Like, Subscribe, and Murder by Nicole Dieker

Author:Nicole Dieker
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733691987
Publisher: Shortwave Media

Bonnie was as easy to follow as Anni had been, especially once Larkin figured out where she was headed. Larkin parked her car a few blocks away from Howell College, then picked her way carefully across uneven, unsalted sidewalk towards the apartment complex where Bonnie lived.

The cluster of dilapidated terraces was not as easy to navigate as Anni’s apartment building, but—luckily for Larkin—Bonnie’s section was far enough away from the parking lot that Larkin was able to spot her before she went inside. Larkin bisected a central gathering place, passing from grass to cement and back again, noting the wet leaves and red plastic cups that had gathered at the bottom of the empty swimming pool. It was easy to tell, from the state of the terraces, which tenants viewed their current state as temporary. Bonnie’s terrace currently sported a set of pink dumbbells and a pair of Howell-branded lawn chairs. There were also twin wind chimes, one on each side of the sliding screen doors.

Larkin did not want to get close enough to be seen, but she knew how sightlines worked—as long as she was unable to see into Bonnie’s apartment, nobody inside would be able to see her. Sound traveled a little differently, so she stepped quickly and quietly towards the non-windowed wall. This was probably trespassing, but she could always say she was just passing through. It wouldn’t be her fault if she heard something. It would be the landlord’s fault, for allowing tenants to rent a place with substandard insulation.

So she listened.

“I had lunch with Dad. He wants to know if we’re going to be at church tomorrow.”

“What did he really want to know?” That was Bonnie. The other voice was not.

“I don’t know,” the voice that wasn’t Bonnie said. “You know Dad.”

There was a noise—a phone, pinging—and a pause.

“That was Mom,” not-Bonnie said. “I’ll tell her to tell Dad we’ll be at church.”

“And lunch afterwards?”

“That’s the whole point of church,” not-Bonnie said. “Honor thy father and mother, get a free lunch. Make it through the entire lunch without taking the Lord’s name in vain, and they’ll slip you a twenty afterwards.”

Larkin wondered what her mother would think of that arrangement. Josephine would probably object to the psychology first and the theology second, arguing that neither the preaching nor the practice yielded adults who were capable of navigating the world without coveting their parents’ twenty-dollar bills.

“I’m going to tell them you said that,” Bonnie said.

“You had better not,” not-Bonnie said. “I’m the good one, remember?”

“Only because you do whatever Daddy tells you to do.”

“He doesn’t ask much,” not-Bonnie said. “And we get a lot in return.”

Another pause. The hum of a microwave.

“I taught my class today,” Bonnie said. “Even though my accounts were gone. I was able to contact customer service and they let me on my dashboard.”

“How’d you get on your phone?”

“I didn’t,” Bonnie said. “I borrowed someone else’s laptop.”

“Huh,” not-Bonnie said. “I guess that could work.”

“Yeah,” Bonnie said. “It totally worked. I’m going to

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