Not So Perfect Strangers by L.S. Stratton

Author:L.S. Stratton [Stratton, L.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Union Square & Co.

I’M ON MY YOGA MAT, LISTENING TO TIBETAN CHANTS AND DOING the downward-facing dog pose when my cell chimes.

I’ve been doing yoga and meditating a lot more lately as a way to taper off my anxiety and worries. The day at the spa didn’t work thanks to Summer and her little breakdown. I figured yoga and meditating would do the trick. They’re much better ways of achieving serenity than my other options, like climbing behind the wheel and ramming random pedestrians with my car.

It’s not like I need yet another trail for police to follow that could lead to my arrest.

I slowly sit upright, push my ponytail over my shoulder, and glance at my cell phone that sits on the hardwood floor beside my mat. I see that it’s our driver, Tony, calling, which is odd. Tony never calls me. If he has any questions or concerns, he knows to address them to Phil. Phil’s the boss and writes the checks, after all.

I slowly raise the phone to my ear. “Hi, Tony,” I answer before taking a sip from my water bottle.

“Mrs. G, I’m so glad you answered, ma’am!” Tony says breathlessly on the other end of the line.

“Why? What’s wrong?” I can barely hear him over the guttural moaning coming through the wall speakers. “Alexa, end Tibetan Monks playlist!”

The music stops and I return my attention to my phone.

“Are you running behind today?” I ask Tony as I dab at my damp brow with a hand towel. “You’re going to be late picking me up?”

“No, I . . . Ma’am, the car is totaled. We . . . we had an accident.”

I instantly shoot to my feet, dropping my water bottle to the floor and sending cold water splashing everywhere. “What?”

“Yeah, it was a hit-and-run. The driver came out of nowhere. I locked eyes with her in the rearview when she hit us from behind. Sent the car into a spin.”

“She?”

“Yeah, that bitch . . . excuse my French . . . knocked us into the guardrail and we would’ve gone sailing into oncoming traffic if it hadn’t been for the median. She didn’t even stop! She nearly killed us and just kept driving.”

My eyes go wide as I listen. My heartbeat kicks into overdrive. I pause and count to ten before saying what I’m about to say next.

I know not to sound too eager. I have to sound genuinely concerned, even frightened.

“Oh, my God, Tony! Are you OK? Is . . . is Phil OK?”

“I’m decent. A little banged up, but I don’t know about Mr. Gingell, ma’am. That’s why I reached out to you. He got knocked around more than I did since he wasn’t buckled up in back. He was passed out in the back seat, the last I heard. We got separated when the EMTs and fire engines showed up. I went in one ambulance and he went in the other one. And now I’m stuck in this damn hospital room. The nurses here don’t know anything.

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