Page 87 of Every Step She Takes
I take him through the morning of Isabella’s death. I include everything, even the fact that I have her phone and why. He knows some of this already from what I’d been okay telling him. Now he gets it all.
LlamaGirl:Taking the phone was stupid.
PCTracy:But understandable in context.
LlamaGirl:The police won’t see it that way.
PCTracy:That’s not giving them enough credit. The problem is that the police aren’t actually the ones you need to worry about.
LlamaGirl:It’s a jury, filled with people who won’t put themselves in my shoes, who will only think I made a stupid choice, and therefore it’s suspicious.
PCTracy:We’ll deal with that. For now, are you set for food?
LlamaGirl:LOL I am very set for food. I haven’t thanked you for that. It was incredibly considerate, and I appreciate it.
PCTracy:I just don’t want you having any reason to leave your room tonight. You’re safe there.
LlamaGirl:And here I will stay.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I expect that after I tell PCTracy the story, I’ll be a seething cauldron of nervous regrets. Instead, I feel only relief – the kind that relaxes me better than any sedative. I’m in bed by ten, and thankfully, I set my alarm for seven thirty, because otherwise, I’d have just keep snoozing. At eight sharp, there’s a rap on the door. PCTracy had said he’d order my breakfast and ask them to leave the cart after a knock. I wait five minutes before wheeling the cart inside.
I’d requested coffee and a granola parfait, which does not explain the two steaming covered plates beside my parfait. Under one is a waffle with berry compote and melting whipped cream. Under the other is Eggs Benedict with a side of bacon. And while there is coffee, there’s also cappuccino.
I survey the personal breakfast buffet. Then I smile and dig in. I eat and shower and relax, and then I settle in with my phone.
I pop over to my new email account, expecting nothing. Instead, there is a message from Tiana.
Lucy,
All right. Let’s hear what you have to say. Meet me at the address below for lunch at noon.
Tiana
I check the address on Google. It shows what looks like a three-story walk-up. An office, not a condo.
I message her back.
Tiana,
I’d rather talk. Phone or text. Your choice. Meeting in person isn’t safe.
Lucy
It takes ten minutes to get a response. There’s no salutation or closing on this. Just the message body.
You have the address. You show up, or you don’t.
I consider my options. Then I message PCTracy, just a quick “I’m awake. Can we talk?”
He doesn’t get back to me, and as the clock ticks past eleven, I know I need to make a decision.
I’m lounging in a hotel room, being pampered by a guy that I’m pretty sure is the lawyer who wants to represent me. If it’s not Thompson, then it’s his investigator, and the lawyer is pulling the strings.
Tuesday night, I was attacked in Central Park by what PCTracy thinks is some random guy. The next day, I get this lovely hotel suite with early check-in and all my favorite foods. It feels like a treat.
It’s not a treat. It’s a cage.
