The Disappearing Act(65)

After Joanne collected Emily’s stuff Emily would have realized I still hadn’t returned her rental document. I’d accidentally locked it in my car. So she had to come back again.

“Has this got something to do with the woman who lost her wallet?” Lucy asks, placing the chunky cream receiver back into its cradle.

“Yeah, I think it might,” I reply carefully. “I hate to put you in this position, Lucy, but could you let me try to speak to Michelle before we report this? I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet but I am pretty sure I’m missing something very important here.”

Lucy weighs my request, concern creasing her brow, but I sense she’s aware that calling the police means admitting she let someone into my apartment without checking their ID properly, email or no email. Finally she nods, returns the monitor screens to their live feeds, and swivels her chair back to me.

“Well, the footage is there, if we need it. It gets wiped after a month but you’re fine until then.”

“Thank you, Lucy, I really appreciate this. I need to speak to her before I drag in the police.”

She shifts in her chair. “I know it’s not my place to say this,” she says carefully, “but I really think you should just call the cops. I don’t know if she’s your friend or something but she’s been here a lot and she’s obviously very convincing when she needs to be.”

I take in her concern. It must seem crazy from Lucy’s perspective for me not to report this, but that note left for me this morning wasn’t left by whoever took Emily, it was left by Emily herself.

BE VERY CAREFUL WHAT YOU DO NEXT



I had assumed it was a threat, but what if it was just a warning? She must know by now that I’ve heard the recording. Could she be warning me off reporting her disappearance, her rape, in case whoever she is hiding from right now comes for me next? She knows firsthand how dangerous those men are. Perhaps in her own strange way, Emily is trying to protect me.

Marla had said as much when I contacted her too. She’d told me to let this go, that while I might think I was helping Emily I really wasn’t. But I don’t know how I can explain that to Lucy.

“I hear what you’re saying,” I explain, “but it’s very delicate. I don’t know yet, but I think the woman in the tape is in some kind of trouble. I know it sounds crazy but I think she might be hiding from someone. I don’t want to make her situation worse. Or mine.” Her face slackens. I definitely haven’t eased her concern. “Could you just let me see that email she sent again?” I ask.

She looks momentarily surprised by the request but rises nonetheless and leads me back out to the lobby reception.

I jot down the cell number written in the email and thank Lucy once more.

“Oh, and it goes without saying, please don’t let her back up to my apartment,” I say firmly. “Don’t let anyone upstairs for me anymore, at all…no matter what they say. And could you make a note on the system for the daytime reception team too? Oh, and can I get a new door code for tonight?”

“Of course. Not a problem,” she replies. “Again, I am so sorry about all of this. Even with the email I should have checked her ID first. I should have confirmed with you in person.”

“It’s fine, Lucy, seriously. I mean how could you possibly have known?”

I head upstairs with one clear thought in my head: The sooner I get out of this place the better.





28


    It’s a Test


MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15

My alarm blasts early and I groan awake.

I did not sleep well. I didn’t even turn out the lights until well past one a.m. and then only after barricading the front door with an armchair with one of the bedside tables piled high on top. It wouldn’t have stopped Emily, or anyone else, from getting in—if they somehow managed to get past the now impeccably vigilant Lucy—but it would have certainly slowed them down and definitely woken me up in the process.

I roll out of the tangle of sheets and head, half dead, to the warm cascade of the shower, letting it slowly bring me back to life.

I’d stayed up late, instinctively going through all of my belongings and double-checking my passport, trying to think of any other reason that could explain why Emily took my key on Wednesday. But nothing was missing. I checked the phone number I took from her email, and it matched Emily’s cell number. I texted and I emailed her on the email address I got from her laptop:

From: Eliot, Mia

Sent: Sunday, February 14, 2021 12:57 AM

To: “Emily Bryant” <[email protected]>

Subject:

I know you were in my apartment.

And I know what happened on New Year’s Eve.

I am so so sorry about what happened to you but I don’t understand why you stole from me, or why you made Joanne come here, or why you repeatedly broke into my apartment. What is going on? Are you hiding from someone?

I haven’t contacted the police yet but if I don’t get some kind of explanation—and I know you can read this—I’m reporting it all.



After my shower I slip into the clothes I picked out for the screen test. I know I’ll be in full costume and makeup all day but I want to look good when I arrive at the studio. I leave my skin fresh and makeup-free, though. I pull my hair back into a slick ponytail and I’m ready.