Page 132 of Take Your Breath Away

I shook my head. “I want to be sure. There needs to be a conversation.” It was time for a change of subject. “We need to find a lawyer for Tyler.”

“I don’t … I can’t think of anyone.”

“I hired a woman named Nan Sokolow a few years ago when Hardy was harassing me. See if you can get in touch with her.”

“And what are you going to do?” But she knew. “Don’t do this yourself.”

“I have to.”

“I don’t think … I’m not sure I can drive. I’m a total wreck.”

“I’ll drop you.”

She started looking in her purse for something. Seconds later, I heard the jangling of keys. “I’m not sure I locked my car.”

Jayne was reaching for the door handle when I said, “I’ll do it. Where are you parked?” She pointed to the far end of the lot. “Be right back.”

I jumped out of the Explorer and strode off in the direction of her car. As I got closer, I saw that she’d most likely not only left it unlocked, but the driver’s window was down.

When I got back to my car, Jayne said, “What took so long?” She was correct in thinking that I had been gone longer than it should have taken.

“The windows were down,” I said. “Had to get in and turn the key to get them up. Engine didn’t want to turn over at first.”

“Oh,” she said.

I started the Explorer. We hardly said a word to each other on the way. When we got back to our place and were in the driveway, Jayne said, “You really need to clean yourself up.”

I didn’t want to take the time for that, but she was right. I could take a shower and change into some fresh clothes in ten minutes, I was betting.

I did it in nine.

As I was getting ready to head back out again, Jayne met me at the door. “I’m going to drop Norman’s phone back at his place,” I said. “Can I have your cell?”

I figured, given that we were among the last people on the planet with a landline, she could use that to try and reach Nan Sokolow. Jayne got her phone and handed it over. I didn’t have to ask her for her passcode. We used the same one for both our phones.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

She put her arms around me again. “Call me with any news.”

“You, too.”

I went to the car and got in. I put both cell phones in the center console—easy enough to tell one from the other. Norman had a drab brown leather cover on his, and Jayne’s encasement was vivid with a floral design. I grabbed it, wanting to double-check that I could, in fact, get into it, and I did.

I must have sat out there for a few minutes, not realizing how much time had gone by, because finally I heard a rapping at my window and found Jayne standing there, staring at me. Through the glass she said, “What’s going on?”

After I’d set down her phone, keyed the ignition, and powered down the window, I said, “I think I’m in a bit of a daze. Overwhelmed. Shell-shocked, maybe.”

“Come inside. I’ll make us some coffee. Or make you something stronger.”

“No, I’ve got to go.”

She stepped away as I backed onto the street, stood and watched as I drove off. In my rearview mirror, I saw her step into the street and wave. I was halfway down the block when Jayne’s phone rang. The caller ID was blocked.

I picked up.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Carville.” I knew the voice.