Page 44

FORTY-THREE

The scrape of footsteps in the hallway sends the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck on end. If someone is out there trying to scare her, she wants to know who it is. She launches herself to the door, flinging it open. She catches only the tail end of a shadow moving across the end of the hall, and the stairwell door opening and quickly slamming shut.

She bolts down the hall and pushes the door open into the stairwell. Breathing heavily, she stands still and listens. Nothing. And then just as she is about to turn back, she hears the echo of shoes somewhere below her. She leans over and looks down into the stairwell. She gasps as she sees the flash of a hand, on a railing several floors down. Alex tucks herself back against the wall. There is a voice finally, clear and deep.

“Sorry, I thought I heard someone. Go on,” Howard Demetri says. She listens for another person’s voice, but nothing. He must be on the phone. She stands as still as she can and listens.

“It’s there. It has to be.” His voice is heavy with worry. “Everyone is so damn incompetent. I’m going to go to the beach house to find it myself.” Francis’s house? Alex’s chest tightens. She tiptoes back to the banister, leaning forward, over the edge, trying to hear better. What could he be trying to find at the beach house? His voice becomes lower; she strains to hear him.

“No one has been there in months. It’ll be easy to get in. I don’t think the police ever had the key. Under a garden gnome. It should still be there. I’ll go tonight,” he says decisively. There is a long pause before he speaks again, his voice a low moan. “Goddamn it, how did it come to this?”

Alex makes the mistake of looking straight down into the endless loop of the banister. The blood rushes out of her arms as she closes her eyes, trying to regain her balance. Then she hears him say, “We both know the knife is still there.”

Before she can react to that last horrifying sentence, a click of dress shoes echoes up the marble stairs. Alex moves as quickly as she can, tiptoeing one floor up to the very top landing. There she presses herself against the wall, shuddering at the sound of the hinges scraping open and shut below her.

When the door closes, Alex is left with an image of Francis collapsed in a puddle of blood and Howard Demetri hovering above her.

Her mind buzzes with the potential of catching him there, the knife that he used on Francis in his hand. Or even better, she could find it first—prove what he did to Francis Keen, trap him with all the evidence she needs. When she bursts back into the hallway, Lucy is passing through clutching an iced coffee.

“What’s wrong, Alex?” she says, her face dropping. “Are you okay?”

“No, I—” Alex glances behind her. She pulls Lucy down the hall and into her office, shutting the door behind them. Alex sinks against the door, still feeling shaky.

“What happened?”

Alex looks at her assistant. “I think Howard killed Francis.”

“What?” Lucy’s face goes pale. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he—”

Alex is trembling. She knows she shouldn’t tell her assistant, but she can’t help it. The words come out anyway. “I think he was trying to shut her up. About an affair he had with one of the girls from the mailroom.”

“Oh God, Alex.” Lucy’s eyes are dark and fearful.

“I just heard him talking about a knife. He is planning on going to get it tonight and hiding the evidence.”

“He can’t do that. We can’t let him.”

“Lucy, did you say you had a car?” Alex asks, an idea forming in her mind.

Lucy nods. “I do, yeah. It’s not nice or anything, but it works.”

“How would you feel about taking a little work trip?”

“Sure. Where?” Lucy asks.

“To Francis Keen’s summer house,” Alex says.

“The place where she died?” Lucy says in nearly a whisper.

Alex nods. She knows she must look absolutely unhinged but she doesn’t care at the moment. All she wants to do is catch Francis Keen’s killer. Lucy returns her gaze, hesitating for only a moment before she gives a little fearful nod back.

“Of course. What do we need to do? When do you want to go?”

“Soon. I just need to do something quickly first,” Alex says. “Can you meet me at my apartment in an hour?”

“Yes, sure, I’ll be there. Just text me the address.”

“Thank you so much. And Lucy, please don’t tell anyone,” Alex says. “It’s important.”

“I promise,” Lucy agrees, her eyes sparkling. “It’s our secret.”