Unexpected Rendezvous

Chapter 23

Jade's POV

I never fully appreciated Leigh's driving skills until now. It's almost 3:30pm, when greater London's early rush hour traffic starts filling up the roads, but we haven't seen any of it. She keeps overriding the GPS by taking back roads to get to Hyde Park, where Zoe is supposed to be in about fifteen minutes. When the system recalculates once again and posts a new estimated arrival time, it looks like we might actually make it.

"How do you know all these roads?" Perrie asks. She's been giving Leigh the lowdown on everything we talked about in Sorrento's, and Leigh has been absorbing all of it without arguing or defending Mr Gray. But she hasn't said much either.

"My boyfriend before Jordan was- wait. What's the deal with all these Jordan's? I can't keep up. Anyway...he was a competitive fencer," she says. "I used to drive him to matches all over the place."

"Fencing? That's interesting," Perrie says, and bam, Leigh jumps at the chance to change the subject, launching into a monologue about her ex that I immediately tune out. I don't blame her for wanting to focus on something else for a few minutes, but I can't do the same. I keep flashing back to what Mr Sorrento said in the hallway: Someone else called right after you. He sounded rather urgent.

Ever since Zoe started selling the pills, I've been mad at her. I was afraid she'd get into trouble, maybe even get Ma or me into trouble. But I never thought, until today, that she could get hurt.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, hoping for a message from Zoe, but it's from Ma. I get a quick jolt of apprehension, she knows, but it's just a picture of her and her friend Holly on either side of my Aunt Amelia. They're sitting on Aunt Amelia's rock hard, floral upholstered couch, which has a bunch of silver and gold balloons tied around one arm. All three of them are beaming, cheerful and oblivious.

Don't forget to call Aunt Amelia and wish her a happy birthday!

I won't, I text back, suppressing a sigh. Ma will know if I don't follow through, so at some point in this horrible, endless day, I'm going to have to yell birthday greetings so my 90 year old great-aunt will be able to hear me over the sounds of her party.

Which...huh. Gives me an idea actually.

"Almost there," Leigh calls.

I look out the window and frown, ready to protest, because we're still surrounded by trees, so there's no way we're close to a sports bar on the outskirts of Hyde Park. Then she makes a sharp turn, and we're suddenly merging on to a two lane motorway. I spot the blinking red sign for Uncle Al's Sports Pub less than a quarter mile away.

"You're a miracle worker, Leigh," I say, glancing at the clock on my phone before stuffing it into my pocket. It's 3:23, or about two minutes before Zoe is due to show up. Mr Sorrento told us routes can vary depending on traffic, but she was on time for her last stop.

"The good thing is, if she's in there sharpening knives, we'll know right away," Leigh says, turning into the car park for the pub. "You can't miss the murder van."

She's right, and Zoe's not here. Leigh pulls into an empty space and stops the engine. "Should we wait?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, because we're still a minute early, but Perrie shakes her head.

"We should go inside and ask if she's already been here. That way, if she's ahead of schedule, we won't lose time heading for the next place."

"Good idea," I say. Perrie is still in full disguise mode, her oversized hoodie covering half her face. "You want to come with?"

"Sure," she says, unbuckling.

We're both all business, not showing any trace that we kissed an hour ago. If there's one good thing to come out of this mess, it's knowing I might have another shot with Perrie, but I can't shove my worries down far enough to think about that yet.

I'm not my Dad, after all.

The car park is right next to the road, and the sound of cars roaring by at high speed makes it impossible to talk as Perrie and I make our way inside the pub. The noise level is almost as high in there; a tv blares in the corner of the entryway, and loud conversation spills over from the bar. The air smells like fryer grease and stale beer. There's a woman my Mum's age sitting at a stool beside a hutch with a stack of large menus, and she gives us a confused once-over as we approach. Uncle Al's is a restaurant, not just a bar, so theoretically we could be there to eat, but I doubt we fit the typical customer profile.

"Party of two?" the woman asks uncertainly.

"No. I'm looking for my cousin," I say. "She works for the knife sharpening place, Sorrento's? She's supposed to be in your kitchen now, or soon."

"Hmm." The hostess purses her lips. "Can't say I know anything about that. Let me get a manager for you."

"Thanks," I say as she rounds the corner into the bar. Perrie turns her attention to the tv screen, which shows Arsenal at football practice.

"Gotta love sports bars," she murmurs. "They're not big on the news, so I probably won't have to see my face plastered on screen while we're here." Her forehead knits up. "Do you really think that tip might've been called in by the person who killed Nelson?"

"I don't see why we should trust someone who won't even give their name." I lean against the hutch and think back to when Leigh and I first watched Simon Cowell this morning. "Plus, it's weird how the tipster called the police and Simon's show, isn't it?" I say. "Not even the regular news, which might've fact checked in a little better. Like they wanted that description out far and wide and fast."

"Yeah," Perrie says, her eyes still fixed on the tv. "You're right. And it worked, didn't it? Everyone's talking about me instead of looking for the actual killer. I don't know though." She scuffs the toe of her shoe against the floor. "Part of me still wants this to somehow all land on Mr Gray." I raise my eyebrows and she scuffs harder. "I guess because if it does, then it's more his fault I got dragged into this than my own."

"None of this is your fault," I say. "Anyway, somebody sent Simon Cowell links to Zack and Jamie's YouTube videos, remember? You could blame him for that." 

Perrie rolls her eyes. "You know that had to be Jamie."

The front door bursts open then, framing two figures against the bright sunshine outside: Leigh and Zoe. "Found her," Leigh says breathlessly.

Zoe's eyes widen when she catches sight of me. "What happened to your face? Did you get into a-"

Before she can finish, I've yanked my cousin into a bone crushing hug. It's the first I've ever given her that's not casual and one-armed, and it surprises me as much as it does her. Relief floods my veins, and for a few seconds, all I can think is She's okay. She's okay.

As long as she's okay, we can figure out the rest.

"Jade, what the hell?" Zoe's voice is muffled against my shoulder, and bewildered enough that I know Leigh hasn't had a chance to explain anything. "Are you alright?"

"I am now," I say, releasing her. "But we have a lot to talk about."