24
Florence
I look up from my desk with a sigh. "What is it, Gwen?"
"Ma'am." She closes the door behind her and straightens her shoulders.
"You have my attention, Gwendolyn." I cross my arms over my chest. "Whatever it is, speak already."
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "You need to quit acting like a lovesick fool. Whatever problems you have with your fiancée need to stay out of the office."
"Excuse me?" I say drily, raising an eyebrow—more in surprise than disagreement.
She releases an exasperated sigh. "Look. I don't care about your love life. Whatever spat you and your—" Clearing her throat, she rolls her eyes. "Whatever is happening between you and this woman is compromising your judgment and your behavior. It needs to stop. Marin says—"
I stand up. "Marin says what?" I ask dangerously.
She takes a step toward me, but her tone softens. "That Josie's been giving you the runaround all week. I'm not here to pick a fight with you, Florence."
"What then?" I step toward her.
"What's the first line in my job description?" she asks, surprising me.
"To assist and support me in any way necessary for me to do my job." I don't understand.
"Yes," she nods. "In order for you to do your job to your standards," her lip curls up, "you need to get your head out of your ass. I don't say that to be unfeeling or unempathetic. I say that because you have a job to do, and you aren't seeing clearly."
I sigh in resignation. She's not wrong. "What exactly do you propose I do about it?"
She nods, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "She teaches labs from six to nine on Thursday evenings at the university campus. Ballentine building. The lab is in room 204 on the second floor. There's a small parking lot just north of the building, off Noble. That part of campus is well-lit at night."
"You're suggesting I ambush her. With her students around."
She studies me for a moment. "I'm suggesting you talk to her. You obviously have something to work out," she says. "Whatever it is, work it out."
"Or what?" I ask, the corner of my mouth curling in amusement. "Are you going to fire me?"
"No," she laughs, "but I'm sure I can set something up where you'd have to talk to her in public, and I figure you'd both rather do that in private."
I nod reluctantly. "I'll try to talk to her tonight. It's not just that, though." I sigh. "My nonna is under the weather, and at her age, that worries me."
She nods. "I know. But we can't do anything about that. This is something you have some control over. A wise woman often tells me to take control. Take control, Pietra." She rests her hand on my arm. "Do you need anything before I leave for the afternoon? You have a meeting with Jason and Aimee, but otherwise your evening is clear."
"Go." I nod toward the door.
I stop her as she turns to leave. "Gwen?"
"Boss?"
"Thank you."
I knock on the lab door five minutes before Josie's class is scheduled to be finished, silently poking my head in. I'm surprised to find nearly all the students gone. Three are still here, but they've already packed up their bags.
I see the momentary surprise in her eyes when she sees me, but she covers it quickly. "Come on in," she tells me, meeting me near the door. She puts a hand on my back, leading me to the front corner of the lab near her desk. She waves to the three students as they head out the door.
"You weren't answering my calls."
"I've been busy," she defends herself. "I'm coming up against some unexpected challenges with the penthouse property." She frowns. "Marin said your grandmother is sick?" She sticks her files and her laptop into her bag. "Where are you parked?"
"I'm parked next to you. Yes, Nonna's sick. It's just a cold, but any time she gets sick is dangerous. She's ninety-eight, so I always worry about her."
She locks the lab door and wiggles the handle to make sure it's locked.
"What's going on with the property?" I ask as we exit the building.
She's quiet for a minute. "At least some of the items are stolen—besides that coin we were talking about, I mean. I found a letter in the safe, and—" She shakes her head. "I'm starting to wonder if I should just walk away from all of it."
I tangle my fingers with hers and squeeze her hand. I think she's going to pull away for a minute before her hand relaxes in mine. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Her shoulders drop. "I don't know. I haven't even told Mel and Renna about it."
I bite my tongue. I don't want to hear about Mel. "Why not?
She bites her lip. "I need to talk to my dad and see what he knows—without my mom knowing about it."
That sounds ominous. "Your grandfather, he was your mom's dad, right?" She told Josie to walk away from all of this, if I remember correctly.
She nods. "I still don't understand why. But I have a lot more questions now."
We arrive at the parking lot. "Can I take you out for a drink? I can listen."
She shakes her head. "I appreciate it, Florence, but I'm tired. It's been a long day. I'm already stressed, and I don't want to lead you on. I haven't told anyone about this. My head is exploding with everything."
