After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 167

“But I thought—”

“I know what you thought. That you were suspect numero uno, and maybe you are, I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’ve been up on Detective Nash’s popularity list, too. In fact, she’s been calling me day and night.” Furtively, he’d looked around the pillar to the heart of the party. “You know, I’m surprised she isn’t here right now, trying to interrogate me. You’ve met her, right?” he’d asked, his gaze holding hers. “The ice-queen cop?”

“You know I have.”

“It was a rhetorical question, but, listen, just so we’re on the same page? Where the cops are concerned, keep your damned mouth shut about me.” His eyes had burned with a quiet fury. “Got it?” he’d asked through clenched teeth, but he hadn’t waited for a response, just turned on his heel and made a beeline to the bar. As he’d leaned into the bartender to give his order, two blondes in miniskirts had descended out of thin air to hang on his every word.

Pathetic.

She took another sip of her drink.

“Let’s go,” she said finally. Trent was leaning over the balcony, staring down to the street. Cool air ruffled his hair and the scent of the Willamette River was discernable in the dampness in the air. Below, on the sidewalks, pedestrians in coats with hoods or tucked under umbrellas moved quickly, while cars and trucks rumbled along the streets.

She was tired and the party had been a struggle. She hadn’t learned anything that would help her find her sister. Her younger sister, she reminded herself, still adjusting to her new reality. She’d just have to walk through the giant room with its ridiculous sets featuring Allie as Shondie one more time, then she and Trent could drive home, which is what she was beginning to think of his ranch.

Home. The word had a nice ring to it.

She was turning to step inside the ballroom when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a movement on a balcony a few floors overhead. Pausing, she saw that a woman was standing, almost posed, looking into the night.

Cassie’s heart clenched.

She squinted and her throat closed.

Was it? Could it be? Dear God, the woman looked like Allie!

No way! It’s the drinks. The imagery of the sets! The lifelike mannequins. All of the talk about the missing star of Dead Heat. She looked again and the woman had disappeared into the night.

“Stupid,” she whispered.

“What?” Trent asked. “Ready?”

“Yeah, just remind me the next time I want a tequila sunrise, that it’s a bad idea. Make that a very bad idea.”

“You got it.” Trent’s thin lips curved into that bad-boy smile that still got to her.

As she headed for the door, she glanced up one more time and the woman reappeared on the balcony. She was wearing a gray dress and raincoat that billowed away from her, a coat similar to one that Cassie had seen Allie wear several times last year.

It couldn’t be!

The woman looked down; smiled that Allie signature smile.

Cassie stared. Disbelieving. Her brain screaming at her that what she was seeing was a fake, a distortion, her mind playing tricks on her. “Holy shit,” she whispered, her mouth suddenly devoid of spit. “Allie,” she whispered.

And the woman stepped out of sight again.

No!

“What?” Trent said.

“I saw Allie.” Her voice sounded odd, even to her own ears.

“Allie? No. Wait a second.”

“Up there! On that balcony.” A jumble of emotions tore at her and she was jabbing her finger in the air, pointing wildly at the seventh-floor balcony. “The corner room! Five floors up.”

Trent tilted his head, his gaze scouring the side of the building. “I don’t see anything.”

“That balcony right there, with the . . . the damned door is open, the curtains billowing. I’m telling you it was Allie!” she said, nearly hysterical. Frantic, she headed for the doors. “We have to go. I have to find her.”

“Cass—” His voice was reproachful. “There have been tons of sightings and none of them panned out, you know that. I think your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“Then let’s find out!” she said angrily, knowing he was right, rational thought arguing with what she was certain she’d seen. “I know it sounds crazy, Trent, but I’m telling you it was Allie!”