You've Been Warned

PART 8

Chapter 50

I NEED SOME AIR!

That’s all I’m thinking as I say good-bye to Stephen. Our evening ends on the sidewalk outside Elio’s with an exchange of awkward smiles, a peck on my cheek, and the unspoken understanding that this is our first and last date.

“Can I hail you a cab?” he asks.

“That’s okay. I think I’m going to walk for a bit.”

It doesn’t matter where, and for the next hour or so, I pay no attention to the street signs. I wander aimlessly. It’s only when I get a strange feeling in my stomach that I look up for the first time and see where I am.

Sixty-eighth and Madison, right smack in front of the Falcon Hotel.

Coincidence?

I wish.

I’m starting to believe that everything is happening for a reason. If only I could figure out what it is. Something has to tie all this together, make sense of it.

Maybe the strangest thing of all: the Falcon and I have a history. Something I never talk about, not even to Michael. It happened my first week in New York, actually, just before I left Matthew of Boston. Since then, I try not to think about it. But here I am!

Standing in front of the hotel, watching as a few well-heeled guests exit and enter under the same red awning where the four gurneys came rolling out, I can’t help dwelling on one of the other strange “coincidences.”

My pictures.

Specifically, the transparent effect that happened with the body bags. And then with Penley.

There has to be some logical connection here.... But what is it? And does everything in life have to be logical? Since when?

It would be so easy to say that the dream I keep having is a premonition. I never used to believe in that psychic stuff, but now I’m willing to change my mind. Except the dream already came true. I saw it with my own eyes. Standing in this exact spot, no less.

The people in those body bags are stone cold dead. Penley—as if I need to be reminded—is very much alive.

Don’t go there.

I can’t help it, though. The thought creeps into my head, as it’s done a few times before. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s horrible even to think it.

And still, I do.

It’s Penley who stands in the way of everything. Were it not for her, I’d have Michael. I’d have Dakota and Sean. I’d have everything I ever wanted.

If only Penley weren’t in the picture.

Chapter 51

SERIOUSLY.

Don’t. Go. There.

With every step, I try talking myself out of it, but there’s another voice, a louder voice—one I barely even recognize as my own—propelling me.

My strides get longer and faster; I’m moving on adrenaline from head to toe. The night air is crisp, a lot cooler than usual for May, and I feel a slight sting on my cheeks.

I look up. Yes. Of course there’s a full moon!

What should be a ten-minute walk takes only five, and before I know it I’m standing right across the street from Michael’s building.

I check my watch. It’s a few minutes past midnight.

And you thought you got Michael angry in Connecticut? That was nothing compared to this.

Through the large glass panels flanking the entrance, I can see the night doorman killing time at his desk. I try to remember his name and I’m almost positive it’s Adam. I’ve only met him once or twice before, when he was filling in on the day shift.

It doesn’t matter.

I dial the building’s number on my cell phone and watch as he picks up. They always answer the same way, announcing the address in lieu of “Hello.”

“Is this Adam?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Hi, it’s Kristin, the nanny for the Turnbulls. Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor? Louis let me use the staff bathroom off the lobby this morning, and I think I might have left my purse in there. Could you check for me? Sorry.”

“Sure, hold on a second.”

He puts down the phone and disappears behind the door near his desk. A starter’s pistol fires in my head.

Go!

I dart across Fifth Avenue and burst through the front entrance. Racing through the empty lobby, I make it safely to the stairwell before Adam returns.

I’m in.

I hang up my cell and tiptoe up five flights so I’m well out of earshot. Then I call Adam back.

“Sorry to hang up on you; I had another call coming in,” I say. “Any luck?”

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t see your purse. It’s not at the front desk either.”

“Darn, I thought that’s where I left it. Thanks for looking, though.”

“No problem,” he says.

That’s for sure.

You learn a lot about a building after working in it for a couple of years. In the case of the Turnbulls’, it so happens there are no security cameras on the stairs. Goody for me.

Now comes the hard part.

It’s called breaking and entering.

Chapter 52

I HIKE THE REMAINING thirteen flights, struggling to catch my breath as I reach the penthouse. I check my watch again, which is just a nervous tic, I know.

Lights out at the Turnbulls’ is usually no later than ten. Michael rises with the sun, and Penley sees the benefit of a good night’s sleep strictly from a cosmetic point of view. God forbid she ever has bags under her eyes.

Still, I cool my heels for another fifteen minutes. One last chance, perhaps, to come to my senses.