Free Thyme to Live: A We Sisters Three Mystery by Melissa F Miller

information in his phone.
    Bo-ring , I thought. Financial markets news sounded like something that would interest Sage and old, rich guys and no one else.
    The chirping sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted my musing. The tinny ringtone was muffled and distant. We followed the sound back to Helena’s bedroom, stopping so he could redial after her voicemail picked up. When the ringing resumed, it grew louder at first. But when we entered the bedroom, it faded again.
    “Bathroom,” I said.
    We U-turned out of the room and headed toward the bathroom. It was definitely in here. The sound echoed off the tile walls. I pulled open the shallow, wall-mounted medicine cabinet over the sink. The contents were spare and organized, not the jumbled mess I’d expected. Project much, Thyme?
    A pink iPhone sat on the bottom shelf, mostly concealed by a brighter pink tampon box.
    “Found it.” I removed it from its hiding spot and passed it to Victor. “I assume your sister doesn’t typically store her phone with her feminine hygiene products?”
    He shook his head, staring down at the phone in his palm. “She usually charges it beside her bed. Why would she hide it in here?”
    “More support for my theory. She’s on the run, Victor. She wanted to leave you a clue but she didn’t want to just leave it in plain sight—in case Gabriel got here first.”
    He looked unconvinced. “Maybe.” He started messing with the phone.
    I figured he was trying to pull up her call log. But the fine hairs on my arms suddenly stood straight up and a chill ran through me.
    “Come on, we can do that someplace else. Let’s get out of here.” My voice cracked with urgency and fear.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “If Gabriel hasn’t been here yet, he could be on his way. He could be in the stairwell right now. Or outside in the hall. Did you lock the door?” As if it mattered—a flimsy apartment door lock wasn’t going to keep out a deranged police officer. I tugged on Victor’s arm, almost frantic now. “Let’s go.”
    He slipped the phone into his pocket. “You have a point.”
    But when we reached the hallway and I headed toward the kitchen, he pulled me back to the bedroom.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Let’s go out the way you came in. Just in case you’re right.”
    We hurried through Helena’s bedroom. A flash of green and purple caught my eye. “Wait.” I ran over and shoved the comforter back into the closet. As I did so, the hint of a thought danced through my brain. A wisp of smoke that said something was wrong or out of place. But then it vanished.
    I frowned and filed the emotion away to think about later then joined Victor, who was waiting for me at the window. “Ladies first.”
    I threw one leg over the windowsill and straddled it for a moment to get my footing, then I slipped out onto the metal fire escape and clambered down the ladder as fast as I could. I didn’t stop until I was crouched on the ground below.
----
    W e sprinted through the alley to the waiting town car. I was half-convinced I could hear feet pounding after us. I had to force myself not to turn around and look behind me. Maybe the two guys who’d been in the apartment had hung around to catch us on our way out. Maybe Gabriel himself was running us down, a gun in hand, ready to take aim.
    I lowered my head and poured on the speed, running flat out until I reached the shiny black car. Victor came up right on my heels, breathing hard. He popped the locks while he was still running and we threw open the doors and flung ourselves inside the car.
    I leaned back against the seat and tried to catch my breath while he turned the key in the ignition. He peeled out of the alleyway, palming the steering wheel one-handed while he jammed his seatbelt clip into the buckle. I fastened my own seatbelt then eyeballed the speedometer and sent up a silent prayer to the universe.
    “You make a pretty solid getaway driver for a financial reporter. And don’t tell me