I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(35)

"Hello," said Kelly, sitting down heavily behind the desk. Her tone was flat, but not in a hostile way - it seemed to speak more of general exhaustion and irritation with the world. She was slightly disheveled, but it was obvious she was making an effort. Her hair was smoothed back, and she’d dabbed on enough eye makeup to make herself appear somewhat awake, if you didn’t look too closely. "How can I help you?"

"I need you to look into something for me," I said. I pulled out the envelope of photos. "Do you think you can find out who this woman is?"

She studied the pictures for a moment. "Where is this?"

"The address is on the back of the first one," I said. She flipped it over and looked at the location that Gen had scrawled there.

"All right," she said. "Do you have any suspicions?"

"Yes," I said. "But not much to go on."

"Well, tell me what you know." She interlaced her fingers and leaned forward.

"Her name is Florence Allen. We used to work together, over at the main office of Plum Tech. Then I married my boss." I hesitated, and looked up at her. "Daniel Thorne."

"I know," she said. "I know who you are."

"Ugh," I said. "That stupid blog."

"That stupid blog," she agreed, smirking. "So, you married your boss."

"I married my boss, and then I found out that he used to date her. She went completely apeshit and tried to ruin our lives. Stalking, threats, the whole nine yards. Then she sort of disappeared, and now…other things are happening. Well, I’m sure you know."

"And you think she’s behind it." Kelly looked down at the pictures. "Interesting."

"I know I sound crazy," I said. "Paranoid, even."

Kelly was silent for a long, long time. Finally, she looked up at me.

"You don’t sound crazy," she said. "But, I’ll have to track her down. She might be staying somewhere under a fake name."

"Can you even do that anymore?" I glanced at the half-empty bottle Johnnie Walker on the desk. "Doesn’t every place want, like…a credit card on file?"

Kelly gave me a withering look.

"Okay," I said. "So I don’t know the criminal underworld. I’m sorry. But I can pay you. That’s not an issue. How much do you need to get started?"

She raised her eyebrows about half a centimeter. "It’s three hundred dollars a day, plus expenses. But I don’t usually take anything up front."

"Well," I said, taking one of the hundreds out of my pocket. "Let’s get you off to a good start, huh?"

"Thank you," she said, taking it and giving me a slightly amused look. "You’re not used to being rich, are you? I can always tell."

"Hate it," I said, without thinking. "Well - I mean - I don’t hate having money. But, you know."

"Sure," said Kelly. "How can I contact you?"

"Oh, right - I’ll give you my number." She handed me a pen, and I scribbled it quickly on the back of the one of the photos. "I don’t think Daniel answers my phone, but on the off chance he does…"

"…I’m your yoga instructor. Got it."

"It’s just…" I hesitated. "I…he doesn’t think it’s her, he thinks I’m just seeing what I want to see. But I know I’m right. I can just…I can smell it."

"Sure," said Kelly. "You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve looked into something like this." She sniffed, rubbing her finger under her nose briskly. "God damn allergies. Sorry. I mean, not exactly like this. But you know - when people have suspicions like this, there’s usually a reason."

"That’s what I thought," I said, standing up. "Thank you, Kelly."

She accepted my hand to shake, looking slightly confused by the gesture. After she’d showed me to the door, and I was halfway out into the hall, she reached out and grabbed my arm.

I froze.

"Yes?" I said, gingerly twisting free of her grasp.

"I’m sorry," she said. "I should have told you earlier. But I couldn’t decide if I should say anything or not."

"…Yeah?" I stared at her, apprehensive.

"Just, uh…" she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "God, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just…don’t look at any of the newspaper boxes on your way home, okay?"

"Oh, please." I smiled at her, reassuringly. "I promise you it’s nothing I haven’t seen before."

Her mouth was twisted into a sort of grimace. "Trust me," she said. "Just keep walking."

Of course, as she’d feared, she had only ignited my curiosity. As I left, down the creaky stairs, I turned back to see her still standing outside her open door with a worried look on her face. I gave her a reassuring smile and little wave, as if to say, don’t worry, I won’t look.

I was totally going to look.

The man in the lobby stared at me balefully as I left, and after I’d finally stepped out onto the sidewalk, I took a deep breath. Even the faint smell of garbage and burning tires passed for "fresh air" after what I’d just been breathing.