Page 35 of The Bridesmaid

The doors slide open. I whirl around, trying desperately to think of a reason why I might be traveling up and down in the elevatorcar, with an alarm blinking, and a fireman’s key jammed in the access panel.

Fitzwilliam’s strained face appears in the door.

‘Holly,’ he says, glancing over his shoulder and stepping neatly inside. ‘Ortiz couldn’t stop Georgia getting in. Did she call security?’

‘No. She mistook me for a replacement bridesmaid.’

He laughs. ‘Wait. You’re serious.’

‘Is that so hard to believe?’

His mouth opens and shuts. I guess his preppy good manners don’t have a suggested answer for this scenario.

‘Did you change your clothes?’ I suddenly realize he’s no longer in police uniform. Fitzwilliam wears a navy Ralph Lauren T-shirt with black pants.

‘I took off the hat, shirt and gun-belt,’ he explains.

‘You wear designer shirts under your police uniform?’

‘Adrianna Kensington is in the lobby,’ he says. ‘We need to be fast.’

‘The elevator doors won’t shut in the lobby without a keycard,’ I tell him, processing this new side to Fitzwilliam. I never had him down as a rule-breaker.

He holds one up. ‘Turns out the receptionist wants to be a member of my country club.’

Fitzwilliam flashes the card to close the door, then holds a finger to the alarm for a few seconds.

‘These alarms operate on an override code,’ he adds. ‘This should hold the doors for a few minutes.’

He looks at the key, jammed in the glowing circle.

‘Georgia was wearing Simone’s ring,’ I tell him.

His eyes widen. ‘OK. That’s … odd. We’ll let Ortiz know.’

He frowns for a moment, then lifts his hand and turns the key.

‘How did you …?’

‘I have a way with keys,’ he says.

‘And humility.’

The panel falls open. Inside, wedged to one side of the controls, is a cream envelope.

For a few seconds, we both stare.

Fitzwilliam reaches for it, but I stop him.

‘Fingerprints,’ I say, leaning to take the envelope carefully from the void, using my lacy bell sleeve.

The envelope is made of heavy paper, and stamped with the Kensington crest. It bulges tantalizingly like there’s something inside.

There’s writing on the front, in Simone’s looping script:

Holly. If you’re reading this, I didn’t make it. Unmask Trinity. Simone xx

My heart catches.