The Lost Girl of Astor Street(82)

Sidekick seems unsure. He sits and stares at her.

“Did you need something, Alana? I’m actually getting ready to leave.”

She stands to her full height and aims a bright smile at me. “Are you doing anything fun?”

“Just running an errand with a friend.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Why, exactly, does she care?

I don’t voice the question, but it must be obvious all the same, because Alana rushes on. “I know you’ve been feeling rather blue since the wedding. Nick and I thought it would be swell for the three of us to go have dinner together.” Her smile rises impossibly high. “Someplace nice. My treat.”

“That’s very kind of you.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be with Emma, though. I’m sorry, but I need to go or I’ll be late.”

“Then tomorrow?” Alana asks as she follows me out of my bedroom.

I’m not trying to be rude, but I just can’t think about a dinner with her and Nick right now, when my nerves are so tightly wound about venturing north with Emma. “I don’t know. I think I told Mrs. Barrow that I would watch her kids for her.”

“So Thursday, then? You can’t possibly be busy every night this week.” Alana laughs loudly as she patters down the stairs behind me.

Nick stands in the entryway, flipping through the day’s mail. “What’s so funny?”

“Your sister has quite the social calendar. I told her about our idea of going out to dinner, but it seems like it’ll be impossible with how busy Piper is.”

Nick narrows his eyes at me. “Surely one day this week can work for you.” He holds my gaze a moment before turning back to the letters in his hands.

I can’t get out of this without being outright rude, can I? And perhaps what Nick said a couple nights ago is right, that Alana’s search for Matthew could maybe even help me. And if it turns out to be mutually beneficial, and she does get a great story out of the deal, what is that to me?

I tell myself to smile. “Now that I’ve thought about it, I bet I can make tomorrow night work after all.”

Alana beams. “Marvelous. We can discuss the place later.”

“And . . .” I’m at a dead end with Lydia anyway. What’s the harm in offering this? “Maybe you should bring your notebook, and we could talk about Matthew like you’ve been wanting to. I don’t know how much help I could be, but—” I shrug. “Some help is better than no help, right?”

Alana seems shocked by my change of heart. “Yes, that would be swell. Has he telephoned you?”

“No, nothing like that. And you should know that I believe Matthew is innocent. I don’t want to get mixed up in a story where you make it sound like I think he’s guilty.”

“Of course not. But if not Matthew, who do you think killed her?”

“I don’t know.” The Finnegan name echoes in my head, but I can’t vocalize that, now can I? Especially not to someone who would actually print it. If I hadn’t been the true target to begin with, certainly that would seal the deal. “I need to go, or I’ll be late. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Mariano rang for you, by the way,” Nick calls after me. “I told him you were unavailable.”

I pause at the door, but don’t turn around. “Thank you. I’m taking the Ford.”

My heart thunders in my chest as I close the door behind me and clatter down the steps to where the Ford is parked along the curb. I just won’t think about him yet. I won’t think about how he called Sunday, yesterday, and now today. Or how I think if I see him, I won’t be able to hold so tightly to my doubts.

And I certainly won’t think about how deeply it scares me that if he is lying, I might be too hung up on him to perceive it.




“This is so exciting.” Emma is almost bouncing in the passenger seat. We’ve been parked here about ten minutes, and this is the fifth time she’s expressed her enthusiasm. “I’ve never been in the car with a lady driver. My mother says it’s uncivilized for women to drive. She seems to think it’s a gateway to rebellion. I doubt I’ll ever have my own car.”

“Sure you will. Just not while you live at home.”

“Jeremiah let me practice once on his coupe.” Emma beams at the memory. “I was terrible.”

“I was too. Walter taught me because my brothers were too busy.” I shift my hips to find a position that’s comfortable, which is tricky with Nick’s pocket knife digging into my side.

“It is so nice of you to do this for me.”

“Well, you are paying me. It’s actually the first money I’ve ever—”

“There he is!” Emma flails as she spots Robbie emerging from his apartment building. “And he’s alone. Thank you, God, he’s not secretly married.”

Emma’s enthusiasm has Sidekick turning circles in the backseat. “You know, most men don’t take their wives to work.”

“Oh.” Joy drains from Emma’s face. “I guess you’re right.”

Robbie heads east, away from his automobile. “Looks like we’re going on foot.” I make quick work of looping the leash through Sidekick’s collar. “Ready to do some walking? How are your shoes?”