Kay shakes her head and looks down at her teacup.
Elena looks at Landry. “You?”
“A million years ago,” she confesses, remembering. It isn’t pleasant. “I was in college.”
“Really? That was the last time?”
“I’ve been married forever, Elena.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot.”
“So what happened?” Landry asks. “Last night, I mean.”
“Basically—wine. Wine happened. Does that explain it?”
It might have, years ago. In college. Wine, beer, potent spiked punch at a fraternity party . . .
But Elena is a grown woman. Does she have a drinking problem?
Reminding herself not to jump to conclusions, Landry asks, “So you had too much wine, and you didn’t know what you were doing? Is that it?”
“Pretty much. It’s been such a stressful week, between issues with the kids in my class, and Meredith, and . . . well, you know. Bad week. Crazy time of year. We had this school function last night, and we were both there—”
“You and the jackass?” Landry cuts in with a wry smile that is returned.
“Right. He teaches P.E. at my school, and—well, I did go out with him once, last year. It’s funny—I told Meredith about it because I was psyched about the date before it happened. And I promised to let her know how it went, and she was waiting and expecting to hear that he was the love of my life, but . . .”
“No?”
“No way. One date was enough to convince me that I can’t stand him—and it took him forever to get the message even though I felt like it was loud and clear. But apparently I somehow forgot all that last night, and . . . now he’s kind of . . . stalking me.”
“Stalking you?”
Seeing the alarmed look on Landry’s face, Elena backtracks quickly: “I probably shouldn’t say ‘stalking.’ That’s a little extreme. But he’s just . . . this is how it was after we went out. He’s really persistent and oblivious that I’m . . .”
“Just not that into him?” Landry supplies.
“Not into him at all! But somehow he must think I want to hear from him, and he’s been trying to get ahold of me ever since I got here. Before I left this morning he said he wanted to pick me up from the airport tomorrow and I said no, and then he wanted to come here with me, and of course I said no to that, too. I don’t want him here. I don’t want him there. He makes my skin crawl. Did you ever have someone who just—” She breaks off with a shudder.
“Is he dangerous, do you think?” Kay’s fleshy face is etched in concern.
“Who knows? He’s a creep.” Elena shakes her head.
Landry persists, “But do you feel threatened?”
Elena tilts her head as if contemplating the question, then shrugs. “I don’t know. But, I mean, look what happened to Meredith. You never know what people are capable of doing.”
There’s a long silence.
“Do y’all think—” Landry cuts herself off, realizing now might not be the time to bring this up.
“What?” Elena prompts.
“I’ve just been wondering—what if Meredith’s blog was responsible for . . . I mean, what if some crazy person was following her online—you know, even stalking her, like this Tony guy is with you, Elena—”
“No, I said he’s not really stalking me.”
“I know, but . . . you said yourself that there’s something you don’t like about him and he’s scaring you.”
“No, I didn’t say ‘scaring.’ ”
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just jittery because of what happened to Meredith, and—anyway, what I’m trying to say is, what if she attracted some crazy follower on her blog? And what if whoever it was went after her because he knew she was alone in the house, and he knew where to find her . . .”
“I’ve thought of that.” Elena nods. “She really put it all out there, you know? More so than some of us.”
“I know. I hate to think that someone evil could have been reading all of her innocent posts, watching her, waiting to—” Seeing the horrified look on Kay’s face, Landry breaks off abruptly. “Kay, are you all right?”
“I am, I just . . . I thought it was random. A burglary. I didn’t think . . .” She shakes her head. “Oh my God.”
“It’s definitely made me think twice about what I’m willing to share online,” Elena tells them. “I mean, anyone out there can be reading our blogs.”
“Including your friend Tony.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about that, Landry. Maybe it’s time to stop.”
“Stop blogging?”
“Stop spending so much time with the online group. The public one, anyway. It’s one thing to spend so much time networking online when you’re first diagnosed, dealing with the shock and the treatments and feeling alone. But lately I just do it out of habit. I mean, the three of us can still stay close. Now that we’ve met, I can’t imagine losing touch with you guys. But the others—not that I don’t appreciate all the friends I’ve made online, but with Meredith gone . . . I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to take a step back. Especially if . . . do you really think something happened to Meredith because of what she wrote?”
“Do you?” Kay looks up at last.
“Maybe. How about you, Landry?”
She nods slowly. “I do. In my gut . . . I really do.”
Finding herself within arm’s reach of Landry Wells for the second time today, Jaycee doesn’t dare turn her head as she listens to the conversation unfolding behind her.
She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the familiar rental car pull into the parking lot as she sat at the table by the window, sipping the last of her coffee.
For a split second she wondered if the three of them had spotted her at the funeral and followed her here.
She had to remind herself, once again, that they don’t know what she looks like. She’s just jittery because she’s fairly certain the lady cop recognized her. But not, of course, as Jaycee the breast cancer blogger.
As Jenna Coeur.
And Jenna Coeur has nothing to do with Landry, Kay, or Elena.
They’re here, she realized, for the same reason she herself is here; for the same reason most people go to Starbucks. The coffee is good and the chain is popular. Plus, it’s near the funeral home—not to mention their hotel.
She should have considered that before she stopped. Or if she had to stop, she should have jumped back on the highway and gotten out of here with her coffee.
When she saw them coming, it was too late. She knew she was trapped. Leaving now would mean walking right past them. She sat hoping they’d take their coffee to go, but of course they didn’t. And as fate would have it, for the second time today the only vacant spot in the place is right next to her.
It’s almost as though somebody up there is trying to tell her something.
Meredith?
If so, she’d better cut it out, because her nerves were edgy enough before all this.
Then again . . . now that the three of them are settled into the next table, she finds herself almost glad for the encounter. After spending so much time wondering what it would be like if things were different and she actually could have met them in person, it’s almost as if she’s a part of things after all. She’s heard every word they’ve said since they sat down, and almost choked on her own saliva when Landry mentioned her blogger name.
But right now they’re discussing Meredith. More specifically, her murder.
“I still can’t believe anyone who read her blog could have been evil enough to come after someone like her.”
That’s Landry talking. Jaycee finds it easy to distinguish her drawl from Elena’s rapid-fire Boston accent and Kay’s flat midwestern one.
“What do you think the detective is going to ask us when we talk to her?” Kay asks, and Jaycee realizes she wasn’t the only one at the funeral who captured the attention of law enforcement in their midst.
“She probably thinks we might know something. Which we don’t.” Elena pauses, then amends, “At least, I don’t.”