Liza exhaled, relieved. “Oh good. At least she’s all right.”

  “Can you come and get her? It’s after my bedtime. I’m an old man, y’know.”

  “Of course I’d come over to get her, but . . . I don’t live there anymore.”

  “I figured that. I saw you moving this morning. Did that man throw you out?”

  “No. Of course not. I left because . . . I just needed to leave.”

  “What are we going to do about your dog, then?”

  “Did you call Tom?”

  “Don’t have his number,” Mr. Tolliver said tartly. “Just yours.”

  Liza wasn’t giving out Tom’s number without his permission. Nor was she calling him herself. He’d ask her to come back and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to say no. “Can you knock on the front door?”

  “As if I haven’t done that already! If he’s there, he’s not answering, because he’s killing his hearing by playing that music so loud. It’s not rock, either. That I could take. It’s . . . opera.”

  Liza had to chuckle because he’d said opera like it was dog doo. “Fine. I’ll be over to get Pebbles. I still have a key. I can put her in Tom’s house. Do you know how she got out?”

  “She tunneled under the fence. He must have let her out and she got bored. Or lonesome. She went right up to your front door and lay on the welcome mat for the longest time.”

  “Oh.” Liza’s heart cracked. She loved that dog so much. “I’ll be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes. See you soon.”

  Liza waved to the man at the security desk on her way to the parking garage elevator. Irina had cited two separate elevators as additional security, and it made Liza feel safer to know that someone couldn’t come all the way up to her floor from the parking garage.

  ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA

  THURSDAY, MAY 25, 11:00 P.M.

  Pebbles perked up when Liza got out of her car, running up to meet her. Liza was glad she’d been leaning against the car when Pebbles had leaped to lick her face, otherwise she’d be on her ass.

  Liza gently pushed Pebbles back to all fours and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Tom doesn’t like it when you lick faces
,” she told Pebbles sternly.

  “Tom isn’t here,” Mr. Tolliver said with attitude. “He can train her when he’s around.”

  Liza looked up at his side of the duplex. All the upstairs lights were on and she could hear the faint strains of Pavarotti’s “Nessun dorma” all the way from where she stood.

  “He’s working. That’s his working music.”

  “Hmph.” Mr. Tolliver lifted his chin. “It’s loud.”

  “What’s your favorite band, Mr. T? You said you’d have preferred rock.”

  Mr. Tolliver grinned. “I saw Black Sabbath in concert six times one summer. That’s where I met Mrs. Tolliver, God rest her soul.”

  Liza grinned back. “You are awesome, Mr. T. I’d love to chat, but I’m going to take Pebbles back inside now. I’ve had a really long day.”

  Mr. Tolliver took a step forward, his expression now wistful. “Come back every now and then, okay? Pebbles will miss you. And so will I.”

  Another piece of Liza’s heart cracked. “You bet. I promise.”

  “You’d better. I just got used to you, girl.”

  “And my Dream Bars.” Mr. Tolliver loved her Caramel-Pecan Dream Bars.

  He grinned. “Those too.”

  Liza slapped her thigh. “Pebbles, come. You’re going home.” Pebbles followed her across the lawn but stopped at Liza’s front door. “No, girl. That’s not your home. Not anymore.” She could have sworn that Pebbles pouted. “Come. I’m too tired to drag you.”

  Pebbles snorted, shaking herself before following Liza to Tom’s front door.

  Liza unlocked the door, disabling the alarm. “Go on.” But Pebbles didn’t move. Exasperated, Liza pulled on the dog’s collar, dragging her inside. Tom might not even have known that Pebbles had gone out to the backyard, so she checked the massive doggy door they’d put in after Tom had first brought Pebbles home. Sure enough, the doggy door was unlocked.

  Liza locked it, all under the cover of Pavarotti singing at the top of his lungs.

  Then froze when she heard Tom’s shout.

  “Goddammit, Liza!”

  She stood in place, hardly daring to breathe, hoping he didn’t come down the stairs.

  But also hoping that he did. When he didn’t, she edged toward the front door and the music abruptly stopped. Again she froze, staring up at the stairs. Hoping she wouldn’t see him.

  Praying that she would. Just a glimpse.

  Stop it. This is over. Get out of here.

  But Tom still didn’t come down the stairs. Instead she heard him pacing in his office. “I might have a way in,” she heard him say.

  Against her better judgment, she climbed the first few stairs.

  “Good,” another voice said, sounding tinny. Tom was on the phone. “What can you do?”

  “I tried shutting down their security network from my end, but whoever developed it put in too many fail-safes, so I constructed an e-mail that looks like a bill with late charges. If their bookkeeper clicks the link to pay, it’ll allow me to shut down all nonessential network function. I’m not going to touch anything that has to do with patient treatment or medication, though.”

  “But it will shut down enough of it, yes?”

  “Yes. Sunnyside Oaks won’t be able to operate any of their personnel, accounting, or admin functions. Hopefully they’ll call tech support so we can get an agent physically in there.”

  “I’ll get the warrant expanded to cover wiretaps so we can intercept their calls.”

  “Just to let you know,” Tom said cautiously, “in case this doesn’t work, Sunnyside Oaks posted a job opening for a nursing assistant. I found it when I did a wider search on the place.”

