Well, not if Dawn had anything to say about it. Not yet.
'The Master wants to see you in his office.'
Without so much as a glance at her, Dawn stood and walked into the hall. She stopped before Mr. Osala's door at the far end. For a second she considered popping in like Gilda had done to her, then reconsidered. Why get down on her level? And why piss off a guy she wanted on her side.
So she knocked.
'Come,' said a voice on the other side.
Come? Was he kidding?
She entered and found him sitting behind his desk. She still wasn't used to his appearance. When he'd taken her in last spring he'd looked taller, paler, broader. More WASPish. As the months went by he'd seemed to become darker and more delicate. And he'd grown a thin little mustache. She hadn't seen him much at all since the summer. Working on some 'demolition project' down South.
'Have a seat,' he said, pointing to a chair on the far side of his desk.
Nothing had changed here since she'd sneaked a peek last summer. Same glaring overhead fluorescents and bare white walls. No paintings, photos, degrees, or knickknacks. Just the big mahogany desk, its computer monitor, and a filing cabinet. Totally devoid of personality. Just like its occupant.
She closed the door-didn't want Gilda the bitch eavesdropping-and eased onto the chair. She was still sore from the delivery, but definitely better than yesterday.
'You wanted to see me?'
'Yes. We need to discuss your future.'
Dawn couldn't help blurting, 'Gilda says you're kicking me out.'
He looked troubled. 'Oh, I wouldn't put it that way. You should look at it as being freed to live your life.'
Then it was true. She was history here.
'Comes down to the same thing, doesn't it? I'm being put out on the street.'
He smiled. 'I'd hardly call being moved into a two-bedroom Upper West Side apartment 'on the street.' '
'What are you talking about?'
'I'm talking about you moving on. This episode of your life is past. It's time to start a new chapter. And moving on requires moving out.'
She couldn't believe how totally devastated she felt. She'd so not wanted to stay and now she didn't want to leave. She'd grown used to the place. Out there was… uncertainty.
And Jerry Bethlehem… the baby's father… her Couldn't think about that.
Jerry was the reason Mr. Osala had hidden her away here, making her a virtual prisoner.
'What about Jerry?'
'Not a problem.'
'You've been telling me all along I was safe from him as long as I was pregnant with the baby, and if I aborted it, he'd kill me. Well, guess what? The baby's dead-'
'And so is Jerry.'
The words struck her like a blow, catapulting her to her feet.
'What? Why didn't you tell me?'
'I only recently found out.'
'I don't believe you!'
He spread his hands. 'Believe what you wish. I double and triple checked. Jerry died under a different, assumed name, so the news never reached me until a few days ago.'
She eased herself back into the chair.
Jerry… dead. It seemed almost impossible.
'How did he die?'
'In a most mundane way: a motor vehicle accident. But no matter the manner, it's the result that counts. He's dead, and that means the threat to you has been eliminated. I promised your mother I would protect you from Jerry Bethlehem, and I have. I am free of my obligation and you are free to go.'
Free… she'd thought she'd never be free. But where-?
'What did you say about an apartment?'
'I've found you a nice one and paid the rent in advance for six months. The lease will be up then, and you can decide to renew or find another place.'
He might have given her a little warning. And he might have given her a little say in where she lived, but still…
'That's awfully generous.'
'Money is not a problem. Your status with the law, however, is. You cannot move into your old home-'
She shook her head so violently it hurt. 'No way. I couldn't.'
Mom had been murdered there.
'Just as well. You remain a fugitive. Not that the police are actively pursuing you now, but you are, as they say, 'a person of interest' in your mother's death.'
'Oh, God.'
How could that be? How could they even think…?
'Your temporary accommodations will serve as a base from which you may begin to extricate yourself from your legal predicament.'
'But what about-?'
'Money? When I found you, you had a quarter of a million dollars in cash in your car. I deposited that in a small, secure bank with conservative investment policies that insulated it from the vagaries of the financial markets. Your money is safe. In fact you have more now than when you arrived.'
Dawn could only shake her head. 'You… why have you done all this?'
He shrugged. 'Why not?' He pulled a large manila envelope from the top drawer and slid it toward her across the desktop. 'Here's a copy of the lease, the keys to the apartment, and a debit card linked to your account in the bank.'
She stared at it, afraid to take it.
'I've… never been on my own.'
He smiled. 'You've got wings, but you'll never learn how to fly until you use them.'
Oh, spare me, shot through her mind. The last thing she needed now were tired cliches. She was scared. But she kept her expression neutral.
'I guess so.'
He rose. 'Georges is waiting to take you to your new quarters. Your belongings have been moved in.'
'Already?'
It was like he could so not wait to get her out of here. She knew she'd been something of a pain, but had she been that bad?
'Yes.' He extended his hand across the desk. 'Your life awaits. Good luck with it.'
She pushed herself up from the seat. He was trying to make it sound inviting, yet she was totally scared out of her wits.
She shook his cool, dry hand. 'Thank you.'
She took the envelope, turned toward the door, then turned back. One more thing before she left…
'About the baby-'
'Yes, unfortunate.'
'I don't believe he's dead.'
He looked surprised. 'What makes you think that?'
'They're not telling me the truth.'
'Why should anyone lie about this?'
'Because he's abnormal.'
She shuddered. Considering the identity of his father, maybe she should have been surprised if the baby had had no birth defects.
'Then all the more reason for its failure to survive.'
'But why wouldn't they let me see him? Maybe they're keeping him to experiment on or something.'
