Page 103
Story: The Girl in the Castle
“Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you,” Max mutters.
“Hi, Max,” Jordan says. “We’re going to showSpace Jamin the lounge this afternoon.”
Max gives him the finger.
“See ya later, buddy,” Jordan says, his voice falsely bright.
Could he ask Amy to call Fillan House? Dr. Nicholas? They’dwant to help. But they wouldn’t make the call if they found out that Dr. Ager had told him to drop it.
What had the woman at Fillan said?Doctors, lawyers—police, if necessary.
So Jordan pulls out his phone and googles the number for the Midtown North precinct.
CHAPTER 98
I woke in an unfamiliar bed. I was groggy. Confused.
Naked.
Then the night came back to me in a rush, and I remembered everything so clearly I could feel it all over again: the baron’s hands tracing their way up my thigh, the baron’s lips at my neck, tickling their way down my ribs, my stomach …
My entire body tingled with pleasure. I stretched luxuriously. Rolled over, reaching out for Baron Joachim.
But he was gone, and I was alone.
I sat up and pushed aside the heavy curtains. “Hello?” I called.
The room was dark and cold. The fire in the hearth had gone out. I wanted to bury myself under the covers and go back to sleep, but I felt an uneasy prickle on the back of my neck.
Where had the baron gone? Why hadn’t he woken me?
I got up, grabbing my shift from the floor where it’d fallen and slipping it on. I was shivering, but there was no other dress, no cloak.
I need to find my way back to my room—back to Margery. I hurried to the door. I pulled on the handle.
It was locked.
CHAPTER 99
“Kid,” Officer Dunthorpe says, his voice flickering in and out over the bad connection, “are you nuts? I’m not your secretary, or your messenger boy, or whatever it is you seem to think I am.”
Jordan methodically shreds a paper napkin that reads NICK’S BEST BURGER IN NYC. The napkin lies—it’s not the best burger at all. It’s only the cheapest. Outside the diner, snow has begun to fall. “I understand this is an unusual request, officer,” he says.
“You’re damn right it is,” Dunthorpe practically yells into the phone.
Jordan picks up another napkin and rips it nervously in two. “I wouldn’t ask for your help if I didn’t need it. IfHannahdidn’t need it. If you called Fillan House, they’d give you the records. All you’d have to do is ask.”
Dunthorpe barks out a laugh. “It doesn’t work that way, kid. There’s no crime I’m investigating here, understand? Until that girl’s back out on the street in my precinct, she’s absolutely none of my business.”
“But I’m afraid shewillbe back out there,” Jordan says.
“Well, when I see her, I’ll be sure to say hello.”
The phone goes dead.
“I guess that didn’t go the way you hoped it would,” Ellie says.She’s sitting in the booth across from him, sipping a Diet Coke and picking at the french fries he’d ordered.
“No, it didn’t.”
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