Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Taryn better fuck off. I’m really going to lose my shit. I have not liked him for three years for her to swoop in and steal him at the finish line,” Chloe whispers angrily.
“Blake won’t like her,” I whisper. “Henley will like her. I just know it.”
“We need to take this bitch down.”
Knock, knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” I call.
Rebecca opens the door, “Hi.” She smiles. Her face falls when she sees Chloe. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”
“No, no, come in. This is my girlfriend Chloe.”
“Hi, Rebecca.” Chloe smiles.
“Umm . . .” Rebecca looks between us and then closes the door behind her. “Have you seen that idiot on roller skates?”
“I’m going to throw some ball bearings on the road so she falls ass over tit.” Chloe rolls her eyes.
Rebecca sits down nervously, and I get the feeling something is wrong. “Are you okay?”
She shrugs. “So . . .” She pauses as if choosing her wording carefully. “If I needed a confidential, unbiased female opinion on something in my house, could you two keep a secret?”
Chloe and I exchange glances. “Yeah.” We shrug.
“You promise you won’t tell anyone? It’s just that . . .” She pauses again. “We moved interstate to live here five years ago, and I’m so busy working that I haven’t made any friends. Well, I do have friends,” she explains. “But they are all couple friends, if you know what I mean. Like . . . I can’t trust them with a secret.”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“I need to show you something.” She stands. “It’s at my house.”
“What?” I frown.
“Come on.” She walks out, and we follow her past the roller-skating idiot and the sidewalk perverts.
“I swear to god, if she makes a move on him, it’s go time,” Chloe huffs as she watches Blake talk to Taryn. “This street is like fucking Tinder on crack.”
“Who are we talking about?” Rebecca frowns.
Chloe hesitates.
“Hey, I’m about to show you something that you promised not to tell. Your secret is safe with me.”
Chloe exhales. “I have a thing for Blake Grayson.”
Rebecca smiles as she marches across the lawn in front of us. “Who doesn’t.”
“I know, it’s so annoying,” Chloe huffs. “I wish he were ugly.”
“Then you probably wouldn’t like him,” I reply.
Rebecca walks us up the stairs to her front porch and into the house. She flicks the dead bolt on the front door behind us.
I frown. “What’s going on?”
“So . . .” She pauses. “This is so random, and I feel I might be going crazy, and I hope you are going to tell me this is all in my head.”
“Right . . .” Chloe frowns. “Go on.”
“So John’s back tire has been going down, and it was booked in for a service today to get repaired.”
“Who’s John?” Chloe frowns.
“Her husband,” I reply.
“He had to work, so I offered to take it in for him, and he took my car to work,” Rebecca replies as she leads us through the house.
“Right.” I frown. Where is this story going?
“And I took it in and got the tire fixed, and then I thought I would clean and vacuum his car out as a surprise.” She opens the internal garage door, and we see a gunmetal-gray hotted-up Audi SUV.
“Okay.”
“I want you to tell me I’m crazy.” She opens the back door of the car.
“Spit it out.”
“Get in.”
“What?”
She gestures to the car. “Get in, and don’t touch anything.”
Chloe and I climb into the back seat.
“Do you see anything abnormal?” Rebecca asks.
Chloe and I look around the car. “No . . .” We frown.
She turns on the flashlight on her phone and shines it on the window. “What about now?”
Two perfect foot marks come up on the inside of the door window: a woman’s footprints.
“I’ve never been in the back seat of this car,” Rebecca says.
Our eyes widen as we stare at the footprints.
“You see them, right?” she asks.
We both nod.
One footprint is at the side, as if someone has been lying in the back seat; the other one is on the other side of the window, as if they have been spreading their legs.
“You think he’s cheating on you?” Chloe whispers.
Rebecca shrugs. “How the fuck do women’s footprints get in the back seat of your husband’s car?”
“I don’t know.” I stare at the footprints. “They’re definitely there, though. You are not imagining this at all.”
“Fuck.”
We all stay silent as we think.
“You know what we need?” Chloe replies. “We need one of those black light semen detectors.”
“What?” I frown.
“Yeah, you know. Like the police use.”
Chloe begins to look in the pockets in the backs of the seats. “Did you check everything?”
“Yep, I didn’t find anything.”
Chloe gets down onto the floor and begins to feel around under the seats.
“What are you going to do?” I ask Rebecca.
“I don’t know. This isn’t concrete evidence enough to prove anything, but if he thinks I’m onto him, he’ll be super careful, and I’ll never know the truth.”