CHAPTER EIGHT
I WASN’T QUITE SURE HOW TO GET RID OF AIDEN. The situation had gotten dicey when the phone rang three more times during our hookup, but I was in no position to answer it. Leona was probably furious. And now it was nearly dark, and my mission to dig into Chloe’s extracurricular activities hadn’t even started.
I wound up convincing Aiden that he’d beat traffic on the freeway if he left right then. When he finally agreed, I told him to call me when he got back to the Washington State campus. I nearly brought up visiting him there but chickened out at the last second. I really needed to consult Cosmo on how to handle this situation first.
Once Aiden was gone, I texted Leona to apologize for missing her call, blaming it on a bad connection. Then I told her I’d call her the minute I’d collected the surveillance. Her only reply was “whatever.” Seemed that for me, spying and lying went hand in hand.
After deciding that being out in public in uniform—when I wasn’t a cheerleader—might be a bit obvious for undercover work, I changed into loose-fitting jeans and a gray Wildcats T-shirt. It still inspired a little pep.
I drove the winding Redmond streets toward Chloe’s father’s apartment in the old-town district. All the buildings here were nearly a hundred years old. Large porches, pastel exteriors—completely charming. Too bad none of that charm had worn off on Chloe.
It didn’t take long to find her because the minute I pulled onto Harper Boulevard, she came barreling out of the double doors of a mint-green house on the corner. I had to slam on my brakes and veer over to avoid being seen. Wow. That was close. My heart was racing.
While I waited for her to pull out of her driveway, I checked my reflection. A small smile tugged at my lips. My face was flushed, giving me that bit of color I’d seemed to be lacking lately. Spying suited me. Too bad it left my insides in knots.
When Chloe left her street, I began following her, careful to keep at least three car lengths back. It was probably better that it was evening. The fading light helped to conceal my car color.
She pulled her Honda into a near-empty parking lot, and I did a double take. A bookstore? Really? I mean, I’d discovered long ago that the bookstore was an excellent pick-me-up when I was feeling down. Especially the romance section. But Chloe didn’t strike me as the escapist type. Then again, she could be on an assignment of her own. Hm.
At least they had great coffee there—caramel Frappuccino (non-fat, of course)—and if I had a sec, I’d pick up a new mystery novel. It might take my mind off the real mystery that had become my life. I paused. I needed to refocus on this task. My mind was totally wandering! Very unprofessional.
I parked a row over and watched Chloe get out of her car, checking her reflection once in the side mirror. When she was inside, I pulled out my phone and texted Leona.
Target in sight. Bookstore.
She immediately answered. Funny. Didn’t know she could read.
I snorted and shut my phone, slipping it into my pocket. I didn’t have any official spy gear, but that was okay. I’d need to rely on my Kitten senses. In fact, this was the most alive I’d felt in weeks.
Careful to look casual and unnoticeable, I strolled toward the glass doors of the entrance. My intuition was telling me that Chloe was here as the copy-Kitten, but I’d have to catch her in the act. Maybe she was planting a listening device or conducting surveillance of her own. I narrowed my eyes and scoped the scene.
The well-lit store was complete with tall aisles of wooden bookcases that towered over me. The patterned maroon carpet had small pictures of coffee cups and pastries that pointed the way to the café in the back. My mouth was beginning to water.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure in black and immediately turned and headed for the first aisle, quickly grabbing a book and opening it to hide my face. When I felt like the coast was clear, I peered over the top of the binding.
Chloe was at the register, fingering through the bookmarks as she waited for a cashier. She didn’t have anything else in her hands, so I figured she was going to ask a question. I twitched my nose. Maybe she wasn’t here spying after all.
“Don’t get that one.” I jumped as someone spoke over my shoulder and lowered the book from my face. “The husband killed her for the insurance money. Totally obvious.”
I spun around to see Joel there, toting a stack of books in his arms. He smiled, flashing that adorably crooked tooth of his. He was wearing a striped button-up shirt, and his brown hair was tousled expertly. He was dressed up, but in a not-really-trying sort of way. I glanced down at the lavender cover in my hands and then back at him. “What are you doing here?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath. “You scared the dickens out of me.”
Joel stared, his mouth hanging open, then shook his head before reaching out to take my book. He set it on his stack, as though he planned to carry it for me. He was so chivalrous. “Dickens? Nice.” He laughed.
“I thought you and Kira were having dinner tonight.” I glanced back to see that Chloe was still at the register, talking to Jenn Duarte. Huh. Didn’t know she worked here. After a quick chat, Chloe headed off to the Self-help section.
“We are,” Joel said as I looked back at him. “But she was running late, so I’m just going to meet her at the restaurant.” He tilted his chin toward the registers. “Check out?”
I wondered if Kira and Izzie were with Leona as I crossed the patterned carpet. When we got to the register, Joel set the books down with a thud. Jenn smiled her hello, her short brown hair tucked behind her ears. Then she began unstacking the books to ring them up.
“So what are you doing here?” Joel asked me. “I saw your ex-boyfriend at school today. Thought maybe he was in town to see you. You two back together?”
My lips parted, but no response came to me. Even though I’d just spent the last few hours making out with Aiden, I knew we were no closer to being back together. What was happening to my self-worth? Oprah would be ashamed! My eyes began to water.
“Oh, shit. Did I say something wrong?” Joel reached over to touch my wrist. I batted my eyes, trying to contain my tears. It seemed like I’d been crying more often than not these days.
“No,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m fine.” But I wasn’t. I felt…sort of trashy.
“Here,” Joel said, leading me by the elbow over to the café. Books temporarily forgotten, I let him lead me forward over the cups and croissants embroidered in the carpet.