Page 3 of What They'll Say About Us

It was a relief to enter our luxury three-bedroom suite on the thirtieth floor, with a view of the city and the river, a perk that had come with our keynote address.

As the heavy door closed behind us, I walked over to the windows, knowing that my friends had questions—questions I didn't particularly want to answer. As I looked out over the city, my mind flashed back to the past, to the first time I'd come to Chicago to see my aunt and tour Northwestern. I'd been so excited to get into their theater program. It had felt like the entire world was opening up to me. I was going to get my chance to be someone, to do something…even if I didn't know exactly what that something was.

Morgan came up beside me and handed me a cold bottle of water from the fridge.

"Drink," she ordered.

I unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, happy with the cool liquid sliding down my parched and tense throat. "Thanks."

"Are you ready to talk?" Cassidy asked, coming up on my other side.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready, but I'll talk." I walked away from the windows, taking a seat on one of the two couches that faced each other across a beautiful mahogany coffee table that held a basket filled with cookies and other treats, another perk of our recent success. I hated that I couldn't just enjoy all this, couldn't have gone from the keynote to the next workshop on my list, couldn't be diving into the conference with enthusiasm and energy. I was suddenly filled with anger and resentment. I had left my past behind. I didn't want it to be back now.

"Tessa," Cassidy said gently but purposefully as she and Morgan sat down across from me. "What was that woman talking about?"

"I was friends with a woman named Paige MacIntyre when I was a student at Northwestern. We were in theater together. A couple of months before graduation, she drowned in Lake Michigan. It was deemed an accident. She'd gotten drunk and was walking along the lake where there were slippery, treacherous rocks. The police believed that she stumbled and fell into the water, hitting her head in the process."

"But her sister doesn't believe that's what happened," Morgan said.

"Apparently not. Alina was in high school at the time. Her brother, Ray, was a sophomore at Northwestern where Paige was a senior."

"Why would Alina think it wasn't an accident?" Cassidy asked.

"No one could say where Paige was in the hours before her death. I think the last time anyone saw her or admitted to seeing her was around five o'clock Friday night. And she died sometime after midnight. The area where it was believed she went into the lake was off campus and fairly deserted. There were no witnesses, no cameras. Nothing. Her body was discovered on Sunday morning."

"What did you think about it?" Cassidy pressed, curiosity in her gaze.

"I didn't know what to think. Paige and I weren't particularly close at that time."

"What about motive?" Morgan queried. "Did Paige have a boyfriend? Did she have any enemies? Do you think she was involved in anything dangerous?"

"She was all about the theater. She had the leading role in the spring production, and she spent long hours at rehearsal. She had a boyfriend, but as I recall, he had an alibi. He was out of town that weekend."

As I finished talking, I saw Cassidy and Morgan exchange a look, and I frowned. "What? What are you thinking?"

"That you're talking as if you read about this in the newspaper, but you were in the theater with her, you knew her, how did you feel? What did you really think?" Cassidy challenged. "You're being distant and remote. You're not being you right now."

"I'm just telling you what happened. It was a long time ago."

"I agree with Cassidy. You're not telling us the whole story," Morgan said. "And you don't have to tell us, but let's not pretend you are."

"I don't want to go back to that time of my life," I admitted. "It was hard. It was painful. Her tragic death made everything worse. It was a sad and scary time. We didn't know what was going on. Everyone was looking at each other with suspicion. Did someone know something and wasn't telling? Had someone killed her? It changed everything for all of us. We lived in a world of make-believe in the theater, and even in college, it was a life of fun and classes but very insular. We didn't feel part of the bigger world or even the bigger city. But Paige's death changed that. It was a reality we couldn't avoid."

"That makes sense," Cassidy said. "And now you sound more like you."

"I hate that Alina showed up here," I said with annoyance. "We had such a great keynote address. I didn't want it to end like that."

"It ended with drama, which isn't all bad," Morgan said. "Let's be real, Tessa, if this had happened to me or Cassidy, you would be jumping all over it. That woman gave us our next case. All those people in the audience will want to know what she was talking about. We'll have a built-in audience from day one."

"I don't want to do it. And we don't have time. We're only here until Wednesday."

"We could make time," Morgan said. "We're already here, and our travel costs were paid for by the convention."

"Morgan is right," Cassidy interjected. "People are going to be talking about what happened, and if we don't do it, someone else might. There are other true crime podcasters here. We don't want to lose our edge, and we have the advantage because you have a personal connection to the victim."

"Since when did you two become so marketing focused?" I grumbled.

A smile flashed through Cassidy's eyes. "We learned from the best, Tessa."