One of Those Faces (83)

Yes. You need to sleep.

I opened my hand and popped the pills into my mouth.





CHAPTER FORTY


My eyes whipped open, sending a jolt of pain through my temple. I raised a hand to my forehead and gasped as I tried to massage the headache. It was completely dark outside. I rolled onto my side and picked up my phone from the floor, ignoring the missed-call and text notifications.

It was 9:08 p.m. Had I slept for ten hours?

The phone buzzed in my hands. My eyes struggled to focus again on the screen, but I managed to accept the call. “Hello?” My mouth was chalky and rough. That chemical, plastic taste was still on my tongue.

“Thank god,” Danny exclaimed on the other end. “Where are you? I’ve called you, like, fifteen times.”

I pushed the hair back from my face and sat up. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

He took a deep breath. “I was freaking out when you didn’t answer. I don’t even know where you live. Are you okay staying there?”

I glanced around the room and immediately wished I were back in my dreamless sleep.

“I think you should come back and stay with me, only until you can figure out your next move,” he said in my silence. “What happened there is . . . well, it can’t be good for you to stay there alone.”

“Yeah,” I answered.

He sighed. “Is Iann there with you?”

“No,” I answered, quickly. “Sorry, I’m still kind of out of it.”

“Okay.” He sounded relieved. “So, are you coming over?”

I looked down at the floor, hoping to see a couple of orange paws emerge or a tail twitching. “Are you sure?” A sob lodged in my throat, and I swallowed it back down. My eyes drifted to the upper corner of the ceiling, where the fire alarm dangled.

“More than I’ve ever been sure of anything . . . except that the Cubs will never win the World Series again.”

I rubbed my swollen eyes. “Wow, you’re that sure, huh?”

“Yep, it was a fluke,” he said, dryly. “It’ll never happen again.”

I stood up off the bed and grabbed the pill bottle, then shoved it into my bag. “Those are fighting words around here.”

He laughed. “Are they, though? I feel like everyone secretly knows.”

“You’re not on the street, are you?” I straightened up and surveyed the apartment. Everything else I needed right away was at Iann’s place.

“No, why?”

“Good, just keep those opinions to yourself when you’re in public, or move to Wisconsin.” I peeled the clear tape off a cardboard box and rummaged through the clothing inside.

He snickered. “That’s good advice. Wait, so you’re coming over, right?”

“Only if I sleep on the floor tonight and you take the bed.”

He scoffed. “Absolutely not. What are your other demands?”

“Danny, I’m serious.” I set a clean hoodie out on the bed before digging through the remainder for another top. “I don’t feel comfortable upsetting your routine like this. I already feel bad enough about last night.”

“Why?”

“I insist you take the bed.”

He hesitated. “Okay, fine. Text me your address—I’ll give you a ride.”

“No, I’ll take the train.”

“It’s already late, and I enjoy driving. Just humor me, okay?”

I sighed. “Okay. I’ll text it to you now.”

“Great, see you in a bit.”

I ended the call and quickly texted the address before setting my phone on the bed and replacing my two-day-old sweater with the gray hoodie. I folded a clean sweater and jeans and put them into my bag, my fingers grazing over the pill bottle before freezing. I stared down at the label again. I dropped my bag to the floor and picked up my phone. I pulled up my texts with Erin. There were new messages but sent from my phone to her.

(4:05 p.m.): I’m sorry.

(4:06 p.m.): About the pills.

My heart sped up. I didn’t remember sending these. I called her phone, pacing along the floor. It didn’t ring.

“This is Erin! Leave a message or text me.”

I hung up. Her phone was dead now. Maybe just turned off.

I started at the knock on my door. I strode to the peephole and unlocked it. “That was fast,” I said.

Danny’s eyes widened as he took in the hellscape of my apartment. “Oh, Harper,” he said, stepping in beside me after I opened the door. “This is where you’ve been living all these years?” He stared at the mismatched, warped laminate where the blood from the body had seeped through. I suspected the crime scene cleaning crew had replaced it but hadn’t tacked it down properly.

My face reddened. “Believe it or not, it was more livable before the murder.” That look of disdain on his face cut me. Had he always secretly looked down on me like that?

He stiffened before turning to me. He opened his mouth and then quickly closed it again. It was rare for him not to have a witty response on the tip of his tongue, unless he intentionally held back. “Are you ready to go?” he asked after a moment.

I grabbed my bag. “Yeah.”

I followed him out the door, and he waited behind me as I locked it. Our eyes met briefly before we started down the stairs, and I could tell he was working something out in his mind. We silently got into his SUV. He hesitated behind the wheel before starting the engine.