Fatal Secrets - Desiree Holt Page 0,10
it so no one would pay attention?
They hardly touched it, to her way of thinking, even when it happened, although plenty of people had tried to convince her otherwise. She’d never forget that day, no matter how much time went by.
Ten years ago
“Another drink, miss?”
Zoe looked up at the waitress standing beside her table. Did she want a refill? She hated drinking alone, and Justine should be here any minute.
“I think I’ll pass for the moment, but I could use some more chips and dip.”
Instead of getting drunk she’d sit here and get fat.
“Okay. Coming right up.”
She checked her watch for maybe the tenth time. Justine was already twenty minutes late, which was not like her at all. According to her friends in Helena, the woman never missed taco night unless she was sick or dying, which was why they had arranged to meet here. Zoe had driven up from Bozeman, and the plan was to spend the weekend with Justine so they could have some girl time together. They only lived three hours apart, but they were both so busy—Zoe with her reporting and Justine in the prosecutor’s office—they hardly got to see each other anymore.
The waitress brought a fresh basket of warm chips and dishes of guacamole and salsa and refilled Zoe’s water glass.
“Thanks.” She smiled at the woman and took a sip of the icy liquid.
Glancing at her wrist again she wondered how many more times she’d allow herself to check the time. Justine was more than half an hour late, and that was not only unusual but unheard of. The woman was a nut about punctuality. After double checking her messages yet again, she punched the button for Justine’s cell. Again.
“Hi. You’ve reached Justine DeLuca. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.”
That was it. Nothing more than her usual voice mail message.
“Justine, it’s Zoe. Again. Where the hell are you? Did you ditch me for a date?” She disconnected and tapped the message icon. “Justine. Call me before I smack your ass. Now!”
By the time another hour had passed, she was halfway between angry and worried. This was not like Justine DeLuca. Se’d been as excited as Zoe about the two of them getting to spend some time together. A glance at her phone told her it was already after eight thirty, more than ninety minutes past the time to meet. Why hadn’t Justine called?
She scrolled through her contacts, looking for her friend’s work number. As a paralegal in the county prosecutor’s office, her friend might sometimes pull late hours, but she surely would have called. She punched in the number and listened to it ring, startled when someone actually answered.
“Prosecutor’s office.” The male voice sounded both tired and preoccupied.
“Oh! Uh, I’m looking for Justine DeLuca.”
“Sorry. Not here. I think she’s gone for the day. You want to leave a message?”
“No. No, that’s okay. Do you have any idea when she left?”
“I think it was a couple of hours ago. Sure you don’t want to leave a message?” He sounded abrupt, as if he wanted to end the call. If he was working this late, he probably was in the middle of something critical.
“I’m sure. Uh, who am I speaking to?”
“Warren Craig. Who’s this?”
Oh. The county prosecutor himself. And if he sounded this harried, it was for damn sure he was in the middle of some kind of crisis.
“This is Zoe Young. I’m a friend of Justine’s. She was supposed to meet me at seven tonight for taco night, and—”
“And she’s not there?”
Now his voice was sharp, not the least harried.
“No. She’s—”
“Usually not late,” he interrupted. “I know. At least not like this, and not without calling. Do you know where this office is, Miss Young?”
“I can find it. I have a good GPS locator.”
“Good. Get yourself down here. I’ll call the lobby and tell them to let you up. Meanwhile, I’ll do some checking on this end.”
She blew out a breath. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“Just get here ASAP.”
Zoe was so immersed in the memory of that night she nearly missed her exit from the interstate. Even as she hit the ramp and pulled out onto the road, snippets from that night still unraveled in her mind. Warren Craig had been all efficient business, calling in everyone from his admin to half the people on his staff to his brother, a cop on the Helena police force to the sheriff. But there was no sign of Justine until two days later. Her