Her First Mistake Carey Baldwin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📖

dropped to her knees. “I’m begging you, Mia, please, please, please don’t go. Someone dangerous is out there. Someone is watching.”

Mia’s phone buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out and saw a voicemail.

Thirty

It was late afternoon, and a sudden storm turned day to night. Because of the rain and fog, Mia drove the distance from her aunt’s home to the Coopers’ place with wipers and headlights on. San Diego’s bright, summer foliage was now the same dark brown as the surrounding air. Even though she knew it was an optical illusion, that beneath all this grunge, the trees and flowers remained vibrant, patiently waiting for the sun to reveal their true colors, dreariness sank into her bones.

She shivered, and then pulled into the enormous circular driveway, gazing up at the expansive, three-story brick house. Twice before she’d visited and had been drawn to its stately elegance. But today, with dark clouds as a backdrop, and water streaming off the gables like tears, the house seemed ominous, like a mansion out of a gothic novel, shadowed and secretive.

Her chest tight with apprehension, she killed the ignition.

Alma’s voicemail had been garbled from a bad connection, part of the message cut off, but Mia had gotten the gist: “Did she have a moment to stop by?” A simple request, but for some reason—probably Aunt Misty’s insistence that someone was watching—a strong sense of foreboding had taken hold of Mia.

She eyed the umbrella on the passenger seat.

A lot had happened today, and none of it had been good.

Waiting for the rain to let up made a perfect excuse to sit in the car and pull herself together. As the staccato beats of drops against her windshield lessened, she rested one hand on her abdomen, practicing her relaxation breathing techniques, and by the time the rain stopped, Mia felt ready to meet the remainder of the day with calm and reason.

She climbed out, breathing in the sweet smell of wet grass, and walked around her car, testing the doors to be sure they were locked, as well as the trunk where she’d stored her suitcase. Next she inspected the tires and windshield, then ran her hand around the muddy undercarriage of the car like Samuels had done earlier. Satisfied that her vehicle was secure and free of surveillance equipment, she cleaned her hands with a wet wipe from her kitchen-sink purse and headed up the walkway to the house.

Angelica opened the front door even before Mia rang the bell, but then didn’t step aside to let her in. “Hi, Mia.”

Angelica was looking at her like she was a solicitor or census worker. She didn’t seem to be expecting her. A clap of thunder sounded, and just that quickly, it started to rain, pour really, again. “It’s cats and dogs out here, may I come in?”

“Now’s not a good time, I’m afraid,” Angelica responded, a tight smile on her face.

“Your mother asked me to stop by,” Mia said, determined. Alma had invited her, after all.

“All right, then. At least you’re not dripping wet. I’ll take you to her.”

“Is she okay?” Mia asked.

“I’ll let you be the judge.” Angelica ushered her inside with a neutrality that felt cold compared to Mia’s prior interactions with her—she was a lot friendlier when she’d been drinking.

But Mia had said, more than once, she’d be available if the Coopers needed anything, and she was glad Alma had called. The Coopers were hurting, and a lot of people, especially the press, were trying to take advantage of them in their time of need. The Coopers needed a friend, and Mia planned on becoming a good one. She wasn’t going to take Angelica’s brusqueness personally, or read ulterior motives into her behavior. Her mind could easily take a suspicious turn if she weren’t on guard against paranoia.

She followed Angelica to the second floor, where Angelica rapped gently at a door. When no response came, she opened it and motioned for Mia to come inside with her.

“Mia!” Alma looked up, wild-eyed, from where she sat cross-legged on a Persian rug, surrounded by papers. Her hair was uncombed, and, even though it was late afternoon, she was wearing black silk pajamas. A tray with an untouched meal rested on a nearby desk along with a set of car keys and a prescription bottle. “How are you, dear?”

The question would’ve seemed normal if only Alma hadn’t spoken the words so rapidly, sounded so breathless.

Mia exchanged a glance with Angelica. “I’m well, Alma. How are you?”

“She hasn’t slept,” Angelica answered for her mother. “She hasn’t eaten. She’s hasn’t come out of this room since yesterday, and now she says she’s going to drive herself to the post office to mail thank you notes.”

“Does the doctor say it’s safe for you to drive?” Mia couldn’t hide her surprise. Alma had been so conscientious about not getting behind the wheel up until now. The lack of sleep, the grief, something seemed to be clouding her judgment.

Alma twisted a lock of hair around her finger, yanked it free and winced, seeming surprisingly agitated compared to the calm woman Mia had previously observed.

“He’s forbidden it,” Angelica said.

Next, Alma licked an envelope, and then tried to balance it on a tall stack of letters that promptly toppled over. “Driving is only forbidden if I’m taking tranquilizers, and I’m not—not anymore. I can’t get anything accomplished all doped up.” She frowned at Angelica. “Sometimes I think the lot of you want to keep me sedated to get me out of the way.”

“That’s absolute nonsense—and hurtful.” Angelica folded her arms.

Mia lowered herself next to Alma. “Do you need some help with all this? Is that why you called?”

“Yes, but then Angelica showed up. I meant to call you back and tell you not to come, but…” She shook her head. “I forgot. I’m so distracted I can’t think straight.”

“All the more reason not to drive, Mom. And I said I’d take them.” Angelica raised an eyebrow.

“You also said you need to get back