I squeeze her hand before I let go. "I could come to your house. No expectations," I promise. "I can listen. Just be a friend," I offer.
She raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know Florence Pietra knew how to do that," she teases.
I don't know why, but that hits me like a punch in the gut. Maybe it's because she's been ghosting me all week. I turn away from her, pulling out my keys. "Never mind." I swallow thickly.
"Hey." She reaches out, grabbing my arm. "I'm sorry."
I freeze. I nod mutely without looking back at her. I pull away from her.
"Come over. I'll meet you back at my place."
"Do you want a drink?" she asks, letting me into her apartment.
I shake my head. "Some water or tea, maybe. I won't drink around you right now." I slowly breathe in her scent. I glance around the place. Weird. There's a step ladder against the wall. "Tell me what's going on with your grandfather's stuff."
She puts on some water for tea then sits down at the table. "I don't know much. He was a Nazi and a thief."
"What do you mean? It was common for soldiers to loot—on all sides, not just the Nazis." Nonna has let bits and pieces of her story slip out over the years. We learned a little about the war during school, but not much. I was in college before it occurred to me that Nonna had lived through it, and that was why she came to this country with Mom.
She chews on her cheek for a long minute, lost in thought. "My grandmother died when I was four. I don't know exactly what happened to her. She was only in her sixties. I always thought she died from a heart attack, but I'm not sure if anyone actually ever said that."
I nod, silent. I'm guessing she didn't die of a heart attack.
"I got into the safe deposit box on Saturday, after I met Renna at school for a few hours."
The tea kettle whistles, and I get up, motioning for her to continue. "What was inside?"
"An inventory of everything. The appraisals and all the paperwork for authenticity are in a safe at the property." She waves that away. "There was also a letter to me."
I pour two cups of tea and set one in front of her.
"It was creepy, Florence. I can't even talk to Mel about it."
"Creepy, how?
"He's been watching me from his tower perch for thirty years." She nods toward the step stool. "He had a fucking camera on my living room. Tilly helped me find it and disable it. There's one at my parents house and Mel's house, too."
I frown. "To what end? Any idea?" Besides being scary, that's illegal. I wonder how long he was watching her.
"He was obsessed with me. I think because I'm his only living relative, besides mom. She shut him out as soon as my grandma died—about thirty years ago."
"That's why he left everything to you." It makes sense.
"He has a picture of me at my hooding ceremony—when I officially became a doctor. Either he was there, or he had someone else there to take the picture. Next to the picture, he has a shelf full of my favorite books."
"How did he know what you liked to read?" I frown at the thought.
"Besides the cameras? He hacked into my phone, my online shopping, email, everything. Mel's, too, I think." She sighs. "There's also a hidden room with all my favorite books since I was a kid, going back to kindergarten and first grade."
She's been dealing with this all by herself?
"Why don't you want to tell Mel?" I ask her gently. I'm sure she wouldn't blame her. Any camera at Mel's place was obviously about Josie.
"Tilly and I deactivated the cameras—at my parents, and Mel's, too. I think he killed my grandmother."
She's not making sense. "I don't follow."
"He was also obsessed with finding someone he met during the war. Only he didn't know her name or where she went after the war. He spent eighty years trying to find a ghost."
"Come sit on the couch." I pick up her tea and bring it to the coffee table. "Sit by me."
She curls up against my side.
"How much of this does Tilly know about?" It sounds like she trusts her, at least.
She purses her lips. "The cameras. And the books." She shrugs. "It's stalker behavior, Florence." She rests an exhausted head against my shoulder.
"Yes, it is." I'm not leaving her alone tonight. "It's too late to call Mel and Renna tonight, but we'll talk to them tomorrow. When are they out of work?"
She shakes her head. "Mel is usually done about five, Renna about an hour later. She works with Dr. Harris on Fridays. We don't need to tell them, though."
I cup her cheek and turn her gaze to my face. "Mel is your best friend. You know she would want to be here for you." I press my lips to her forehead. "Let me take care of you tonight."
She stiffens.
"No," I say softly. "Not like that, Josie. I just want you to feel safe. Until you have your friends and your family around you, let me be your safe space."
I look at Tilly across the table in the hospital cafeteria. She glances between Renna and Mel, raising an eyebrow.
"Dr. Gorden. Ms. Pietra." Mel stares hard at me. "What is this about? Is this about Josie?"
