Chapter 5

chapter

five

Nia had gone back to her apartment, but all she could think about was how things would play out.

Would the person who’d texted her make some egregious request in return for their silence? So far, the stipulations hadn’t come through.

But they would.

If she didn’t obey, she’d be arrested.

How would Mario make her suffer for this?

Nia felt catatonic as she sat on the couch with her knees pulled to her chest.

She’d worked hard to get to this place in life. For the longest time, she’d even said no to any type of social life unless it involved networking.

Then two years ago, everything had changed when her sister, Sophia, had been diagnosed with ALS. Alan, Sophia’s husband, had left her, and she’d been unable to continue her job as an elementary school teacher.

So Nia supported Sophia. She visited her sister once a week—Sophia lived two hours north and wasn’t ready to relocate—and helped with her expenses. Paid for a housekeeper and nurse.

The diagnosis had made Nia realize she could gain the world but lose her soul.

She’d begun to feel like Solomon. Had begun to feel like everything she’d achieved and sacrificed was meaningless—things she couldn’t take with her when she departed this earth one day.

Those she loved were the most important thing.

So Nia had begun to make some changes.

She’d tried to become the person her parents would be proud of. Not that she’d done anything nefarious before. But she’d been all about work and getting ahead. About having the life she’d never had growing up.

She’d wanted all the finer things. And she’d gotten them.

But once she’d arrived at the top, she’d realized she was unhappier than she’d ever been before.

Success and money didn’t buy happiness. It had been a hard lesson to learn.

Just when she thought she was doomed to feel empty for the rest of her life, a friend had invited her to church. She’d noticed how Amelia, her friend, always seemed joyful, even in the hardest of circumstances.

She wanted what Amelia had.

Once Nia started going to church, her whole life had changed.

Even though Amelia had eventually moved away, the changes Nia had made in her life remained .

Nia pressed her eyes closed. Oh, God, what am I going to do? Why am I in this situation?

She kept trying to recall what had happened after she left that restaurant.

But she couldn’t.

It was as if her memories had been erased.

Then Nia heard the knock at her door.

It was the police, wasn’t it? They were coming to arrest her. The killer could have sent them her photo.

Who else would knock on her door at seven-thirty a.m.?

What would she tell the cops? The question tossed back and forth in her mind.

But she still wasn’t sure. Should she simply spill the truth and hope they believed her? Or should she try for plausible deniability?

Nausea rose in her. She couldn’t do this.

But she feared if she didn’t answer, the person on the other side would break the door down.

She pulled herself from the couch and slowly walked toward the door, feeling as if she walked to death row.

Then she pressed her face against the peephole.

A man in casual clothing stood there. He didn’t look like a cop.

Could he be a detective? She supposed that made the most sense. But she didn’t recognize him.

She might as well get this over with.

After another moment of hesitation, Nia pulled her sweater closer and opened the door.

Gage drew in a breath as the door opened.

Nia Anderson stood on the other side. She looked even more beautiful in person than she did in her photo.

But he’d learned not to be fooled by beauty. He’d met many beautiful women in his line of work—and pretty faces didn’t mean anything. Rarely were they a reflection of what was on the inside.

He hated to sound jaded, but it was true. He would just focus on remaining single and unattached. Life was much simpler that way.

On his drive over, he’d come up with his cover story. Now he needed to sell it.

“Ms. Anderson?” he started. “I’m sorry to stop by unannounced—and so early, at that.”

“I’m Nia Anderson. I don’t know who you are, but I’m not feeling well.” She pointed to her pale face and red eyes.

“I’m Gage, a friend of Rob Lesner’s.”

She blinked, her face growing paler. “Are you?”

“Again, I’m sorry to stop by unannounced like this, but I haven’t been able to get in contact with Rob. I was hoping you might know something.”

She still held her sweater tight at her throat as she stared at him. “Why would I know something?”

“Because he told me you saw each other last night.”

Her face was now as white as a ghost. “And how did you get my address? ”

“I did an internet search, and it popped up. I would have called, but I couldn’t find a phone number.”

She rubbed her throat. “I understand, but it’s not a good time. I’m not feeling well.”

She didn’t look as if she felt well, but Gage doubted it was because she was sick. Was this all a ruse to cover up the fact she was a cold-hearted killer?

“I just have some questions,” he insisted. “I’m not afraid of some germs. The truth is . . . I’m worried about Rob. I’m afraid something is wrong, and I need your help.”

“I’m still not sure what I can do.”

“I just want to walk through what happened last night. Maybe something you say will help me find him.”

Nia stared at him, a skeptical, weary look to her eyes.

Seconds ticked past.

Then she finally nodded. “Okay then. Sure. Let me get ready, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

At least it was a start.

Nia Anderson didn’t look like a killer.

But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t.