Woman on the Edge(43)

“Yes,” I say. “I will. I promise.”

My hands still and I finally get the key in the ignition. I’m suddenly filled with despair. I feel like an idiot chasing down impossible leads and trying to fit pieces together in a puzzle beyond my comprehension. For once, I follow Jessica’s advice and keep my promise to her.

No one follows me home, and for that I’m grateful. In my apartment, I clean and disinfect my leg, change into black leggings and a hot pink T-shirt, order a greasy burger and fries, and eat it on the couch, the blinds drawn. My ankle and shin throb. I know I shouldn’t, but I go online and scroll through the staff list at Blythe & Brown until I find the photo of the woman in the Prius. Melissa Jenkins. Greg’s assistant. She’s young, maybe mid-to-late twenties, with shoulder-length, wavy red hair. She’s only been at the company for three months.

From the articles I read about Nicole, it seems that until Quinn was born, she was a strong, powerful woman in control. Could Melissa’s recent hiring have contributed to her downfall? I’m too bone-weary to do any more searching or look at the video from Grand/State again, so I lie on my couch. It’s only 7:00 p.m., but all I want to do is sleep.

A noise wakes me up. I shoot up on the couch and yell at the pain in my ankle and leg. It’s pitch-black, and I scramble for my phone. It’s 3:00 a.m. I was out for eight hours.

My eyes adjust to the darkness. Gingerly, I stand up, flicking on the hall light.

A manila envelope has been pushed under my door. It lies on the floor. There’s no address or postmarks. I look through the peephole on the door, but the hallway outside is empty. I pick up the envelope and bring it back to the couch. I’m afraid to look inside.

I gather my courage and pull out a sheaf of papers. It’s the adoption application that was stolen from my desk drawer. Scrawled in red pen on the bottom of the last stapled page is a message.

Stay away from Quinn. You can’t keep her safe.



Paralyzed, I drop the envelope. I pull the door open and scan the hallway outside, but it’s too late. Whoever dropped this off is gone. I go back inside, locking the door behind me. I keep myself so still, moving only my eyes around the room.

“There’s no one here,” I whisper, reminding myself. “I’m safe.”

My phone rings. I slide my eyes to the screen. It’s Ben. My hand is shaking so much I almost miss the call.

“What’s wrong?” I ask the second it connects.

“You need to come over right now. Quinn’s in trouble.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO NICOLE




Before

“Nic, open this door, or I will break it down! I might be small, but you know how mighty I am!” Tessa yelled through the mail slot.

At any other time in her life, Nicole would have laughed. Now she almost bawled with relief. Tessa would take care of them.

She grasped the arm of the couch and heaved herself up, dropping her chin to her chest until the wooziness passed. She lifted Quinn from the vibrating chair, her arms aching. She couldn’t carry her daughter everywhere, even in the Moby. Nicole barely had the energy to make it up the stairs at all. She’d draped black silk sheets over all the first-floor windows, so her house felt as dark as she did inside.

It was July thirtieth. She was due back at Breathe tomorrow.

She opened the door.

“Thank you.” Tessa frowned when she saw Nicole. “You’re white as a sheet.”

Nicole nodded. “I don’t feel well.”

Tessa walked past her and into the kitchen. Nicole followed as her friend wordlessly picked up the dirty dishes on the counter, put them in the dishwasher, then ran it. She took milk, a loaf of bread, and some apples and oranges out of her bag. When she opened the fridge, her head reeled back.

“Nic, when did you last eat? I’ve been calling and texting for days. I would have brought more groceries.” She sniffed at the milk and immediately poured it out into the sink. The sour stench filled the room.

Nicole didn’t know when she’d last ordered groceries for herself. She kept forgetting to eat, and most of the time she wasn’t hungry. All she cared about was making sure Quinn was healthy. The baby’s chubby legs kicked at the air, making Nicole smile. Her daughter was her only source of happiness.

Tessa dropped some bread into the toaster. From her Breathe tote she brought out two packs of organic diapers, and a bouquet of gorgeous yellow roses that she placed in an empty vase and filled with water.

She walked over to Nicole and gently brushed her cheek, then wiped the corner of her mouth. “Have you been keeping hydrated? You need to.”

Nicole touched her finger to her sore lips. “I try to eat, to drink, but nothing tastes good. I feed Quinn, though. She looks good, right? Healthy? I can’t believe she’s almost six weeks old.”

Would her daughter make it to six months? Six years like Amanda never could?

Tessa reached out and tickled Quinn’s tummy, making the baby’s eyes twinkle with joy. “She looks wonderful. But you don’t. Did you finally speak to Lucinda?”

I’m seeing things, Nicole wished she could say. Things are appearing and disappearing, and I don’t know how. Instead she said, “I haven’t talked to anyone but you, and Ben when he was here.”

Tessa wrinkled her pert nose. Then she took Quinn from Nicole’s arms and put her in the vibrating chair. “Just leave her there for a minute so you can really listen.”