Free Green Tea by Sheila Horgan Page B

slip anyway, took the shoes and ran for my car.
    I texted Teagan, let her know I got my shoes, and her shoes, and that I’d see her later.
    I texted AJ and let him know that the front door lock was changed, and I needed to know if he wanted me to drop a copy of the key off at the office, or did he want to meet somewhere, or I could just make sure I was home when he got home and let him in the front door.
    I called Adeline to see if she needed me to drop by. She sounded great, said that she had a full day planned, she was going to do some painting, and that she’d see me in a few days.
    I called Jovana and let her know about Adeline, asked if there was anything she needed from me, she said she’d need my help tomorrow, but for today, I was a free woman.
    I called Steph back, hoping I could pick up the journals. Her assistant said that she’d gotten my voicemail and that the journals were waiting for me.
     
    Back at the apartment, my day to myself, a slow cook roast in the oven for dinner, I sat down at the computer with the journals, determined to unlock their mystery.
    I created a table in my word processor and started to enter all the information I found about each of the girls. Everybody thinks that the key to a crime is most often in the minutia, so the way to solve it, is to sift through the stuff and find where it matches. I’ve almost convinced myself that I can do this. Almost.
    I did five rows, and five columns and then started sorting the information and ended up with a hot mess.
    On to Plan B.
    I grabbed a bunch of colored index cards out of a hatbox. I bought them when I was going to write eulogies for a living. I figured that I would keep all the different clients straight by assigning a different color to each client. That didn’t go anywhere, yet, but I have the cards.
    I assigned a color to each name. I started writing down the details that were chronicled in the journals. Once I got a bunch of them done I stopped, sorted each color into alphabetical order. It’s, admittedly, an old school approach, but it was working for me.
    I really need to learn how to use a computer better.
    With new confidence that I was onto something, I filled out more and more cards for each girl. I had quite a stack by the time I was done with the first journal.
    I sorted all the cards, stepped away from them so that their meaning could crystalize in my wee little brain, had a cup of tea, checked my phone for messages, and then sat back down with all the information.
    It told me a whole lot of nothing.
    Frustrated, and determined to use the computer to help me though this conundrum, I logged onto the Internet and started searching again, for anything I could think of.
    Nothing.
    Another cup of tea.
    I was trying to push this whole mess to my conclusion, trying to make the puzzle match the image I had in my mind. That isn’t how my life works. Just like Teagan said, my talent comes in seeing things sideways. Everyone else tries to make the bubblegum puzzle and I figure out it’s marbles, or whatever she said.
    I need to stop trying so hard. Relax. Let the answers come to me.
    I went into the kitchen. Peeled some potatoes. Took the butter out of the fridge so it would be soft enough for dinner. Stood up to the temptation to scrub something and went back to the table.
    I took all the index cards and shuffled them, then looked at them with new eyes.
    Nothing.
    I went online and tried to find something, anything, new about the crimes. That was really frustrating. Every time I typed in a name, the first thing to come up was some stupid social network thing or the other. When I added the word ‘murder’ to the names, I got everything from news articles to death notices, but nothing new.
    Another cup of tea, and it dawned on me that I was still trying to push this thing where I wanted it to go.
    If the first thing that comes up is a social network, then I need to take a few minutes and look at it and see if it tells me anything.
    I