Have You Seen Me?(61)

“I was able to convince someone there to check your key card history for me. You were on the premises from around nine P.M. to six A.M.”

I don’t like the idea of someone being so indiscreet, even though it’s of value to me in this case. But that’s the least of what bothers me. The facility doesn’t have anything like sleeping pods on the premises, so the revelation from Mulroney means that if I slept part of the time, I must have done it sprawled across my desk or even on the floor.

At least I was out of harm’s way.

“But not Wednesday night?”

“No, your key card wasn’t used again during the period we’re looking into. But we have a bigger chunk of info to work with now. You’re definitely going in there tomorrow?”

“I’ll make a point to go. First thing in the morning.”

“Can you take a good look around your office? See if you find any receipts, notes, anything that offers a clue.”

“Okay. . . . But what about Wednesday night?” I ask again. I know my tone sounds almost peevish, but I’m desperate to know. “Is it possible I slept on the street that night—or on a park bench or something? My coat reeked.”

“I’m still following the thread to Wednesday night. It’s going to take a little more time, but we’ll figure it out. By the way, I should have asked you earlier to download your credit card statement. Sometimes charges take a few days to post and I want to see if there are any charges besides that café on Seventh Street.”

“Gosh, I never thought of that.”

Mulroney chuckles. “That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks.”

I find myself smiling, something I’ve barely done lately.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” I ask.

“Just be patient. I hope to have more information for you tomorrow morning. One last thing: did you find any references to the Forty-Second Street area in your emails?”

“I looked, but there was nothing.”

“Got it. Let’s talk tomorrow once you’ve had a chance to check your office. I’ll be on my cell all day.”

“Okay . . . Thanks.”

“Was there something else?” He’s picked up the hesitancy in my tone.

“No. At least nothing to do with the case.”

“Tell me. All I’m doing is driving to an appointment.”

I find myself blurting out a choppy recap of tonight’s incident.

“I’m glad you looped me in. Your gut says it was definitely a shove?”

“Yes. I’d had a sense, too, of someone watching me. And . . .”

Without having really planned to, I also tell him briefly about Jaycee Long, the case being reopened, and the fear I’d expressed to Damien: that someone might see me as a target.

I hear Mulroney sigh. “It’s possible there’s a connection. The girl’s killer could have tracked you down. But there’s something else I need you to be aware of. There’s a small chance that the shove tonight could be related to an event that happened during the time you were missing. I’m thinking of those tissues.”

I’ve been so busy thinking this had something to do with Audrey Long and Frank Wargo, I hadn’t even gone there.

“You mean I was a witness to a crime?”

“Yeah. Maybe one big enough to traumatize you, and one someone doesn’t want any witnesses to.”

My heart freezes.

“So that would mean I’m definitely in danger.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The person who pushed you is probably your basic New York City weirdo. But I don’t like coincidences, so it’s important to stay alert. Okay?”

“Okay.”

For a few minutes after we sign off, I sit frozen on the edge of the bed. My heart’s finally beating again, but fast and loud. Am I really in danger? Have I put Hugh in danger? I have to do what Mulroney advises. Be alert. But what exactly does that entail?

Finally, I propel myself off the bed and into the alcove, where I grab my laptop from my desk. I log into my credit card account and download the statement.

To my surprise, there is another charge. On Wednesday, at a place called Pairings. There’s no way of telling from the statement what time I was there, though if I ate lunch at Eastside Eats, it probably would have been later. I type the name into a new browser window. It’s a restaurant. On East Fifth Street. So I was still in the East Village.

I text Mulroney the update and hurry to the great room, where I grab the pad I’ve been using to write my timeline. Two more pieces to add to the puzzle.

MONDAY

evening: dinner, TV, argument

TUESDAY

7:00: still in bed

9:00-ish: took call from Dr. Erling

9:00–9:17: sent emails

9:30: hung out at café

11:00-ish: left for 42nd Street

Before 3:00: possibly witnessed someone get injured???; lost phone

3:00–3:30-ish: called WorkSpace

9:00–6:00 A.M.: spent night at WorkSpace

WEDNESDAY

Noon-ish: bought food at Eastside Eats, East 7th St.

Afternoon: walked near Tompkins Square Park

Maybe evening: ate at Pairings

THURSDAY

8:05: arrived at Greenbacks

Finished, I flop back onto the couch and think for a second. Was that charge really posted late or did Hugh decide not to share it with me for some reason? It can’t be the latter. There’d be no reason for Hugh to lie.