  “Not a nurse?”

  “No, this was posted earlier in the day, before Nurse Gaynor was discovered. If you want to try to get someone in there . . .”

  “We’ll do that. Do you know on which job websites they’ve posted the opening?”

  Liza frowned as Tom rattled off two websites she hadn’t found in her earlier searches. What was Sunnyside Oaks? And why was Tom interested in it? Who was he talking to? Sounded like his boss. Why were they interested in a nursing assistant position?

  “Just because the nursing assistant position is open, that doesn’t mean that the individual will have access to Pastor or DJ,” Tom cautioned.

  Liza’s mouth fell open. DJ? And Pastor? They knew where Pastor was?

  Apparently so. He was at some place called Sunnyside Oaks, which needed a nursing assistant.

  No one had informed Mercy or Rafe or Gideon. They would have been unable to stay silent about something this huge. Which pissed her off, because they had a right to know.

  “I know that,” the other man said. “But an in is an in.”

  Yeah. It is. And Liza was going to apply to be that in. This was finally something she could do. Yes, they’d tracked down the Eden tattoo and might be able to find Pastor’s wife and kids. But this was Pastor himself. He could lead them to Eden.

  And Liza was uniquely qualified to help. So I will.

  Tom said good night to his boss and for a brief moment she considered sneaking out without letting him know she’d been there. But that was childish. And dishonest. And cowardly.

  She glanced down at Pebbles, who leaned into her hip, staring up adoringly as her tongue lolled to the side. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving the dog’s muzzle a soft stroke.

  Drawing a breath, she went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Tom?” Straightening her spine, she braced herself for the sight of him, like she always did.

  Because he took her breath away. He always had.

  And then he was standing at the head of the stairs, gaping. “You’re here.”

  “I am.”

  He came down two of the steps, then paused uncertainly. “Are you back?”

  “No.” She backed up a few feet, giving him room as he descended the rest of the way. “I got a call from Mr. Tolliver. Pebbles got loose, so I came back to bring her in.”

  Startled concern flickered across his features. He dropped to his knees in front of the dog, checking her for injuries. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes. She dug a hole under the fence. You should probably get it filled in. Apparently she only went as far as next door to play with Sweetie-Pie.”

  He looked up, blue eyes uncertain as he seemed to drink her in. “Is the Yorkie okay?”

  Liza forced her lips to curve. “Of course. They’re BFFs. Anyway, I brought her inside, fed her, and locked the doggy door so she can’t get out again.”

  He swallowed hard, and then, not breaking eye contact, rose to his full height.

  Liza looked up. She’d always loved that she had to look up at him. But not tonight. He looked pained. And awkward.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “You want to . . . sit? Talk?”

  She shook her head. “Today was a busy day. I need to get back to my new place and sleep.”

  “Where is your new place?” He held up his hands, surrender style. “Wait. First, I need to tell you I’m sorry. For yelling at you this morning.”

  “I know. Irina gave me the message. It’s okay. I’m okay. I need to tell—”

  “No!” he shouted, then groaned. “I did it again. Just . . . don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry.”

  “And I said it’s okay. Listen, I—”

  He cut her off before she could tell him about the conversation she’d overheard. “But I’m not okay,” he said hoarsely. “Please. Let me say some things. I need to say this.”

  The agony in his voice stunned her into silence.

  “I was scared,” he said in a rush of words. “Really scared.”

  Her heart softened, and she hated that it did. Hated that she wanted to soothe him. To tell him that everything would be all right. That she’d c
ome back. That they could go back to the way things had been before she’d shown him Fritz’s picture.

  But they couldn’t go back. Eventually it would eat her up inside. So she forced lightness into her tone that she did not feel. “That I’d been kidnapped by aliens or something?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No. By a killer who had you in his crosshairs yesterday morning.”

  “Oh.” She winced guiltily. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I left a note on the fridge.”

  “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I read it. ‘Tom, I’m moving. Don’t worry, I’ll keep paying the rent.’ Which was the last thing I was thinking about.” He exhaled, visibly trying to calm his temper. “Will you at least tell me where you’re living?”

  She hesitated, tempted not to tell him. But that would also be childish. “Karl’s company keeps an apartment in Granite Bay for VIP clients. Top-of-the-line security, a guard in the lobby. A gated, guarded parking garage. Cameras everywhere. It’s very safe.” And because she needed to reclaim a little of her pride, she lifted her chin. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  “But I liked taking care of you. You’re important. You’re my—” He went abruptly silent, as if realizing he was about to say the very wrong thing.

  Too late. “Your friend,” she said, trying so hard not to sound bitter.

  He took a step closer. “Because we are. Aren’t we?”

  Liza took a step back, her eyes filling with tears. “I need more than that.”

  He flinched, then shook his head helplessly.

  Get this back on track. Back to business. “Did you get the copy of the photo ID that I sent you? The one that William Holly used eighteen years ago to get that Eden tattoo?”

  “I did. I’ve already got it printed out and tacked to my bulletin board. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Mercy, Gideon, Amos, and Abigail.”

  “I know.” He looked at his feet for a moment before lifting his gaze, filled with hurt. “Will you tell me where you went today?”

  “I promised the artist that I wouldn’t. The FBI scared him into moving away the last time you visited.”