The Mistaken by Nancy S Thompson

the whole thing go, to accept what fate had decided best. But
as he slept beside me later that night, I continued to lay awake,
silently working on how best to approach Erin.
    The following evening, we had another huge blowout,
and I spent the night alone while Tyler slept on the sofa. During
those long hours apart, I decided I would just go ahead and do what
Nick had been planning. I would talk to Erin, scare her a little.
I’d tell her the cops knew about her and were going to arrest her
soon, and if she just confessed, they would go easier on her.
    Better yet, I would tell her about Uncle Joey and
even Nick and his Russian friends, explaining that there were many
who wouldn’t mind putting the screws to her if she didn’t step up
on her own. It wasn’t altogether a lie. And the message would be
the same, just a different messenger, since there was no way Nick
would ever cross his brother now.
    I had no intention of telling Tyler. He’d just
worry. What’s worse, he’d be pissed. He’d never allow it, and I
really hated when he’d try to control me in his self-righteous,
paternal way. I could handle him even if he did find out. I’d take
care of everything on my own and be back before Ty came home from
work. I worked through all the things I would say to that woman
during the hour-long drive up to Napa. If I confronted her at the
spa where there were other people—guests and fellow employees—I
could use the threat of embarrassment to keep her calm and force
her to listen. It seemed like the best plan, for now anyway. I
didn’t know what else to do, but I did know I couldn’t just let it
go, no matter what Ty had ordered.
    I parked out front of the spa and entered the
spacious lobby. Erin wasn’t at the concierge or reception desks
where I had seen her on my last visit. I walked up to the check-in
counter and smiled a pleasant greeting.
    “Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Erin
Anderson?”
    “Oh, you just missed her. She left on her break,”
the young woman said, but then she glanced at her watch. “But it’s
only been maybe five minutes. You might be able to catch her out
back in the employee parking lot.” She swung her head toward the
rear doors.
    I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “Back that
way?”
    She nodded as she answered a phone call. I waved a
silent thank you and took off.
    I returned to my car and drove around back until I
located the lot designated for employees. I was lucky and found
Erin as she was unlocking her car door. I pulled into the empty
spot next to her car, rolled my window down, and called out her
name.
    “Ms. Anderson? I’m sorry. May I speak with you for a
moment, please?” I shut off my engine, climbed out, and walked in
her direction.
    She narrowed her green eyes as she tried to figure
out who I was. It disgusted me that she couldn’t even remember her
victim’s face, and the rage started to boil up inside me again. I
clenched both my teeth and fists to keep myself from clawing her
clueless eyes out.
    “Do I know you?” she asked, one finely groomed
eyebrow cocked up at an angle.
    I took a deep breath to chase away the butterflies
and ease my fury. “Yes, you do. Very well.” I looked her in
the eye, willing her to recall my face, but all I got back was a
blank stare, both auburn-tinted brows now raised in question.
    “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you. Are you a guest
here at the spa?”
    I slipped in between the cars and stood in front of
her with my hands placed on the vehicles on either side of me,
corralling her as best I could. I bit my lip to keep myself from
hurling names and accusations at her. Though her mystified demeanor
rankled me, it would all come out in good time.
    “I was here, a couple of months ago,” I admitted.
“You might recall my name if not my face. I’m Jillian Karras.
Jillian Demetrio Karras. Do you recall that name, Ms.
Anderson?”
    An uncomfortable flash of recognition sparked within
her eyes before she smoothed it