Tilly puts her hand over Renna's. "Will you settle your woman down already?" She motions toward Mel. "It's not about Josie—not really. It's about the things she found at the bank. And the penthouse."
"Where is she?" Mel asks, glancing around.
"She's not here," I say wryly. "She doesn't even know that I'm here. I'd appreciate if you'd give me a chance to talk to you."
"That means you need to shut your mouth for a minute." Tilly smirks at Mel.
"Stop it, both of you." Renna sighs. "Florence," she says my name distastefully, "say what you've got to say. The rest of us have work to do."
"Josie doesn't want to worry you, but she found out that her grandfather has been watching her. For years, probably. He had cameras in her living room. Tilly helped her disable and remove them."
Renna looks at Tilly, her eyes growing wide. "Is that true?"
Tilly nods. At least she has the grace to look sheepish.
Mel growls at Tilly. "You found out he was stalking her and didn't fucking say anything to me?" She turns to me. "Where is she now?"
I put my hand on Mel's. It's warm. For some reason, I expected her to be cold. "She's at work, safe, surrounded by students and professors," I say gently. "She's safe. I'll remind you that he's dead." I purse my lips. "It looks like he'd been watching her, in some capacity, since she was a little kid."
Mel whistles, frowning. "How? Why?"
"I don't know, honestly. There's another thing." I hold my hand up to stave off comment. "She already disabled them, but he had cameras at her parents house and at your house. They're already disabled," I repeat. "We need to get the cameras out of your place, though. It's not likely, but as long as they're hidden, they could theoretically be hacked." The words send a chill down my spine.
Renna turns to Tilly angrily. "Did you know about that, too?"
Tilly shakes her head. "I knew about her parents. She's planning to talk to her dad this weekend to get some answers, anyways, but she doesn't want to talk to him with her mom around."
Mel lets out a long breath. "It's probably better that way. There's history, with her mom and grandparents, that Josie never understood. They don't talk about it." She looks hard at me. "Why did she talk to you about all this and not come to us?"
I look down at my hands and swallow. "I tracked her down at school last night. She was ignoring me all week. My EA told me to get my head out of my ass and talk to her."
Tilly snorts. "Florence." My name sounds sour on her lips. "You need to understand. Josie has only ever loved one woman. No judgment, Doctor." She glances at Mel, before returning her gaze to me. "For her, love and sex are completely unrelated. Just because you let her fuck you on the kitchen table in the heat of the moment does not mean she has feelings."
I open my mouth to respond, but I can't find words.
"Tilly," Renna warns, "don't be like that."
She raises an eyebrow in challenge. "I'm not being like that," she says. "It's just the truth. It's like saying water is wet." Breaking into a cocky grin, she winks at me. "Take what you can get, girl. Both of you need it."
I'm not sure how my love life—or my sex life—is any of their business. I swallow. "I don't know why she's reticent to tell you about this," I tell Mel, "but it's important that she has her friends supporting her. It sounds like she may have trouble coming up with the money she needs, too."
"I thought she could just sell some of the shit in the penthouse," Tilly quips. "Even if she doesn't get top dollar for it, who cares?"
I shake my head. "She told me the auction house won't work with her, which limits her options and causes a whole lot more work. They've essentially blacklisted her in the local numismatic community because some of the items are stolen."
"Do you have the money to help her, if it comes down to that?" Mel asks. "All of my money is tied up in the condo and paying off student loans."
"Mine is tied up in investments," Renna adds. "I might be able to pull money from it, but it would cost a ton."
Tilly sighs. "Residents don't make that much." Renna reaches over and squeezes her hand.
I bite my lip thoughtfully. "I have the money, but…" I clear my throat. "My lawyer cautioned me against any money exchanging hands. Legal issues." I raise an eyebrow at the three women around the table. I don't want to mention the contract in public.
Tilly perks up. "But you have it."
"I do. I'm not sure how that helps Josie, though—under the circumstances."
"Maybe you could buy something from the penthouse. Or maybe you know someone who would."
That's a thought. That would get around the legal aspect of money for sex, at least on a technicality. "My brother is a numismatist. He might be interested in some things, too." I wonder if Joe would take the risk if he knew the origin of some of Mr. Schneider's collection.
"First thing," Tilly breaks into my thoughts, "is to get those cameras out of your place, and out of the Mueller's house. Then we can consider what options we have for coming up with the money."