So Pretty It Hurts

you’re the one who has the problem making a commitment. I feel you look for excuses to push me away—and then you blame me. Pardon me for playing shrink, but I honestly feel as if you’re trying to transfer your own fear of being in a relationship to me.”

I absolutely cringed at his words—not only because they stung but because I’d heard them before. I struggled to find some way to respond, but nothing came out.

“Okay,” he said, tossing his hand up. “You have lots of other stuff to contend with right now, and I don’t want to put extra pressure on you. But the ball’s in your court, Bailey. You’ve got to decide what you want—or we both need to move on.”

He rose from the couch, crossed the room, and reached for his coat. That was enough to jump-start my vocal ability. “I—I really want to think about what you said, Beau,” I told him, walking toward him. “Will you give me a couple of days?”

“Of course,” he said quietly. He leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips. As he slipped out the door, I had the sinking sense that things between us were now totally tenuous.

I paced the living room for a few minutes, beer bottle in hand. My stomach was churning big-time. Did the problem really lie with me? I asked myself. Jack Herlihy, the psych professor I’d broken up with last winter, had said I had a problem committing, and Chris Wickersham had suggested the same. Was it all part of a life pattern with me, the result of having a father who’d died when I was twelve and an ex-husband who lied again and again to cover up monstrous gambling debts? I winced, just thinking about how cliched it all sounded. If they made a Lifetime movie of my life, I realized, it would have to be played by some triple-named actress like Jennifer Love Hewitt or Tiffani-Amber Thiessen.

My cell phone rang from inside my purse just as I drained the last of my beer. It was Jessie.

“I just wanted to check on how you were doing,” she said.

“Thanks, Jess. I’m trying not to wallow in my misery, but it’s tough.”

“Did you definitely decide to go to the funeral tomorrow? If you did, there are a couple additional details I wanted to share.”

“Yep, I’m headed out there—but incognito.”

“Okay, from what I could find out, Thornwell is going, and so is that girl Stacy, the senior editor who just started. And there’ll be a bunch of freelance paparazzi. Some of them might recognize you if they saw you.”

“Good to know. I’m going to have to do my best not to let anyone spot me. If Nash finds out, it will make matters even worse.”

“I can barely look at the guy without puking. Have you found out anything more?”

I told her about my investigation so far, the revelations I’d dug up, including the info about Richard’s sister. Also, because she was my friend and not simply a work pal, I told her about my harrowing experience with the gypsy cab driver. Just talking about it made my pulse start to pound.

“That’s horrible,” Jessie exclaimed. “Did you tell the police?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t very helpful. To be honest, I’m more upset about what’s happening to me with Buzz. Do you think that Nash is really trying to clear me?”

Jessie sighed.

“He may be,” she said, “but from my vantage point out on the floor, it looks like he’s just going about his business. I thought something was up this morning. He was in a pissy mood, and later he was talking to a bunch of guys in his office, but someone told me those were dudes from the circulation department. Our newsstand numbers are down, like all the other tabloids. That seems to be his main focus, from what people are saying.”

“I wonder if he turned the investigation over to the legal department.”

“I don’t know. I arranged to have lunch on Monday with one of the younger lawyers I know on the corporate floor. I’m going to see what I can find out from her.”

“Jessie, I so appreciate your help. Just don’t make trouble for yourself by snooping around.”

“Don’t worry. This chick is a real busybody. She gossips an awful lot for a lawyer.”

“Wait,” I said. My heart had just done a weird lurch. “What did you say?”

“She likes to gossip.”

“No, before that.

“She’s a busybody.”

“Um, okay,” I said, distractedly. I had to fight for a second to catch a breath. “Look, I better sign off and get ready for tomorrow. I’ll call you when I’m back and let you know how it went.”

I tossed my BlackBerry in my purse and collapsed on the couch. My heart was beating hard now. Because I finally knew what the gypsy cab driver had yelled to me from his window. Not “Stop. Be a body.” He’d said, “Stop being a busy body.”

It was a threat. As if he knew exactly who I was and what I’d been up to.

Chapter 19

It was after one before I finally fell into bed. After the call with Jessie, I helped myself to another beer, hoping it would take the edge off, but as I sat on the couch drinking it, with the winter wind rattling the glass door to my terrace, I started to feel even more alarmed. It seemed as if someone must have paid the gypsy cab driver to scare the bejesus out of me, possibly even hurt me. I’d thought he’d been waiting outside the bar for potential customers, but he’d been waiting specifically for me.

Had Tommy set the whole thing up? I wondered. He was the only one who knew I was headed to the Living Room that night. Unless someone had followed me from my apartment.

Tomorrow I was going to have to share this new development with Collinson. Maybe it would help him see that there really was someone out there who was terrified of the truth coming to light. And I knew that I would have to be extremely careful tomorrow. I couldn’t let my guard down out in Pine Grove.

I thought that going to bed on the late side would help me avoid insomnia, but no sooner had I crawled under my comforter than it came roaring into the bedroom like the Terminator, intent on its mission. I tossed and turned for a few hours. It wasn’t just the trip to Pine Grove that was weighing on me. I couldn’t stop replaying the words I now knew the cabdriver had hurled at me. Stop being a busybody. And when that wasn’t sounding in my head, I was playing the tape of what Beau had said. Gee, I thought, my life kind of sucks at the moment, doesn’t it? Finally, when the digits on the bedside clock had flipped past 3:30, I felt myself drifting off.

My alarm beeped obnoxiously at 6:00 a.m., and I awoke feeling groggy and achy. Since my disguise called for looking as grungy as possible, there seemed to be no major reason for a shower, shampoo, and blow out, so I splashed cold water on my face and slipped into my outfit. I filled an old thermos with steaming hot coffee and packed a small cooler with a sandwich and fruit. Chances were that I’d be stuck in the car for hours, and I didn’t want to traipse around town looking for lunch.

The rental car turned out to be a Toyota Corolla. Not as sturdy as my Jeep, but the weather forecast called for clear skies, so at least I wouldn’t be fighting a blizzard in it. And it came with GPS.

After pulling the car out of the garage of the car rental place, I double-parked on the street just long enough to organize all the gear I’d lugged with me. I placed the cooler and thermos in the front seat next to me, along with my binoculars. While I had the chance, I checked my BlackBerry for messages. I wasn’t expecting anything this early, but a tiny part of me was hoping there might be a message from Beau, wishing me luck today.

There was nothing from him, but there was a text message from a number not in my system. And my heart jerked as I read it.

I have info about Devon Barr you must know. Meet me outside of Pine Grove today. 4:00. In front of gray barn on rte. 22. Just before turn onto Sunday Rd.