Heading across the driveway, Kelly was surprised to see Megan coming toward her. "Hey, did you have any luck with the cell phone?" she asked. "Yes, I did, and we need to talk. Privately," Megan announced then glanced over her shoulder. "Why don't we sit outside and have coffee. There's an empty table away from the others." "Whoa, what was on those phone messages?" Kelly joked, almost amused at Megan's secretive behavior. Megan didn't respond, just gave Kelly a solemn look as she walked toward the outside patio of Pete's cafe. Signaling a waitress, Megan didn't even wait for Kelly to settle in her chair before ordering. "She'll have a huge mug of black coffee, and I'll have some Earl Grey with cream, please." Kelly leaned back in the black wrought iron chair and watched the young waitress scurry off. "I take it you were able to get into Allison's cell phone." "Piece of cake," Megan said with a dismissive wave. "She was still using the factory password code. You'd be surprised how many people do that." "Do you break into many phones?" Kelly couldn't resist teasing. Megan ignored her as she withdrew a printed page of numbers. "Here are all the numbers in her phone directory. There's Sophia, the designer from New York. See, there's Ray Baker. You and me, her parents, and lots of others. She must have had over fifty names." Kelly glanced over the sheet. "I'll give this to Burt. He'll get it to his police partner. What about the messages? Were there many?" "Oh, yeah. Several from the designer right after Allison was killed, wondering why Allison hadn't contacted her or shown up." Megan shook her head. "Be sure and explain everything, okay? I don't want that woman thinking poorly about Allison." "I promise. Now tell me what's got you all spooked?" Kelly probed. "Something's bothering you." Megan waited until the waitress had deposited coffee and tea before she leaned over the table. "Notice this name way down here," she said, pointing farther down the paper. "Brian. It's a Denver number. There's a message from him I want you to hear. It gave me goosebumps to listen. Everybody else's messages were normal, but his. . ." She shivered before she dug into the knitting bag and withdrew Allison's cell phone. Kelly paged through the phone's message directory until she came to the one marked "Brian." It was dated two days before Allison's death. Kelly clicked on the message and listened. A man's voice came across the line, a low baritone speaking just above a whisper, in angry tight tones. "I spoke with Sophia Emeraud today and asked when to ship my pieces for her show. Imagine my surprise when she didn't know what I was talking about. In fact, she didn't even know who I was," he hissed the last word. Kelly's skin crawled at the sound. "You never told her about me, did you?" the ominous voice dropped lower. "You lied to me, Allison. To me, of all people. I'm the one who got you started, you ungrateful little bitch. And you couldn't even grant me that one favor, could you? Oh, no. You wanted all the attention for yourself, didn't you? Well, do you know what your selfishness cost me? My career, that's what! You've ruined me, damn you! Do you know that? I'd made promises to that gallery in New York that I'd be in Sophia's next show, and they set up a showing of their own. They'd even printed brochures. I had to call that smarmy little bastard today and cancel. He was livid and hung up before I finished apologizing. He'll never hire me now, Allison. I'm finished in New York. No one will hire me after this." Kelly heard the slightest catch of despair in the man's voice, and there was a pause before he spoke again. Despair was gone and the ice had returned, along with an edge that made the hair on Kelly's neck stand on end. "I expected better from you, Allison. You knew how much this meant to me. To have you stab me in the back like this. . .I never thought you capable of such cruelty." There was another pause, then the line went dead. Kelly switched the phone off and glanced at Megan. "I see what you mean. Who is this guy?" "He's listed as 'Brian' with no last name," Megan offered from behind an oversized teacup. "This has got to be the 'Brian' that Allison mentions in her diary. I wish we knew who he was." "I checked the number to see if a name or address came up, but it isn't listed. All we know is he called from the Denver area, but who knows where he lives." Kelly stared at the little phone as if it could speak. "Boy, I wish we knew who he is. He sounded pretty scary on the phone. The police should know about him." She held her oversized coffee cup closer, absorbing its warmth. © Maggie Sefton