claustrophobic feeling I experience when I scuba dive. I gave up holding my breath and opted for closing my eyes. I practiced Lamaze breathing again.
When it came time for me to have a baby, I’d be all set.
I gave myself a mental shake. This wasn’t the time!
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Heather Webber
Leaning my head against the closet wall, I wished I hadn’t given up on gymnastics when I was a kid. Flexibility and I didn’t get along. My knees screamed, my back ached, and something dug into my back. A bracket for the shelves. My thighs tingled—the beginning of a Charlie horse.
I tried to flex my foot and nearly kicked the basket of mushrooms. I stayed put. What was a little pain?
I could handle it.
“Has anyone else been in here?” Bill’s voice was so clear, so loud, he had to have been standing on the other side of the door.
“Not that I know of.” Noreen’s voice sounded strained, stiff.
What was she doing here? She must have been notified by the police that Greta had died. Wouldn’t she be at the house?
At the hospital where they’d taken the body for an autopsy?
Not that she could do much at either place.
“I, um, might have locked it.”
Riley? I stiffened, and regretted it immediately.
I bit my lip against the pain of the Charlie horse and kneaded my thigh, trying to get rid of it, all the while wondering what Riley was doing with Bill and Noreen. Wasn’t he working the register? How long had I been in the office?
Holding my watch up to a sliver of light, I realized I’d been snooping for fifteen minutes.
“When I came in to get, uh, some cash register tape earlier. My mom always makes me lock up when I leave the house. Habit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Bill said.
My mind raced. Had Riley just called me his mom? Had I been hearing things? Had I been sniffing too many fungus fumes?
His mom.
Tears gathered in my eyes, and I looked up, trying to keep
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them in. Something taped to the underside of the bottom shelf near the mushroom barrels caught my eye. I squinted, trying to make it out.
I didn’t dare move, but from where I was it looked like a manila envelope.
“What’re you doing down there?” Bill asked.
“Tying my shoe,” Riley answered. “Not so easy with this splint.”
“Need help?” Noreen asked.
“Nope. Got it. Thanks.”
“You need a ride home?” Bill asked.
“No, my mom’s coming,” Riley said.
There it was again. Mom.
My heart produced a weird warm and fuzzy feeling, and I basked in it for a second before I stiffened again.
I barely held in the
The spasm eased, the pain lessened, and I remembered why I had stiffened in the first place.
Riley. Lying. Not just about me not being there yet to pick him up, but about locking the door in the first place.
Why?
Did he somehow know I was in here?
How?
As quietly as I could, I felt my pockets.
No keys.
They were sitting on the floor next to Bill’s desk!
