Elaina took the elevator down to the main floor. When she got off and walked past the security desk, the guy from earlier was gone. He was replaced by someone else.
“Good evening, Ms. Thomas.” He said.
Elaina threw up a hand to wave. Instead of going into the garage, she walked right out of the revolving doors. Elaina lifted her phone and set the alarm for two hours. She then clicked another button, and she had Harlem’s entire apartment on video.
Elaina walked the two city blocks to her car. She opened her trunk and removed the door to the hidden compartment. There it is. Elaina pulled out a black duffle bag and unzipped it. Inside were a hammer, a gun, a few towels, alcohol, lighter fluid, another wig, a newborn onesie, and a scalpel. She grabbed the bag and closed the trunk.
In just a few hours, all of her problems would be over.
*****
Harlem stepped out of the shower and walked over to the sink. As she was wrapping a towel around her body, she noticed Carter’s cellphone. It was on the counter. She couldn’t even call him to say he’d left it. That thing was usually tied to his hip. Harlem figured he had probably already realized he had left it.
Harlem yawned as she walked into her bedroom. She was so tired. Harlem wasn’t sure she could stand much longer. Somehow, she managed to put on a nightgown and climb into bed.
Before her head even hit the pillow, Harlem was out cold.
Chapter 17
Carter was more than half-way home when he realized that he’d left his cell phone at her place. Without a second thought, he whipped his car around to go get it. For a millisecond, Carter thought about just going home then decided against it. A corner of his lips lifted in a lazy smile—anything to see her again.
It took him almost forty-five minutes before he pulled up into Harlem’s parking garage. Carter still wouldn’t park in Damian’s designated spot. Fortunately, there was a visitor’s parking space close to the door. He pulled his car into it, then went around to the trunk to retrieve his overnight bag. It was too late to drive back to his place tonight. He would just sleep on the sofa.
Carter walked into the building toward the security desk. Max was gone for the evening and was replaced by a different person. Carter couldn’t remember his name. He thought it might be James.
“Evening, Mr. Owens.”
“James, right?”
“Yes, Sir. I could have sworn I saw Ms. Thomas left when my shift started. I thought she might have been with you.”
Carter stopped walking. “You saw Harlem leave? Tonight?”
“Yeah. Almost a couple of hours ago.”
“You must be mistaken.”
“No, Sir. I came on around eleven, and she left out the front doors instead of the garage around eleven-fifteen. That’s why I figured she was with you.”
Carter was confused. Harlem was getting ready for bed when he left. “Did you see her come back?”
“I didn’t. Unless Ms. Thomas came back when I left for a break.”
“Thanks.” Carter thought that was odd as he made his way over to the elevator. Impatiently, he tapped the number to Harlem’s floor on the elevator pad. The doors opened didn’t open fast enough. When they finally did, Carter jammed his hands in his pockets, and he walked inside. Where the hell could she have gone this time of night? Carter had her stocked with a lifetime supply of black-walnut ice-cream. He would literally kill her if she went out to a store this time of night.
The thirteen-second ride up felt like an eternity. Finally, the doors slid apart; Carter stepped out and strode over to the door.
Carter knocked several times. There was no answer. Pissed, he pulled out his spare emergency key and opened the door. The second it opened, Carter was assailed with the smell of gas. He started coughing uncontrollably, and his eyes began to water. He covered his eyes and nose with his jacket and pushed his way inside.
“Harlem!” He called out.
She didn’t respond.
Carter managed to make his way into the kitchen. He immediately recognized that the gas burners had been left on and turned them off.
As he rushed out of the kitchen, Carter could see that Harlem’s purse was still on the table next to the door. She wouldn’t leave without her purse, or would she? After the carjacking, it was possible. Something told Carter to check just to make sure she really wasn’t home.
Carter was having a hard time breathing. Still, he walked into her bedroom. As he looked inside, Carter could see a lump in the bed. Oh, shit!
His heart began to race at an ungodly level as he made a mad dash over to her.
“Harlem!” He yelled. Dammit! She was here.
She didn’t respond.
Carter shook her by the shoulder, but again, she was listless and unresponsive. He sent up a few silent prayers as he felt for a pulse. It was there, but very faint. Carter couldn’t even breathe out a sigh of relief because of the gas. He was beginning to feel light-headed.
Quickly, Carter scooped Harlem up from the bed. As he turned, he spotted their cell phones. His was right next to hers. He grabbed those too and ran out of her condo.
Gently, he laid her down on the ground to dial
