Have You Seen Me?(71)

“Okay, give me a minute while I skim the notes again.”

In my mind’s eye I see him leaning forward, squinting at his computer screen. Suddenly I’m aware of noises coming from the rest of apartment—the murmur of Hugh’s voice as he pays the delivery guy, the crinkle of a paper bag. My stomach knots as I’m torn back to my ugly discovery from five minutes ago. What am I going to do about Hugh?

Williams has asked me another question.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” I say.

“Did Kurt mention the letters G.C. to you? Do you know someone with these initials?”

“G.C.? No, why?”

“He added them with a question mark toward the end of his notes.”

“Um, my best friend’s name is Gabby Kane, but she spells it with a K, not a C.”

“Okay, if anything comes to you, will you let me know right away?”

“Of course. Is that the last thing in his notes?”

“Yes, from yesterday afternoon. He apparently didn’t have a chance to update the file any further before he went out.”

There’s a pause. I sense him hesitating.

“One more thing before I let you go.” His tone seems ever more sober now. “I’d left messages for a few buddies of Kurt’s, and one of them called me back a minute ago. He said he spoke to Kurt right around the same time you did, and they agreed to meet up later for beers.”

“So . . . ?”

“He said Kurt told him he was on a job and couldn’t meet him until after nine.”

“Which is basically what he told us. That he was working.”

“Yeah. Like I said earlier, maybe he just needed to hear himself say it, but there’s a chance he really was working and went to that park for another reason besides sex. I’m sharing everything I know with the cops, and I’m going to go up there tomorrow and have a look around.”

“You think he met with someone who ended up killing him?”

“It’s possible.”

“Something related to my investigation? I’ve never even heard of that park before.”

“Look, we have a bunch of cases going at the moment, which means Kurt was sometimes dealing with more than one during a single time frame. He could have been meeting someone in regard to another case but making calls on the drive about yours. That said, I think it pays for you to be careful.”

“How?” I ask, my panic ballooning. “How do I be careful?”

“I’d keep a low profile for now. If you do have to go out, travel by cab. Don’t go anyplace unfamiliar. And get your husband to accompany you if you can.”

My husband, the man I don’t seem to know anymore.

I thank Williams for his advice, and after we hang up, I stand motionless in the middle of the bedroom. From a distance I hear a paper bag tear open and containers being plunked down on the counter. Then the pop of a cork from a wine bottle.

I’m not sure what terrifies me more: the idea that I’m possibly responsible for Mulroney’s death and the killer is after me as well. Or that my husband might be involved with another woman.

But there’s one thing I do know for sure. I have to get out of here. This apartment. And the city, too.





27


SESSION WITH DR. ERLING

Can you see me okay, Ally?” Dr. Erling asks. We’ve just begun our Saturday Skype session and I’m looking at her from my laptop. She’s sitting at a desk, and from the carved wood bookcase behind her, I can tell she’s in her home office in Larchmont.

“Yup.”

“This isn’t an ideal way to meet, I know, but it’s good we’re able to connect this weekend.”

I nod, agreeing. It’s definitely not the best way—she seems almost two-dimensional—but I really needed the session. I notice that my heart’s already starting to race a little. Maybe it’s because of how much I have to unload—in less than an hour.

“Are you Skyping from your apartment?” she asks.

In a rush, I tell her no, I’m not there. That I took an Uber to New Jersey this morning, and I’m currently sitting in the den/library of my brother Roger’s house.

“My sister-in-law is on some kind of girls’ trip to Florida this weekend,” I explain, “but she comes back on Monday and then I don’t know. I mean, I really don’t have a clue where I’m going to be after that.”

Erling’s brow knits slightly in confusion. “Why don’t you have a clue where you’ll be?”

“I’m not sure what my options are. I don’t want to be in my apartment right now—even in the city. God, I don’t know where to start. . . . I’m pretty sure Hugh’s cheating on me. I kept thinking that the reason he seemed so detached lately was because he was worried about me and also because of this colossal case he’s in the middle of, but I started to hear these warning bells. So I checked his phone.” Before she can react, I continue. “I’ve always been respectful of Hugh’s privacy, I really have, but I had to know—and it turns out he’s been in touch with this woman named Ashley from law school who he told me he barely knew.”

“Did you ask Hugh to explain why he’d been in contact with her?”

“No, and I know that makes me seem like a total wuss. But I don’t want to confront him yet, not until I have proof beyond something I found snooping. Right now, all I have to go on are the calls.”