The car was gone. Ella Camden was sure of it.
She’d spent the better part of twenty minutes peering through the taxi’s back window just to be certain.
Somewhere amid Friday rush hour traffic between Route 97 and the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, the silver sedan that had been following her had disappeared.
“I don’t see it anymore,” she said into her cell phone, finally facing forward again and slumping against the seat.
“Don’t you dare have that driver turn around,” Autumn Simmons responded, her tone unusually serious.
That was exactly what Ella wanted to do, though: tell the cabdriver to forget it. Turn the car around and take her back to her mom’s house. She sank down lower in her seat, her grip tight on the phone. “I’m probably just being paranoid,” she said, echoing the words of her sisters, several coworkers, her doctors...everyone except Autumn. “My injury—”
“Don’t even go there.” Autumn cut her off. “No way you’ve imagined a silver car following you home three days in a row.”
Her friend’s words brought on an unsettling mixture of reassurance and fear. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that she had an ally who didn’t think she was losing her marbles. On the other hand, Autumn’s support meant that Ella could truly be in danger. If she was in danger, she needed help. There was only one place she could go for that, one person who might be able to figure things out—which was why she’d had the driver change course in the first place. But now she was having second thoughts.
“The office is probably closed,” she hedged, knowing full well she could simply make a phone call to find out.
“Look,” Autumn said, her voice urgent. “If you turn around, I’ll take myself up there right now and tell Roman DeHart you’re too chicken to face him, but you need his help.”
Autumn’s pushy nature was as much an annoyance as it was a confirmation that this was no time to take risks. Ella hadn’t realized how much she’d missed their friendship. She’d let distance and time do what they did best—water down old memories and fill the empty spaces with new ones.
“I’m not chicken.” Well, maybe a little. Though she’d never admit to it. “But what if this is all what the doctor’s been warning me about? Memory lapses. Confusion. Paranoia.” She touched the hat that covered her healing wound.
“Paranoia doesn’t explain what happened to Marilynn. Or your mom,” Autumn said.
“The police—”
Autumn cut in. “You know something’s going on.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know... What if I’m wrong?”
“What if you’re right?”
If Ella was right, then someone had tried to kill her last month and that same someone was looking for another opportunity. If she was right, her mother’s accident and Marilynn Rice’s death were somehow connected. After all, the two had been close friends and had worked together at Graceway, her mother’s nonprofit, for years.
No question about it. If Ella was right, she needed Roman’s help.
“Exactly,” Autumn said as if she’d read Ella’s thoughts in the empty silence. “Now, are you going to pay Roman a visit or am I?”
Ella wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Roman again after all these years and she didn’t like ultimatums. But she knew Autumn was right. She needed help, and Roman’s security company was the best place to turn.
She sighed into the phone. “I’ll do it.” Ending the call, she scanned the traffic outside her cab for the sedan once more.
Her stomach churned and she pressed a hand to her abdomen. The meds made her nauseous, but she’d keep taking them for now. Intermittent nausea was better than the explosive migraines that had been plaguing her for weeks. And at least her mood had stabilized. Her doctor had pushed an