A few minor siren-induced freakouts later, Roxy pulled up to Adelaide’s house. Roxy knocked on the double doors, almost expecting to see Mandy, but thankfully, Adelaide answered.
“I’m sorry to bother you again,” Roxy said, “but I wanted to ask you a few more things.”
“No problem.” Adelaide stood in the doorway. “Will this take long?”
From what Roxy could see from the front door, the house looked the same. Fewer people. No BFF. No trainer. “Not at all. You had mentioned you’d gone to the hotel to deliver Donnie’s phone.”
“I did.”
“What did Mandy do while you went to the front desk?”
Adelaide leaned against the door jamb. “She waited in the car.”
“She didn’t come in?”
“No. I walked to the front desk, gave them the phone and the room number and left.”
“Then you all went out to dinner,” Roxy said. Adelaide nodded, and Roxy continued. “What happened after dinner?”
“We came here and opened a few bottles of wine and played games.”
“Was Mandy here the whole time?”
“What is this fascination with Mandy?” Adelaide crossed her arms over her chest.
Roxy needed to shift direction before Adelaide decided she was too loyal to Mandy to answer. “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this, and I’m going through and accounting for everyone’s time.”
“Mandy went upstairs about nine. She wasn’t feeling well.” Adelaide’s eyes clouded. “We’d had a fight.”
“A fight about what?”
Adelaide sighed. “She didn’t want me moving to Reno and leaving her alone.”
“She wouldn’t be alone. She has her daughter.”
“She and Gretchen don’t get along very well. Gretchen has always been more of a Daddy’s girl. She barely tolerates Mandy.” Adelaide shook her head. “It’s hard for Mandy to be so far removed from her daughter. I sometimes forget that.”
“You two made up, though. Right?”
“We always make up. We’re best friends.”
“The night of your scrapbook party, did anyone else leave? Go to bed early? Head home?”
“No, we turned on the TV and had a Hallmark movie marathon.”
Which went great with wine. Even Roxy knew that. “Did everyone have their Scrapbook Mavens jacket that night?”
“Nia didn’t wear hers. She left it in her bag. But everyone else did.”
“Did everyone leave with their jacket the next day?”
Adelaide bit her lip as her eyes glazed in thought. “I think so.”
“I’ve heard so much about these jackets, and my scrapbook club is looking to create something like that. Do you mind if I see yours to get an idea?” Roxy kept an eye out for lightning. There wasn’t one true thing in that sentence.
“Sure.” Adelaide disappeared for a second and reappeared with her SBM jacket. It was exactly the same as Nia’s except for the size. Nia’s was a small, and this was a medium.
“Did you order different sizes for different women?” Roxy knew the answer but wanted to hear it from Adelaide.
“You have to, so they’ll fit right.”
“That must have been hard to keep track of if everyone is different.”
“It wasn’t too bad. Patrice and Nia wore a small. Enya and Mandy wore an extra-large. I needed a medium.”
Now that Roxy knew what the women wore, she needed to check the size of the jacket—unless the cops had already put it in evidence. In which case, she was screwed.
“How big is your group?” Adelaide watched as Roxy petted the jacket. It was soft. Sue her.
“My group?” Her group? Roxy’s fingers stopped as her mind stopped tallying her to-do list and moved back to the conversation. “Oh. Five women.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem then. What scrapbook events do you attend?”
Crap. Roxy wasn’t sure if this was a trick question. Were there such things as scrapbook events? Adelaide didn’t look like she was trying to trap Roxy. No matter. They needed to get back to the jackets.
“Where did you get this logo done? It’s so pretty.” Flattery. Flattery worked every time.
Adelaide glowed with a huge smile.
Yep, working.
“I designed the logo myself. The font was all me.” Adelaide reached over and ran a hand over the embroidery. “Isn’t it great? You can’t even tell it’s not part of the jacket.”
Roxy oohed and ahhed appropriately—given she’d already seen this jacket. “Thank you so much for letting me take a look.” Roxy handed the jacket back to Adelaide.
“I hope it gives you an idea of what you’d like for your group.”
“It does. Thanks.” Roxy turned toward her car.
“If you ever want to join us for one of our nights, call me,” Adelaide said to Roxy’s back.
Roxy waved. If she ever got an urge to scrapbook, she’d make sure not to call this group. She was pretty sure there was a killer running loose. She slid in her car and drove away. As soon as she was a few miles away, she had Siri call Rafe.
“Are you home already?” Rafe’s voice was hushed.
“No, I was hoping I could get into the crime scene. I need to see the size of that jacket.”
The men’s and women’s voices in the background went muffled, then silent. He must have left the room. “The police took all of that away as evidence.”
“Shit.”
“Why don’t you head to the house? I’ll see if I can get something out of MacAuley.”
Her heart warmed. “You’d call him for me?”
“I would, but he’s already here. They’re looking into a robbery.”
“Has he asked about me?” Usually when she asked someone if a boy asked about her, she’d be devastated if the person said no. Today, she was praying for a no.
Rafe snorted. “Of course he has. He thinks I know where you are.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you used me for sex and ran.”
Despite everything, Roxy grinned. “Did you tell him you were heartbroken and couldn’t go on?”
“Something like that.” Roxy was sure she heard him roll his eyes. “Go to the house. I’ll stop by later to check on you.”
“Fine. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you there.” She pouted. She could admit it. That house was creepy and boring.
“You’ll find something to do.”
“Amato, we have something here,” a voice sounding vaguely like MacAuley said in the background.
“I gotta go.” Rafe hung up.
She headed back toward the weird house that had no food in the refrigerator. The rearview mirror showed her more pouting. Enough. The bright lights of Smith’s Food and Drug blinked ahead. She couldn’t do anything about the weird house. But she could fix the no food.
Maybe buy some ice cream. Or cake. Or cooked chicken tenders. Or maybe she’d get it all. She’d earned it today. Sleuthing took energy, especially when hiding from the cops.