Phoenix must have hired the driver to keep an eye on me. Nothing else makes sense. I don't want the Prius tailing me to wherever I end up, which means I need to make the driver lose sight of me somehow. But stunt driving isn't my forte, and the panic surging through me already makes it a challenge to divide my attention between figuring out my next move and staying aware of stop signs and traffic lights. What do I do?
Inhale, exhale, and think. Inhale--
I brake hard before I zip through an intersection with a stop sign. My tires screech against the road, then the car comes to a stop. That was close. Breathing is necessary, but now is not the time for becoming consumed by my thoughts.
After I check all sides of the intersection for traffic, I lift my foot from the brake and apply it to the gas pedal with more pressure than I mean to. My car jerks forward again. A quick check of the rearview mirror reveals the Prius still following me at a distance. I need someone else to suggest a plan for me so I can make it somewhere it one piece.
What do I usually do when I need advice or a problem solved, or to calm down? It isn't long before the obvious answer comes to mind.
"Call Ava Sinclair," I tell my car's voice assistant.
There's confirmation, then a pause. One ring. Two.
"You're psychic," Ava says when she answers. "I was just about to text you. I think I'm being followed."
"Wait, no. You're being followed, too?"
My theory that Nash knows something and Phoenix is scared he'll spill it to Ava and me seems even more likely now. He's covering all his bases and has people watching us both so he'll know our every move if that happens.
"What do you mean?" she asks. "Someone is following you?"
"A blue Prius has been lurking around since Friday. It might have started before then and I didn't notice, but the car was outside my building when I left to meet you for lunch on Friday, and then it was parked near Granville while we were there. I saw it after we said goodbye. It's behind me again now. Who's following you?"
"A white Ford Escape driven by a man whose face and hair I can never see, because he's always wearing a hat and sunglasses. I noticed it outside of my building the day after I got home from Vegas, because my neighbor always has their motorcycle parked where the Escape was parked unless it's a street-sweeping day. Then I noticed the same Escape in my office building's parking lot after work the next day. It was on my street again this morning when I left to run some errands, and it was behind me when I drove home from Erewhon just now."
My airways constrict. "This is bad."
"Why are we being followed?"
"It might involve Phoenix."
"Phoenix?" she repeats.
"I think he had something to do with Elenna Paseo's disappearance."
"What? Why?"
"He got weird after hearing the news about a break in her case last weekend, and again when he found out Nash talked to me about my book and Len before his show. He's also been hung up on not wanting you to get involved with Nash. My guess is Nash knows or suspects something, and Phoenix thinks he might say something to one of us that would help me connect the dots between the disappearance and him. He knows how much research I do when I'm writing a book and that I would have examined Len's case from every angle. It could also be why he surprised me at the show last night. He doesn't want Nash to get me alone."
It takes Ava a few seconds to speak. "Are you saying... I mean, you believe that Phoenix..." she trails off.
"He may be the reason she either disappeared or isn't alive."
Ava says something else, but my call waiting tone beeps multiple times and drowns her out. My stomach lurches when I see the name on my caller ID.
"He's trying to call me. I'm on my way home from his place." I swallow the excess saliva in my mouth. Nausea is back in full force.
"Are you still there?" Ava asks.
"Yeah, I'm trying not to throw up. I found a gun hidden in the floor under Phoenix's bed this morning while he was out getting us breakfast, and there's this whole thing with his guest room I'll explain later. When I put that together with the last week and other things that have seemed off since he popped up in my life again, it all made sense."
Don't puke. Listen to Ava and focus on the road. Everything will be fine.
"Just... wow. Does he know what you suspect?"
"Yes, and now I don't know what to do or where to go. He knows where I live, and so does the guy in the Prius. I don't feel safe going home, but I won't feel safe anywhere with someone following me."
One of my hands slides off the steering wheel. My palms are slick with sweat and my entire body is trembling.
"You should still go home," Ava advises. "I doubt you'll lose the guy following you, so you may as well go there first. There might even be an AirTag or another kind of tracking device on your car."
"Wonderful." I force my hand to grip the steering wheel again.
"Park your car in your garage, and then you need to get up to your place as quickly as you can, pack a bag, and go somewhere else for a few days. I'll join you there."
I do need to go somewhere else, but there's a problem with that. "How will I get out of my building or drive anywhere else without being followed?"
Poor Ava. She's also being followed, and she Âjust learned Phoenix may have killed someone and now both of us are probably in danger, but I'm looking to her for answers. I need to pull myself together.
"Another car," she says. "Have an Uber get you, and give them your garage's gate code to pick you up by the elevator so you won't be seen getting in from the street. Change your clothes, put your hair back, cover your head with a hat, and wear sunglasses just in case. You'll be harder to identify if someone sees you for a second or two. I'll do the same thing."
