Like a Sister(18)

She responded. Sorry!!!! Avoiding messages. Even canceled my event tonight. Been trying to see my doctor all day. Finally reached him!!!

I again couldn’t help but contrast someone else’s reaction to my own.

Me: Don’t want to bug you but really need to chat.

She responded, Stop by anytime.

I thought of Aunt E’s dinner plans. Tonight okay?

Another quick response. I’ll be here.

She sent her addy in Tribeca and one final message. Love you, Lena!!!

We’d spent a lot of time together back when we both saw Desiree on a regular basis, but when I’d stopped speaking to Desiree, I’d inadvertently stopped speaking to Zarah as well. But still, I liked her.

Love you too, Z.

The door to the hotel suite opened. Finally.

Green stood there, surprised to see me still in the hall. I scrambled up or at least tried to. I’d been sitting so long my legs were asleep. Erin stood behind him, still dripping tears. They’d let her put on some clothes but not makeup. It would have been ruined anyway.

“All done?” I sounded hopeful. They had been in there so long they had to have questioned Erin about last night. I wondered what she’d told them.

He gave me what I’m sure he thought was a reassuring smile. “Not yet,” he said, and I deflated. “I just finished speaking with Ms. Ambrose, but Zizza still needs to search the suite.” Green glanced down the hall. “We need to check the safe, and the girl downstairs said she was on her way ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sure Zizza can’t wait,” I said. Then, “I might be able to help.”

He eyed me warily, like he knew I was just desperate to get inside. And I was, but I also really could help. “I know the code.”

Green made me wait a full thirty seconds before he let me in.

This time I was actually able to survey the suite’s living room. The interior decorator had gone with a less-is-more approach, though someone had done their damnedest to ruin the aesthetic. Stuff was everywhere. Clothes. Shoes. Cups. No food, though. No drugs either. As much as I wanted to blame it on Zizza’s searching, I couldn’t. Desiree had always treated her room like a pigsty. A side effect of growing up with a housekeeper. Meanwhile my mom had taught me to scrub a bath like it was a hard drive.

“It’s in the bedroom closet.”

Green was already heading over.

Erin immediately followed, leaving me to take up the rear. She kept glancing back at me, like an unsure eight-year-old encountering Santa Claus. I realized that just like I knew her, she knew me. That she’d probably heard Desiree talk about me. I could only imagine what was said.

Zizza was already going through the closet, holding up a little black dress like he was trying to decide if he needed a bigger size.

“Good news,” Green said. “She knows the code.”

Zizza took a step back and looked at Erin. “Great.”

“He meant me,” I said. “I’m the one who knows Desiree’s code.”

At least I thought I did.

Desiree had told me her phone code about three years ago when she was too drunk to make out anything except the Lemon Drop in front of her. I’d had to read texts to her like I was Siri. She later told me she’d used the same numeric code for everything. Identity thieves be damned. It wasn’t the only way she’d lived dangerously.

I leaned forward and said a little prayer. Please let this work.

It was followed by another. And please don’t let there be anything illegal in here. Like coke, weed, ecstasy, or any combination of the three. Or heroin. Definitely don’t let there be a needle. Don’t prove them right, Desiree. That you were just a poor little rich girl with too much time and money.

I quickly adopted it as a mantra. Singing it in my head as I typed in each number.





1


No coke.





1


No X.





1


No heroin.





0


No needles.





9


No coke.





1


No X.

I rushed through two more mantras before I pressed the ENT button. It buzzed, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

My sister still used my birthday as her passcode.

It surprised me how reassured I felt. My birthday. Not her boyfriend’s. Not Mel’s. And definitely not Erin’s. I opened the safe door. We all looked to see what was inside, what Desiree had felt was important enough to lock up.

Nothing.

God definitely had a sense of humor. So did Desiree.

Ten minutes later, Green and Zizza were gone, leaving business cards and more false promises that they were exploring every avenue and would keep us updated. It made me think Erin hadn’t told them anything new.

She’d stayed behind, offering to “help” me clean, which essentially meant getting snot all over Desiree’s clothes as she attempted to pack them up. Desiree would’ve flipped and demanded Erin pay her dry cleaning. I just let her do it. Neither of us said anything at first, just coexisted like a pair of two-year-olds who hadn’t mastered the art of playing with others yet.

As I continued clearing off the night table, I went over the questions I wanted to ask, deciding to start with Alfie. I turned to see her examining me from my Jordans on up to my ironic shirt. I hadn’t changed since this morning. Hadn’t thought to. But now I felt self-conscious.