Page 72 of Missing White Woman

But I’d already hung up. At least I knew where my Kenneth Cole was. I made it two steps before I went back to my phone. This time I turned it off.

I didn’t fold shit, just grabbed things from where I’d randomly left them and threw them all into the bag. Then I flashed on the people who’d gathered outside Little Street and Caven Point. Police tape and steel barriers had been the only things stopping them from getting closer. They’d obviously found me, but there would be no police tape or barriers downstairs. Nothing to stop them or their cell phone cameras. I couldn’t hang up on a hotel lobby.

Hands still shaking, I reached for a face mask, then went back into my bag to find the sunglasses I’d forgotten I’d even brought with me. I put them both on. It wasn’t until I stared at myself in the mirror that I remembered the Ty “sighting” in Boston. It didn’t matter if I covered up my facial features. They were just looking for skin tone. It didn’t even matter if it wasn’t remotely close to my color.

There was probably some poor Black woman mistakenly being told she deserved to rot in hell at this very moment.

It took me five whole minutes to open the hotel-room door. No one waited for me. I sprinted down the hallway, my bag doing its best to keep up behind me as my ASICS made only brief contact with the carpet. The elevator came quick, even though I was the only person on the planet who wanted it to take its time. Thank God it was empty. I’d made it this far. I just had one more thing to deal with.

The lobby.

And that’s where my luck ran out. There was just a handful of people there but more than I’d seen since I’d checked in. Most of them were too old to be internet sleuths. But there was also a family, two of them teenagers. Both looking at their phones. No doubt scrolling TikTok or Twitter or Instagram. Or somehow all three at the same time.

I stopped short when I saw them, then glanced out the front door. The Tesla was double-parked. I wanted to sprint. Instead, I forced myself to walk. Cool. Calm. Collected. I made it to the door before the voice came behind me.

“Have a nice day, Ms. Wright.”

I glanced back at the front attendant, only to find both the teens staring. I didn’t say a word. Didn’t stop moving. Just left and got into Adore’s car, throwing the Kenneth Cole in the back.

“Billie?” I said.

“Of course.”

“Someone called my room. Several someones.”

Adore didn’t respond at first, just pulled out into traffic. “I’m sure we can call and check you out,” she said. “You can stay with me.”

“I need to go home.”

Adore glanced at me. “You don’t think they’re calling there too? Don’t have your address already?”

I thought of my mom. Prayed they hadn’t reached her. Though if anyone could give as good as she got, it was Beverly Anna Wright.

“How’d they find me?” I was afraid to check for myself.

“Billie mentioned you were staying in a hotel. Doubt she even knew which one.”

“So they called them all.” I leaned my head back. “I need a new phone number too.”

“You can probably change it on your provider’s app.”

“That would require me to turn it back on.”

“Online then.”

Both options sounded like a pain in the ass. “What did she say about me?” I said.

“A bunch of things we can sue her for.”

That didn’t make me feel better.

“She showed your mug shot,” Adore finally said. “Basically implied since you were a criminal you had to have at least helped Ty kill Janelle, if not done it yourself. She also said the police hauled you in for questioning. Claims there’s some photo.”

Ralph.

The Uber driver was the only one who knew where I was staying. The only one who saw the screen saver with Ty on it.

And now it was all out there. I’d spent the last twelve years lying low. Not causing any drama. Doing everything I could to avoid my past. Because I didn’t want anyone to use it against me. To judge me. Only to end up here, right back where I had been at twenty-one.