The Liberation of Alice Love(98)
Author: Abby McDonald

A small part of her wondered whether Ella’s new life could come crashing down as easily as her own.

Alice filed that thought away to ponder during her ample twelve-hour flight time to Los Angeles. She was contemplating one last trip to the bookshop when her phone rang; the display showing a number she hadn’t expected to see. Nathan.

Alice caught her breath. “Hello?” she answered gingerly, turning away from the busy waiting lounge in an attempt for some privacy. Of course, after wanting to hear from him for so long, he would choose now to call, when she was surrounded by impatient tourists and the loud call of announcements. “Nathan?”

There was a pause, and then his voice came, steady and somehow reassuring even after everything. “Hey.” He stopped, and gave a low, rueful sort of laugh. “I’ve been nearly calling you so long, I figured I should just go ahead and dial this time.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” she said quickly. “How have you been?”

“OK, I guess.” Nathan paused again. “I, uh, got your letter.”

“Oh. I wanted to explain,” she said uselessly. “So, you’d understand.”

“Well,” he sighed. “I’m not sure I do.”

Alice felt an ache.

“But I want to.” He added, and just like that, she had hope again. “Do you maybe want to get some coffee? Or a drink. We’re probably going to need alcohol for this,” he added wryly.

“I do, but…” Alice tried to think of what to say, but then a loud blast of the announcement system rang out, demanding that passengers keep baggage with them at all times, otherwise risk controlled detonations and general chaos. Nathan stopped.

“Where are you right now?”

“The airport,” Alice ventured reluctantly. “I…found Ella. I’m going to see her.”

“Alice!”

“I stopped looking, like I told you!” she protested quickly. “But a friend found out by accident.”

Nathan muttered something under his breath. “Have you told the police yet?” he demanded.

“No. And I’m not going to,” Alice insisted. “At least, not until I’ve had a chance to speak to her, to talk things through. Listen,” she implored him. “I’ll be fine. She’s not dangerous, just…”

“A liar? A thief? A two-faced, fraudulent bitch?”

Alice stopped. “Yes, all of them, but…I’m doing this, Nathan. I’ve got to.”

There was another long pause, and then he asked quietly, “And if I told you not to?”

Alice exhaled again, full of regret, but determined nonetheless. “I don’t know if you have the right to ask that, Nathan. This is just something I have to do.”

There was silence.

“Look, I have to go,” she said, feeling that ache again. It shouldn’t be a choice, but if it were, she would pick Ella. She had to see this to the end. “They’re getting ready to board my flight.”

“You’re really going through with this?” Nathan sounded disbelieving. “Even if…”

He didn’t finish, but Alice knew what he meant: even if it meant the end for them.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he replied slowly. “Just…take care, OK?”

“I will.”

Alice hung up and sat for a moment, wondering if she’d just made a terrible mistake. But then the cabin crew announced that they’d be boarding the first rows now, and Alice felt her flutter of excitement return. Nathan mattered to her, but so did facing Ella. She may never get this chance again. She had to take it.

Chapter Thirty-three

Although Alice collapsed into bed in a jet-lagged blur, the next morning dawned warm, bright, and full of possibility. Scrambling out of bed, she threw open her window and gave a small sigh of satisfaction. Despite it being October, the weather was positively balmy, blue skied with a faint haze hovering above the nearby Hollywood Hills. Perfect.

Cassie’s hotel recommendation had turned out to be a scruffy place on Sunset Boulevard, boasting an all-night party in the mirrored lounge but basic rooms. Alice didn’t care. She leaned out on the tiny health hazard of a balcony, Los Angeles stretching before her in a strange landscape of billboards, low buildings, and busy streets. She had never visited before, but from her vantage point, it seemed to Alice as golden a city as Rome—not bathed in that warm glow of history, but something newer and just as alluring.

Now, where to begin? Alice grinned, realizing that it was less a challenge than perhaps it ought to be. By now, her investigations had given her such a background in asking tricky questions and obtaining confidential information that she didn’t even blink as she considered the challenges of the day. Navigating a foreign city, procuring Ella’s address, tracking and confronting an experienced fraudster. She paused a moment, struck by a faint wave of regret as she remembered following the trail in Italy, with Nathan by her side, but the feeling was soon pushed aside. This was her quest, and she would finish it alone.

Dressing quickly, Alice armed herself with her trusty notebook and a felt-tipped pen, all but skipping past the sullen, hungover bodies littering the lobby—until she stepped out of her hotel door and realized that L. A., for all its many joys, was not exactly a pedestrian-friendly city. Her attempt to procure a bus timetable at the hotel reception was met with smirking amusement, while inquiries about the metro were soon dissuaded. So, she headed straight for the rental agency and soon took possession of a sturdy, safe, but rather nondescript car.

“Here you are, Miss Love. You have a nice day!”

Alice took the keys with no small amount of trepidation, feeling their weight in her palm. “And I’m covered for breakdown and collisions?” she checked, yet again.

The toothy young man at the counter beamed. “Yes ma’am. Just call our emergency hotline, twenty-four seven!”

Alice turned, looking through the window at her chosen vehicle. She’d been assured it was the safest in its class, while the plain model would make it less of a target for thieves, but still.

“Is it too late for that upgrade?” she swung back, fixing the man with a hopefully persuasive grin. “I was thinking, perhaps, a red convertible?”

***

It was cliché, she knew, but Alice couldn’t help but feel that was the point: an open-topped car, wind-tousled hair, Bruce Springsteen playing on the car radio as she drove to the place where Ella had been spotted last. If this was her California experience, then she was going to do it properly. She happily strolled through the lobby of the ornate, chateau-style hotel, and took the time to relax with a tall glass of iced tea under a shaded terrace before beginning her questions.