Part 38 (1/2)
A horn honked behind her.
The blast yanked her from her brooding, reminding her that she was stopped in slow-moving traffic on the freeway, northbound from Santa Ana. If she could get downtown in time, she might have a shot, she thought. But traffic all around her was at a standstill.
She arrived at the Golden Dawn Fertility Corporation before closing and went to the reception desk. ”Emma Lane,” she said. ”I need to see Christine Eckhardt. Please, it's urgent.”
”I don't think she's available to see you.” The receptionist, appearing slightly fl.u.s.tered, ran a polished fingernail down an appointment sheet when Christine Eckhardt emerged with her briefcase on her way out.
”Emma?” Christine was surprised.
”We need to talk about Polly Larenski.”
”We just heard. It's terrible. One of the doctors saw it on KCAL and we got a call from police looking for family. They traced the parking sticker on Polly's car to us.”
”I need to talk to you about what she told me.”
Christine's face reddened. She started shaking her head and glanced at the receptionist.
”I really can't; I'm sorry. It's a terrible time for everyone. I'm so sorry but I just can't talk to you, Emma. I really have to go.”
Christine headed for the door, giving her a compa.s.sionate but awkward smile that vanished when Emma seized her arm.
”Emma!”
”I just came from the fire, and I need to talk to you, Chris. I am your client, remember?”
Christine stared at her for a tense moment, then nodded to the sofa in the waiting area, keeping things within view of the receptionist, who was braced to call security.
”I talked to Polly about my baby and she told me she sold private information from your files, our DNA--”
”Stop, Emma.”
”Why?”
Christine swallowed hard and dropped her voice.
”You've threatened to sue the company. I'm a partner and I was legally bound to report your threat to the board. I've been advised by our legal department not to talk to you as anything I say could potentially be used in your case against us.”
”No, Chris, you don't understand.”
”I'm so sorry.”
”I was upset then.”
Christine stood.
”You have to go, Emma. Go home, get some rest. Get some help.”
”No. I need your help. Please, I'm begging you.”
”It's all very, very tragic.”
”I'm begging you, please.”
”I can't talk to you, I'm so sorry.”
”No, please just listen to me!” Emma reached for Christine's wrist.
”Larissa, can you call Mac in security to help Emma to her car?”
Emma released Christine's wrist, her voice breaking when she said, ”That won't be necessary.” She stood, touching her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. ”You were an angel when Joe and I first came to you for help.”
”I'm so sorry, Emma.”
”Not sorry enough to help me.”
By the time Emma had returned to her hotel room she was numb.
Smelling the smoke on her clothes, seeing her disheveled reflection in the mirror, she realized she needed a shower.
As steam clouds rose around her, she sobbed in great heaving waves. Overwhelmed by anguish she slammed her back against the wall and slid down to the shower floor, letting the water rush over her as she hugged herself in vain.
She'd already come apart.
Emma was exhausted when she stepped from the shower. As she pulled on a robe, the phone in her room rang and she answered it.
”Emma?”
”Yes.”
”Oh, thank goodness, it's Aunt Marsha in Big Cloud.”
”Hi.”
”Emma, are you all right, dear?”
”I'm so tired.”
”We were so worried. You gave us a scare, leaving like you did. We didn't know where you were. A concerned FBI agent gave us your hotel number. Emma, you've been through too much. Please, come home.”
Emma didn't answer because she didn't know where home was anymore.
”Emma?”
She remained silent.
”Sweetheart, do you want us to fly there and get you?”