Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,17
took a sip and cringed. The sour taste lingered in her mouth as she tried to think. As of tonight, she had one hundred twenty-six dollars to her name. And it was time to leave. She’d meant to take off weeks ago, but the no-questions-asked waitressing gig combined with the daily perk of groceries left behind for the maid had made this place difficult to leave. So she’d given herself an extra week, then two, then three, even though she hated the heat and the never-ending bed linens and the drunken tourists with grabby hands.
The microwave dinged. She opened it and noticed a thin line of sugar ants crawling across the counter. She picked up a dish towel and followed the trail from a box of cereal to the electrical outlet near the microwave. She had a charger plugged in there, and her cheap black cell phone sat ready to go at a moment’s notice. She hadn’t touched the thing in months.
A little red light on the top of the phone was blinking.
Tabitha stared at it. Her pulse quickened as she unplugged the phone and looked at the keypad. Her mind drew a complete blank, but her thumb seemed to remember the passcode. Tabitha’s stomach clenched as the screen brightened with the words 1 NEW MESSAGE.
She tapped the button and lifted the phone to her ear, holding her breath and watching the line of ants for what seemed like an eternity. She heard a faint rustle. Then panting.
And the words she heard next turned her blood to ice.
CHAPTER
SIX
BAILEY’S MUSCLES BURNED as she cut through the water. She leaned forward and pulled with all her might, huffing out a breath as she dug hard with the oars. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the red buoy marking the dock. She leaned forward and completed another stroke, and another, and another, determined to finish strong as she blocked out everything—the boats, the paddleboards, the green blur of trees. Closing in on the red buoy, she gave a last powerful pull and let the boat glide.
She tipped her head back and sighed. The morning sky was gray with clouds, and sweat seeped into her eyes as she stared up at it. Her heart thrummed. This was her favorite part, the part that made her get out of bed instead of hitting the snooze button. She liked the sky this time of morning. She liked the lake cool and peaceful, before the heat and the crowds and the traffic set in. She liked the feeling of being immersed in nature. This was her time. These few minutes on the water, feeling sweaty and spent, would power her through whatever challenges came her way throughout the day.
Bailey looked over her shoulder. Past the pedestrian bridge was a row of cypress trees, and she tried to pinpoint the spot where the victim had been pulled from the water just hours ago. Had this place been her refuge, too? Had she come out here to relax and recharge? To push her body to the limit?
What had she been thinking about in the minutes before she died?
Maybe she’d been distracted, thinking about work or sex or overdue bills. Maybe she hadn’t been paying attention, and her killer had spotted her alone and vulnerable. Bailey liked it out here when there was no one around, and maybe the victim had, too. People always said never jog at night or in the dark, and especially not alone. But Bailey understood the allure.
Sure, blame the victim. It’s her fault she came out here and got murdered.
A shrill whistle jerked Bailey from her thoughts, and she turned to see the UT women’s rowing team slicing across the water. Their coach followed close behind them in a launch—one of the few motorized vehicles allowed on the lake.
She held up her megaphone. “In two, power ten!” she commanded as the boat razored through the water.
Bailey wiped her forehead with her arm. With a few quick strokes, she maneuvered to the dock, where a kid with a goatee and a blond ponytail waited to help her. Sam wore a blue Austin Rowing Club T-shirt and pink Hawaiian shorts today.
“Leave her in,” Sam told her. “We’re hot-boating.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“We’re booked solid till noon, and someone’s right behind you. Here he is now.”
Bailey unfastened her feet from the stretchers and stepped out of the boat. Sam held it steady as a skinny guy wearing a Texas Regatta T-shirt walked over. Bailey traded nods with him and headed to