The Liberation of Alice Love(99)
Author: Abby McDonald

Was this the world Ella had aspired to? Alice wondered, as she watched the sunbathers stroll from the bar to their crisply upholstered loungers. If so, she could see the appeal. Whether it was the money clearly in evidence from the ultra-casual designer details or simply the fact of the unadulterated sunshine, Alice felt a warm glow—deep and relaxing—as she soaked in the scene.

What must it be to simply start again, anywhere you wanted?

When at last she’d had her fill of the view, Alice called Rupert’s contact, briefly explaining she was an old friend looking to get in touch with Angelique.

“Sure, I’ve got her card here somewhere…” There was a pause, and then he returned, reading off a local number and email address. “I was going to set up a date with her. Do you want me to mention you’re in town?”

“Oh, no,” Alice replied quickly. “I definitely want to surprise her.”

Another few calls to directory assistance, and some enthusiastic Googling later, and Alice had an address. Crescent Heights. It was an older area above the main sprawl of the city, full of steep winding streets and houses buried in a lush tangle of tropical-looking trees. She slowed the car, idling by the curb as she approached the house on what was now her third loop around the block. A large Spanish-style building, it was set a little way back from the road with two cars in the driveway and separate mailboxes on the front lawn, suggesting that it housed more than one apartment—and that the residents were home.

This time, Alice came to a stop just up the street and waited, eyes fixed on the green-fringed entrance. As stakeouts went, it was low-tech, she knew: a bag full of bakery goods, a cardboard cup of herbal tea, and nothing but the radio for company. But as an hour drifted by, Alice refused to let her focus waver. She could just march up to the front door, demanding answers and a full confession, but what good would that do? She wanted to know the fabric of Ella’s life now: her fake career, the new set of disposable friends, the lies she was telling this time around. So she watched, flicking between classic rock and a strangely soothing country station, until just before one p.m., Ella emerged.

Alice sat forward, her last pastry suddenly forgotten in her hand. Ella was skipping down her front steps, head bent as she rummaged in a large leather bag. Her hair was the first thing Alice noticed. It was longer now, of course, but the formerly middling brown color was gone, replaced with a vibrant auburn red that fell in sleek, glossy waves. She was dressed smartly, but in a more eye-catching ensemble than she used to wear around Alice: a vivid purple ruffled top, a structured white pencil skirt, chunky gold jewelry. There were high heels, and the designer purse, but more than those shiny accessories, a certain confident strut in her walk that Alice had never seen before.

She looked like a different woman.

Alice squinted, just to be certain, but Ella’s face was unmistakable, even from a distance. She’d found her.

Ella climbed into her car and, a moment later, reversed out of the drive. Alice waited a few precious seconds and then started her own engine, easing after Ella as she headed off. Soon she would know everything.

***

Alice kept watch for four days, until the front seats of her rental car were littered with takeout wrappers and gossip magazines, and she’d seen for herself the new life Ella was crafting, out here in the sunshine. It was a good one: early-morning trips to a gym nearby, dressed casually in loose-fitting sweatpants and a high, bouncing ponytail; the stop for coffee at a hippie-looking corner café on her way back. Then it was home, for a shower and change into one of her chic, eye-catching outfits, before she headed out for her day. Ella didn’t seem to have a normal job, and she spent her days in a mismatched pattern of leisurely pursuits: working on a laptop in another coffee place; shopping the boutiques of Santa Monica; spending an afternoon tucked in a bookshop, browsing a stack of reference books as Alice loitered in the children’s section a safe twenty feet away. There were meetings too, a couple of lunches at upscale restaurants, printed pages strewn across the table, and a more casual coffee date that might well have been a social engagement—Alice observed them all, with fascination and a growing sense of resentment.

It had been seamless, she was coming to realize—Ella’s transition to another city, a newer, more perfect life. While Alice had been scrambling to prove her innocence and deal with the wreckage Ella had left, she’d been here: basking in the ease and comfort that nearly a hundred thousand pounds of stolen funds could provide. Alice had allowed herself to feel warmth, even sympathy, imagining the loneliness that Ella must feel. Now, having watched her spend a lazy afternoon picking out expensive bed linens, she wondered if Ella deserved any such charity at all.

“Target has arrived. Eighteen twenty-one Melrose.”

The metallic tone of her tracker device was like a friend by now. Alice turned left, and carefully slowed the car as she approached the row of neat shops and pretty cafés. Sure enough, Ella’s car was there on the side of the road, waiting for her.

“Thanks, Greta,” Alice murmured, finding her own space and managing a quick parallel parking endeavor. Naming her GPS locator might have seemed strange at first, but after approximately thirty hours in each other’s company, Alice regarded the small device with thanks and affection.

She’d lost Ella immediately, that first day out, watching with despair as she disappeared across a crowded intersection while Alice was caught by a quick change of lights. Alice had been briefly downcast, until Flora jokingly suggested she invest in some sort of tracking device. The array of discreet devices available at the nearest electronics shop was baffling to Alice, but she happily invested three hundred dollars in a sleek little pebble she affixed to Ella’s back bumper that night. Now, it didn’t matter if she fell behind in a traffic jam, or took a wrong turn or two, because she would always get there in the end. Wherever Ella was, she followed. Including Purrfect Partners, pet supplies. Alice watched, puzzled, as Ella emerged from the shop hoisting an armful of bags. She threw them in the boot, and then drove away again, picking the now-familiar side streets Alice knew would take her home.

Since when did Ella have a pet?

Alice went as far as her usual spot, just up the street from Ella’s house, and watched curiously as she unloaded the bags. For some reason, an animal jarred with Alice’s other information. Pets were permanent, they meant roots and commitment, not the temporary life Ella usually led.

Her phone rang, and when she reached for it, it was Flora.