Her First Mistake by Carey Baldwin (books for 10th graders txt) 📕

sipped some more. “At one time or another, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Like the rest of us, Paul isn’t perfect. But, I think, Mia, when one has a family, one has to think of what’s best for them—especially those who have no blame or say so.”

Okay. Ruth was taking Paul back for Tennyson’s sake. Plenty of spouses had forgiven an indiscretion for the sake of a child, but what if Paul’s indiscretion amounted to something more. Did Ruth really know all about Celeste, like Jane assumed she did?

Or was she in the dark?

If Ruth did know her husband had been harassing Celeste, it would be better not to bring it up, in case Ruth tried to warn Paul before Detective Samuels could question him. But if she didn’t know, and Paul had something to do with Celeste’s disappearance, then Ruth and Tennyson might be in danger, too, and that was a chance Mia was absolutely unwilling to take. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I heard a rumor Paul had been romantically pursuing Celeste.”

Ruth’s hand slipped, knocking over her tea, spilling what little remained in the glass. “That’s a lie.”

“I don’t know anything first-hand, but it’s not a lie that I heard the rumor. Are you sure you haven’t heard it, too? Why were you going to leave him?”

“That’s none of your damn business.” Ruth narrowed her eyes at Mia. “And I don’t know where you get your nerve all of a sudden. I’ve heard nothing about my husband and Celeste Cooper, but if I had, I wouldn’t put stock in it, and I certainly wouldn’t repeat it. A horrible story like that could destroy my family.”

Mia gave her a minute. It was a lot to take in, and Ruth’s reaction was understandable. Her face looked like she’d developed an instant sunburn.

“Don’t you dare mention this to the police. You haven’t already, have you?” That nice, sweet tone of Ruth’s had completely changed. In the course of a minute she’d gone from a genteel socialite hosting a luncheon with her underling to a prosecuting attorney, grilling a hostile witness.

Which made it easier to let any remaining niceties fall to the wayside. “Tomorrow, Detective Samuels will be taking my statement regarding an incident that happened at school. You were notified, weren’t you, that school was closed for today? That’s how you knew I’d be free for lunch?” Mia asked.

“Yes, but the notice didn’t say why classes were cancelled. I just assumed it had something to do with Celeste. Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell me what’s happened.”

Mia took a sip of tea to soothe her dry throat. Someone had left those keys on her desk. It might’ve been coincidence, or it might’ve been something much more nefarious. She couldn’t imagine how Ruth would know she had taken Celeste’s keys, but Ruth had been in the right place at the right time to have planted the look-a-like keyring on Mia’s desk. “Were you coming out of my classroom when I saw you this morning?”

“I didn’t go near your classroom.”

“You were standing right outside my door.”

“I was coming from a meeting with Mrs. Pinkerman. You know that.”

“Yes, but after that, did you go inside my classroom?”

“I said no. What are you implying?”

“Someone put a pom-pom keyring like the one Celeste carried on my desk. Pinkerman called the police to check it out.”

“Was it hers?”

“No.”

“Well, then…” Ruth tapped her fingers impatiently, but didn’t drop her gaze. She was all eye contact now, like a kid in a staring match. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, do you?”

Seventeen

Checking over her shoulder, Mia took note of a black sedan creeping behind her. It had been idling at the curb, and then pulled away as she left the Piano Man on foot. Moments ago, she’d said her goodbyes to Ruth and after scouting the indoor security cameras, exited out the front, heading for her Jetta, parked in a lot near Horton Plaza.

On a trip to the ladies’ room, she’d verified that cameras were aimed at the exact spot where Celeste had dropped her keys. The same spot where Mia had scooped up those keys and put them in her own purse. And, as if that weren’t alarming enough, she thought she’d detected a threatening tone when Ruth leveled her gaze and asked: You’ve got nothing to worry about, do you?

Maybe Mia was getting as paranoid as her aunt, seeing danger in an innocent set of keys, imagining a menacing subtext behind Ruth’s words—but that black sedan…

She quickened her pace to a near run.

Because of the bumper-to-bumper traffic in the Gaslamp Quarter, she was making more headway on foot than the drivers on the road.

She glanced over her shoulder again.

That suspicious sedan was still behind her.

Which, under the current traffic conditions, wasn’t unusual.

Don’t let your imagination drive you crazy.

Behind her, an engine revved—so did her heart rate.

Be logical. No one is out to get you.

Tempted as she was to break into a full-blown run, she slowed down instead.

If someone was playing mind games with her, she wasn’t going to let them get the better of her.

Steps ahead, she spied her baby blue Jetta parked at Horton Plaza. She also noted the entry to the alley where the police had found Celeste’s purse.

Just get in your car and go home.

Mia turned and marched into the alley.

Her throat closed, and she shivered in spite of the temperate weather. If the reporters were right about a serial killer, Celeste was probably taken from this very passage. There was something familiar about the dank smell, the walls crowding in on her as she moved forward. Her pulse began pounding in her ears like a tactile alarm. She recognized that green dumpster. Well, of course she recognized it. It was the same as every other dumpster in every other alley in the country. It didn’t mean she’d been here before. That sleepwalking episode made it easy to doubt herself, but therapy had taught her