Part 15 (1/2)
She tried to close the window, but he reached in and stopped her. ”I need to see your license and registration.”
Her license? Did she have her driver's license? And the registration? Where on earth would Alice keep the registration? Poppy fumbled with the Miu Miu-why had she changed back to her big bag at Momma's? And, oh, no! She hadn't left any trinkets in there, had she?
She started to cry.
”Ma'am,” the police officer said, ”have you been drinking this morning?”
”Drinking? What? Good heavens. It's not even noon!” She fumbled some more.
”I need to ask you to get out of the car.”
Poppy froze.
”Now, please, ma'am.”
She felt the blood drain from her face the way it always did just before she fainted. Then she heard a familiar voice.
”Excuse me, Officer. Is something wrong?” It was Alice. Dear G.o.d, it was Alice. Poppy unbuckled the seat belt and scrambled over the console to the pa.s.senger's side.
”I told her to keep driving around the block while I ran an errand. Poppy?” she asked as she leaned past the policeman and poked her head into the car, ”didn't I tell you to keep driving?”
”I'm sorry,” was all Poppy could manage to say. ”I was frightened I'd get lost.”
”She doesn't come into the city very often,” Alice calmly explained.
”Is this your vehicle?”
”Yes. Would you like to see my registration?”
”No, that's fine. But please get in and move along. Parking is illegal here.”
”Thank you, Officer.” Alice got in, buckled up, and turned off the four-ways. She cast a side look at Poppy, then pulled into traffic without saying a word.
Twenty-six.
When CJ awoke on Malcolm's bed, the odd thing was that she hadn't dreamed about him but about her ex-husband, Cooper. The truth was, she did that often. Throughout the day, the man in her thoughts was usually Malcolm. But during the night, her world belonged to Cooper.
That time they'd been on the ice rink in Central Park, skating to ”Lara's Theme,” as if they'd been atop a music box, the lights of the Manhattan skyline s.h.i.+mmering against the slate-colored sky.
”What do you want for Christmas?” Cooper had asked as they glided together, hand in hand, like teenagers on a first date. They'd been that-kind-of-comfortable since the beginning: every day sweet and nice, every day a first date.
”I want a rose-colored silk dress to paint for the premiere of your play.”
He laughed. ”I'll buy you whatever color you'd like. Now ask what I want.”
”What do you want?”
”A baby.”
”A baby?”
”A son. Or a daughter.” His leather gloves squeezed tightly against her thick mittens. The pace grew faster, the music louder, chiming, chiming...
CJ woke up.
In a strange room.
On a bed.
Malcolm's bed.
She checked the clock; it was just past noon.
Chimes sounded again. One, two, soft and muted, tuneful and...
Oh, my G.o.d, she thought, leaping from the bed. The doorbell is ringing! The doorbell was ringing and there she was on Malcolm's bed.
She raced from his cozy room, through the master bedroom and out into the hall, pus.h.i.+ng her thoughts from Cooper, back to Malcolm, back to Elinor. She prayed it wasn't Janice or even a housekeeper who'd forgotten a key. She'd be mortified if anyone found out she'd been sleeping where she'd been sleeping.
Oh, G.o.d, she thought again as she swung around the corner and spiraled down the stairs. I didn't smooth the comforter or close the door behind me.
She a.s.sured herself that it wouldn't matter if the blackmailer was the one at the door.
It was not the blackmailer; it was Yolanda. Her little girl was perched on her hip.
”Surprise,” Yolanda said, which was, of course, an understatement. ”Is Elinor here?”
”No,” CJ replied as she drooped against the door and tried to catch her breath. ”You missed her. She's gone to gather the ransom.”
”Did she hear anything?”
”He called. She said she was getting the money.”
”Rats.”
”Rats,” the little girl repeated.
CJ smiled. She wished she could remember the child's name. Then she noticed a look of concern on Yolanda's face. ”What's wrong?”
”Well, nothing. I guess it can wait.”
”Why don't you come in? I could make tea. Or find something for lunch?”
”I've only come for the note. The ransom note. Do you know where it is?”
Elinor hadn't shown CJ the note or told her where it was. For all CJ knew, Elinor had burned it after Jonas had found it. It was what CJ would have done.