Ыоуве Been Warned   ::   Patterson James

The note’s dated today.



Chapter 86



CALM DOWN,I tell myself. There’s a simple explanation. It happened again, that’s all. The hot water was out this morning and the morning Mrs. Rosencrantz came banging on my door. Two different days. As far as what the nasty old bat claims, she’s clearly going senile.

I hop on the elevator, my head a jumbled mess. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but I have a feeling that could change tonight.

Barely inside my apartment, I pour myself a Stoli. A vodka tonic minus the tonic. Then I gulp it like a shot. The only thing I want to feel right now is numb.

I wish Michael could be with me. Better yet, I wish I knew what he was thinking. Why didn’t he want to tell me? I worry about that temper of his too.

I pour another Stoli and page him while I clench the diamond-and-sapphire bracelet he gave me. I bet he wouldn’t mind now if I wore it to work.

A few minutes pass. The waiting is excruciating.

I picture him in a late meeting at Baer Stevens, or on an overseas call, unable to break away. Maybe he’s with his lawyer, planning an exit strategy. There’s a lot of money at stake in divorcing Penley.

A few minutes turn into a half hour, and the anger begins to kick in. I can’t take this. Why isn’t Michael calling me back? He has to know we need to talk.

I page him again.

Only now it’s not anger driving me, it’s fear. Has he done something? What might he do?

I hit *67 and dial him at home. I know Penley never gets the phone, but maybe he will.

It rings and rings. Damn it.

The answering machine comes on, and I’m about to hang up when I hear “Hello?” I recognize her accent immediately. It’s Maria. Only today’s not one of the days she cleans. In fact, it’s not even “day” anymore; it’s night.

“Maria, it’s me, Kristin,” I say, trying not to sound anxious. “What are you doing there?”

“I’m babysitting,” she answers. “Mrs. Turnbull call me last minute to come over.”

“Where’s Mr. Turnbull?”

“With Mrs. Turnbull. They go out to dinner.”

That stops me cold. Dinner? Together? “You don’t know where they went, do you?”

“No. They give me cell phone numbers in case of emergency. I call them, you want.”

“No, no, that’s okay.”

“When they come home later, I say you call.”

“No! Don’t – ” I catch myself and settle down. “I mean, that’s not necessary. I’ll talk to Mrs. Turnbull tomorrow.