Woman on the Edge(32)
I consider my options, knowing I have none. I just hope he’s not a threat. I hope he’s not the one who Nicole was running from.
He awkwardly grabs his backpack from the ground and hoists it over his shoulder. He looks at me for a beat and then reaches his hand down. I hesitate, then take it. Ben is the lesser of two evils right now. He hauls me to my feet and lets me rest on him, so I can hobble up the driveway and the four steep steps to Nicole’s house. I stare at Quinn, who’s calm again and gazing right back at me. She’s so perfect. So innocent. How could anyone want to hurt her?
Ben opens the door, and I limp in behind him to the foyer, leaning against the ivory wall for support.
I’m immediately bowled over by the sheer size and whiteness of the house. “Wow,” I blurt out.
He nods. “I know.” He sniffs the air. “But it smells rotten in here.”
I detect stale air, and decaying food. Being in Nicole’s home scares me. To the right of the foyer is a magnificent living room, where black silk sheets cover every window.
Why was she living in the dark? What was life like for Nicole here?
He shuts the door, drops his backpack on the floor, and adjusts Quinn so she’s tucked in the crook of his arm. Then he pulls out his phone.
I don’t want Martinez to know I’m here. “Wait. Please. Can we just talk for a minute before you call the police? I think we both have things about Nicole to tell each other, and once the police come, there won’t be a chance to talk.”
His gaze sweeps over me, then he leans against the wall next to a silver deco table. “Can you tell me why you think that car is after you—or … us?”
I exhale a long stream of air. “I don’t know why. And I really am so sorry about your sister. I’m a social worker. When I saw how anxious she was on that subway platform, I wanted to help, but just like with that car tearing down the street, everything happened so fast. I am so, so sorry. I wish I could have stopped her.” I stutter on a sob and pause to get myself together.
He watches while I wipe my tears. “Will you walk me through it? Will you help me understand what happened?” There’s profound pain in his eyes that’s hard to ignore.
I take a deep breath. “So yesterday, I was on my way home from work at the same time I always head out. Your sister was beside me on the platform. She dug her nails in my arm and begged me to take her baby. That’s the first thing she said to me—Take my baby. I was startled, and I pulled away. Then she moved right in front of me, close to the edge. She was looking everywhere, like she was scared of someone. Then she told me not to let anyone hurt Quinn and shoved her in my arms. I looked down and when I lifted my head, Nicole was … The train was in the station.”
He winces, then looks down at the table in front of him. “I saw Nicole a couple of weeks ago, but the house wasn’t quite as bad as it is now. I was concerned with how awful she looked.”
“So you were worried about her?”
He nods but gives no further information.
He glances at my foot, which I’m holding in the air above the marble entryway, so I won’t put pressure on my ankle. Then he shifts Quinn so she’s resting on his shoulder and slides his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s go to the kitchen and get you sitting down,” Ben says.
I don’t know how much time I have before he calls Martinez. I need him to trust me enough to tell me who Amanda is, but I don’t know what else to say to gain his trust.
He leads me to the left of the foyer into a large and airy snow-white space, save for the stainless-steel Viking range and Sub-Zero fridge. Every surface is covered with the detritus of newborn care—bottles, washcloths, cans of formula, even balled-up diapers I can smell from here.
It suddenly occurs to me I shouldn’t be touching anything. I don’t want to leave any indication that I’ve been here.
Ben notices my hesitation. “I’ll tell Martinez I let you in, okay? I’ll tell her everything that just happened. It’s obvious you’re not out to get us. You just saved our lives.”
I look down at my feet. I’m relieved he believes that I’ve done nothing to hurt his sister. He pulls out a tall, white leather kitchen chair, and I gingerly sit down, careful not to bang my throbbing ankle against the chrome base of the sleek marble table.
Ben places Quinn in a vibrating chair in front of another black silk sheet covering what I assume are the doors to the backyard.
Nicole’s home is beautifully decorated but as disheveled and grimy as the distraught, bedraggled woman I met on the platform. I desperately hope there are clues here to prove I wasn’t involved in her downfall.
Quinn’s tiny fists bat at the air. Her cries are so painful to hear. I want to take her away and hold her myself.
“Ben, Nicole said my name. On the platform. She said Morgan, like she knew me. But I swear to you that I’d never seen her before in my life. I didn’t know she was the CEO of Breathe. She seemed scared for Quinn’s life.”
Ben sits next to me and kneads the back of his neck. “So she knew you, but you don’t know her? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I’m racking my brain trying to figure out what the connection is. Did she make a donation to the shelter I work for—worked at before—or is she connected to my husband? I’m sure Martinez already told you about him. I must sound like a complete idiot, but I was in the dark about my husband, too. The fraud part, I mean.”