Woman on the Edge(39)
“Why are you limping?” she asks.
“Funny story.”
“Morgan.”
I scratch my neck so hard it burns and take a deep breath. Then I finally spit it out. I tell her about the redhead in the Prius who followed me and tried to kill Ben, Quinn, and me.
“What? You need to call me immediately if you think you’re in danger!” Then Jessica just stares at me, tapping her palm slowly on her thigh.
“Say something, please.”
She sighs. “Is there more?”
I nod. “Quinn’s father, Greg, abandoned her and Nicole, then basically handed his daughter to Ben like he doesn’t give a shit about her. What kind of father does that? Maybe he’s involved.”
She throws her hands in the air. “Maybe he is, but you are not an investigator. You’re a person of interest. And you shouldn’t be doing anything but staying out of Martinez’s way right now. All of this only makes you look guilty of something.”
“Why didn’t you tell Martinez about the break-in and my stolen adoption application?”
“Because if she knows you wanted to adopt a baby, it will look like getting Quinn is your motive.”
My stomach sinks. I tell her everything Ben told me about Donna and Amanda Taylor. And everything we found at Nicole’s.
After I’m through speaking, she clicks her tongue. “Barry can definitely search DMV records to see if a Prius is registered in Donna’s name. We’ll file a police report about the accident on the highway.” She takes her phone out of her coral Prada handbag and taps. “I’ve emailed you the footage at Grand/State that Barry saved so you can take a better look at the people there and see if you spot her. This might actually help us, but for now lie low. And next time, tell me right away before you take matters into your own hands, Morgan. Leave a message if I don’t pick up. We don’t know why your name is on a wall of Post-its. Taking it upon yourself to try to find out only hurts you. You do realize I’m trying to protect you, right? And you’re making it close to impossible.” She catches her own impatience and her voice suddenly softens. “You can trust me, you know. You’re not in this alone.”
But I feel very alone. It’s not like she could protect me last time, with Ryan. I know all Jessica wants is to help me, but no one truly understands how lonely I am, how hard it is to trust anyone after all that’s happened. How hard it is not to have a single friend to call, or to come over and be with me. Who can tell me I couldn’t have known what Ryan was doing because he hid it so well, and I shouldn’t blame myself for not being able to stop him.
She emits a frustrated grumble. “You’re not actually thinking of filing for guardianship, are you?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know. Will you stop representing me if I do?”
“Have you lost your mind? I strongly advise against filing. Morgan, you’re not responsible for raising her child. That’s her family’s job. You’re too focused on saving a baby who already has people to take care of her. That gives you a clear motive for murdering her mother. Don’t you see that?”
I take a pillow from the couch and put it on my lap. “But I didn’t know the baby before yesterday. I didn’t know Nicole had any intention of giving her to me.”
“And how exactly are you going to prove that, Morgan? I’m working on it but coming up dry.” Her fingers fly over the screen on her phone. “I need to get to court, but take a look at that video and call me if you recognize anyone, okay? Martinez made a good point. There’s someone out there who might want Quinn’s money. Be careful who you trust. In the meantime, ice that ankle and stay here. Got it?” She pats my leg, then stands up. “Lock up after I leave.”
We say goodbye at the door, and I do as she said. I realize Jessica is the only person apart from me who’s been in my home since I moved in, besides whoever broke in and stole my adoption application. Tears threaten to burst, but I shake them away and limp to the kitchen for an ice pack.
Then alone on my couch, I take my phone from my purse, exhaling long and loud before viewing the video again. Watching it is excruciating. It’s incredible to me that it’s the same moment I lived through, and yet, viewed from this perspective, it raises doubt about me rather than quells it. I try to look with new eyes, focus instead on what I didn’t see at the time—who was around me and who Nicole was looking at on the platform. The video is grainy and opaque. I see not one person who might be Donna Taylor. What I do see is Nicole going over the edge. And even watching this for the second time, it makes me double over with pain. If I’d only realized what she was about to do.
There are just too many people to spot anyone she might have been scared of. Any redhead who might be watching me. A mother who blamed Nicole for her daughter’s death.
What do I do now? I know I should step back and leave Quinn to be raised by her father or her uncle, leave the system to sort it all out. But Nicole didn’t want her to be with them, and something about that nags at me. And I don’t trust the system anymore.
Life isn’t fair. It’s short, hard to navigate, and full of pitfalls and unforeseen dangers. And the truth of it?
I want a baby.
I want Quinn.
* * *
Blythe & Brown, where Greg works, is about a fifteen-minute drive from my apartment. My ankle is still very sore, but I can limp. I quickly change into a long, blue cotton dress and sneakers, and get in my car before I can change my mind. I haven’t told Jessica what I’m doing, and that makes me a little nervous. But this is something I must do on my own. I’m too impatient to wait for answers, to wait for all the fingers to twist and turn and eventually point at me. Too worried Martinez will find out something about me before I do. I’ve been in the dark about my own life for too long.