"How did you come up with that so fast?"
"A lot of my career is getting celebrities out of jams, remember? Sometimes that means sneaking them out of places without anyone recognizing them."
Right. She's spent most of her adult life cleaning up messes and thinking on her feet. It's a good thing one of us has these skills.
"Where will we go?" I ask.
"A hotel is probably the best place for tonight. Somewhere with security and that needs a room key to access the elevators. It will buy us time so we can decide what to do and if we should call the police."
"The police already know about Phoenix, or at least there's a homicide detective that said he needs to come to a police station. I'll tell you the rest at the hotel."
"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until you're home?"
"No. I'm going to do what you said. Pray I can make it out of my building undetected."
"I'll find us a hotel. Call me when you're home."
"I will."
The call waiting tone beeps again as I'm about to end the call with Ava. I let it go to voicemail this time, too. By the time I turn on to my street an hour later, he's attempted to call me nine more times and has left a message, and the Prius is still in my rear view. I almost expect it to zoom in behind me when I enter my parking garage. If Phoenix hired the driver to follow me, then there's no telling what he's been instructed to do after what happened this morning.
While I wait to see if the Prius appears, I go into my phone's contacts and block Phoenix, then put the phone in my purse. The Prius doesn't enter the garage, but my fight-or-flight instinct is still amped all the way up when I clamber out of my car. I keep a tight hold on my keychain pepper spray the entire time I creep across the garage to the building's elevator, and when the doors open after the elevator reaches my floor. There's no relief when I enter my condo and lock the door behind me, since I'm listening for footsteps in the hallway or any other movement.
I've just put my purse on the kitchen counter and am about to head to my bedroom to throw clothes in a bag when a sickening thought takes hold. How does the Prius driver know when I'm leaving? Yes, he recognizes my car, but there are other ways out of the building that don't involve the parking garage. Is he only following me when I'm driving somewhere and keeping constant vigil over the garage's exit for every vehicle that drives out? That completely disregards me leaving on foot or getting into an Uber or taxi. Those usually pick up and drop off passengers outside the building's main entrance, which faces a different street than the garage exit does. Is something else alerting him to when I leave, so he can watch all the exits?
My creative brain must be running on auto-pilot, because two scenarios I'd consider for a situation like this in my books spring to mind. The first is that someone has hacked into the feed for the security cameras that monitor the elevators on each floor of my building. While unlikely, I still have to consider it, but there's another idea I want to investigate and it means going back into the hallway. I also need to be doing something that looks natural, like taking a trash bag to the garbage chute.
A minute later, I have the half-full bag from my kitchen trash can in my hand and have opened my door. It's a challenge to be low-key about scanning the hallway walls and ceiling while I walk to the chute, but I can't call attention to myself in case there's a hidden camera somewhere. Nothing stands out on the way to the chute or for most of the short walk back, but then I glance at a potted silk plant that's across the hall from my condo. There's a small black square attached to the pot's rim, and it's angled at my door.
It's too risky for me to inspect the square object up close, but I'd bet every one of my book advances and my next five years of sales that it's a camera. Anyone monitoring its feed would be tipped off when I leave, would know what I'm wearing, and could then watch for me to exit the building by car or on foot. If I'm correct, then this makes the plan Ava came up with a lot harder to pull off.
I hurry back inside and dig my phone out of my purse, then head for my office. It's the room farthest away from my door and the hallway, just in case whatever is attached to the potted plant can pick up audio within a certain distance.
Ava answers on the first ring. "Are you home?"
"I'm here, and so is the Prius. There's also what looks like a tiny camera attached to the plant in my hallway, and it's pointed at my door."
"Noooooo." The way Ava draws out this one syllable would be comical in any other circumstance, because I can picture her jaw hanging open and her eyes bugging out.
"Check around your door, too. The one here is a small black square. I have no idea how to get out of here without being followed now."
"Can you cover the camera?"
"Not without it showing me leaving my condo and then covering it."
"Make it look accidental?" she suggests. "Is there a big box or something you don't mind leaving out there that could block it? You can pretend you're taking it to the elevator, but then set it down there to obstruct the camera's view. Once you do that, change your clothes, put on the hat and sunglasses, and make a run for it."
"I can try." I gulp in air and then bob my head, even though she can't see me. "Did you find a hotel, or do you want me to work on that?"
"Taken care of, as promised. We have early check-in at Loews Hollywood. I'll call an Uber and head over after I check for cameras here. Try to stay calm and just focus on getting there, okay?"
"Okay. I'll meet you there."
Ava is saving me from the fallout of Phoenix again. This time, I might actually owe her my life.
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I think this takes "Who the eff did I date?" to an elite level. Imagine if Del made a TikTok series about the whole ordeal...ð¬