The Lost Girl of Astor Street(84)

“Until you’ve gone? But—”

“Just trust me.”

Emma blinks at me several times, looks down the sidewalk where Robbie will soon come into view, and then dashes into the drugstore in her impractical shoes.

I suck in a breath, breathe a prayer, and limp my way back the direction I came. Do I have enough time to conjure real tears? I should practice fake crying. That would be a handy skill in a pinch.

“Miss Sail? Are you all right?”

I look around, as if I can’t fathom who would be talking to me. “Oh, Mr. Thomas. Thank heavens.” I fall heavily against him and feel him brace.

He wears a gun. Fear lights up every nerve in my body.

“What happened to you?” Robbie looks around. “Are you out here alone?”

The alarm on his face makes me question the wisdom of leaving Emma on this end of town on her own. With no dog or knife.

I can’t think about it now. I have a cover story to concoct. “I was with a couple of girlfriends, but they met these guys and . . . Oh, I just didn’t like the look of them at all, but my friends wouldn’t listen to me.” I sniffle and choke out a sob. “I’ve been trying to find the closest L station, but then I twisted my ankle, and I don’t know my way around here at all.” I put on the face I would use to ask Father or Tim a favor. “Can you please help me, Mr. Thomas?”

“Of course.” Robbie tucks his arm around my waist to support my weight. “Emma wasn’t with you, was she?”

“Emma would never do anything like that. In fact, she told me I shouldn’t go out with those girls. I should have listened to her.”

“My apartment is just a block or so away. Can you walk that far?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Instead of taking the train, someone should come pick you up. Who could you call?”

Time to get the attention off me. “Oh, you have your briefcase! I’m dreadfully sorry. I’m causing so much trouble for you.”

His eyes are surprisingly kind. “It’s no trouble at all, Miss Sail.”

“But you were on your way to work, weren’t you?”

After a pause, “Yes.”

“Oh no.” I stop walking. “You can’t let me be the reason you’re late to work. Please, Mr. Thomas, just point me in the direction of the nearest train station. I’ll be fine.”

“Emma would skin me alive if she heard I’d done that to her closest friend. Come on, now. No more arguing.”

It takes a surprising amount of energy to pretend to limp, and by the time we arrive at Robbie’s apartment building, my blue cotton dress sticks to me. I sneak a glance behind me as we go through the dingy double doors of the apartment building, but Emma is nowhere to be seen. She’s going to be fine, right? It’s a short walk back to the car, and I’ll rejoin her in less than a half hour, I’m sure.

But I can’t help seeing Lydia in my mind’s eye, waving to me from her gate for the last time.

“I think I have a bandage from when I sprained my wrist.” Robbie slides back the grate on the elevator door and helps me in. “We could wrap that around your ankle, and you could call for someone to come pick you up.”

Sidekick nuzzles close to my leg and whimpers as the elevator gets going. I rub his ears. “It’s okay, boy.”

Robbie grins down at him. “How old is he?”

“I don’t know, actually. I’ve just had him a month or so.”

Robbie holds out his hand, but Sidekick only cowers. “He has a sweet temperament.”

“He does. But I think he would turn on a man if I gave the word.”

“That’s a good trait in a dog, I say.” Robbie releases the operating button as the elevator lines up with the third floor. He pulls aside the grate, then pushes up the sliding door and helps me off.

As soon as Robbie opens his apartment door, I see that Emma can put to rest her fears of him being married. It’s a studio apartment with dull white walls, a single bed, and not a feminine touch in sight. I exhale a breath of relief.

“Here, Miss Sail.” Robbie pulls out a beat-up kitchen chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you. And you can call me Piper.”

“I’ll get that bandage for you.”

As Robbie rummages around the bathroom, I soak in as many details of the room as I can. If only it were possible to take photographs with your mind. Of course, what would I photograph? There are no papers lying about—not even a pile of mail—no family pictures, and no mementos to suggest past vacations or even a favorite sports team. The place doesn’t even have a scent to it. It’s all very . . . stark. Maybe most bachelors have sparse apartments? I’ve never been in one before.

Or perhaps it’s in Robbie’s best interest to keep his apartment void of personality. Easy to pack up and make a clean getaway.

“Who can I telephone for you, Miss Sail?” Robbie asks as he reenters the room with a bandage in hand.

“I think I can make it to the station okay once we get my ankle wrapped.”

Robbie gives me a skeptical look. “Miss Sail—”

“Piper.”

“Piper, I can’t in good conscience load you on a train by yourself in this condition. Not in this neighborhood. And as much as I would enjoy taking you back downtown, I can’t afford the time.”