One Card, No Answers
Delaney
Walt stared from the open doorway. "Have you been crying?"
Yes, I had, in fact. After leaving Maddox, I'd made it down only three flights before bursting into tears – as if I'd just broken up with a boyfriend of two years instead of a dangerous stranger I'd known for barely two days.
What a joke. I couldn't even call it a breakup, because we had never been a couple.
I wasn't even sure why I'd cried. I kept telling myself it wasn't about him at all. After all, the past two days had been a complete dumpster fire without any help from him – whatever his name was.
And now, I was about to cry in front of Walt, someone else I barely knew. But I'd still felt obligated to stop by – not for my sake, but for his.
In reply to his question, I reached up and rubbed at my eyes while mumbling, "It's probably just allergies."
Walt studied my face. "Allergies, my ass. What's wrong?"
Inside his apartment, the ballgame was blaring. On the side-table next to the nearest recliner, I saw the plate I'd brought down earlier – except now it was empty, with the foil crumpled up beside it.
I tried to smile. "Nothing. I've just got something to tell you, that's all."
He glanced at my dress. "You changed your clothes."
"Uh…yeah." Heat crept up my neck. "That's part of the story, I guess." Again, my gaze strayed to his TV. "But maybe you want to wait for a commercial?"
"Eh, forget the game," he said. "The Sox are down by six. No way they're pulling that out of their ass." He flicked his head toward the living room. "You wanna come in?"
I did, actually. It wasn't only because I owed him a heads-up. Mostly, I dreaded the idea of returning to Tessa's empty apartment, where I knew exactly what I'd do.
I'd completely lose it. I'd end up sobbing on her couch – or worse in her shower, where I'd been spending far too much time already.
As I trudged into Walt's living room, he grabbed the remote and gave it a click – not turning off the game, but muting the sound while I sat on the nearby sofa.
He sank into the nearest recliner and waved a hand. "Now, come on. Out with it."
I blinked long and hard before letting out a sigh. "The thing is…I got caught in the trash again."
He studied my face. "Forget the trash. What's got you upset?"
I tried to smile. "How do you know it's not the trash?"
"Because people don't cry over garbage. So unless you found a severed head, I'm guessing it's something else."
No. It was someone else.
Still, I waved the thought away as I tried to keep my voice level. "I've just got a lot going on, that's all." I felt so alone and overwhelmed. I could've really used a sister. "And Tessa's not returning my calls."
"So that's why you're upset?" His expression cleared. "Don't worry about that. Siblings fight all the time. One time, I didn't talk to my brother for a whole year. And we worked it out."
I forced a little laugh. "I never said we were fighting."
"You didn't have to." He gave me a knowing look. "You're here. She's not. And you just said she's not answering your calls. Sounds like a fight to me."
If only it were that simple. I'd spent the past year avoiding Tessa like the plague. So was it any wonder she was doing the same to me?
Then again, we'd been drifting apart for years. I sank deeper onto the sofa. "Maybe we're just too different."
"How so?"
"Well…for starters, you'd never see her digging in the trash." And then, before Walt could reply, I added, "Speaking of which, I should tell you what happened."
He shook his head. "Nah. I already heard."
I couldn't help but groan. "You did? Already?" Damn it. I knew I should've come down right away. Then again, it's not like I'd been doing nothing.
He leaned forward, and his eyes glittered with mischief. "So tell me, were you really stealing it?"
And just like that, an image popped into my head. It was a snapshot of myself as seen through the eyes of Mrs. Stelter, who'd exited the elevator on this very floor just in time to see me hoist the whole Santa sack of trash from the bin.
But hey, there was a method to my madness. I'd been planning to dig through it in private.
No audience. No drama. And no getting caught with a stupid burger bag.
Turns out, I'd been wildly optimistic. The bag had barely cleared the bin when I'd been caught red-handed like the Grinch on Christmas Eve.
By then, what was I supposed to do?
Put it back?
As if that would solve anything.
Instead, I'd made a break for it, bolting for the stairwell, lugging the bag like stolen booty.
And once I had the bag safely inside Tessa's kitchen, I'd had to dig through it, right? I mean, why go to all that effort just to give up halfway?
After I found those disposable gloves under the sink, there was no turning back. I'd used the gloves to dig through every piece of garbage, dropping each discarded item into a new trash bag as I went.
I'd found the business card about halfway down.
Unfortunately, I'd also encountered a stupid iced latte that I managed to spill down the front of my shirt and leggings.
Okay, yes, the latte was mostly ice, but that didn't change the fact that I'd been forced to change my clothes for the third time today, which really sucked, because I was down to nearly nothing clean in my suitcase.
But to be fair, the suitcase had contained more computer stuff than actual clothes.
Sure, I had a second suitcase, but that was still trapped in the trunk of my Ford Focus.
In the end, I'd been forced to choose between the pink sundress, a slightly obscene Bigfoot T-shirt, and the yellow bikini I'd packed just in case Tessa and I ended up on the beach.
As if.
And speaking of Tessa, there was no way I'd borrow anything more from her – not when I seemed determined to stain whatever I was wearing.
Finally, I'd settled on the pink sundress instead of the battle gear I needed.
As I relayed all of this to Walt, I finished by saying, "But I did put all the trash back, so I wasn't technically stealing it, see?"
No lie. I'd returned the bag of trash to the same exact bin before taking yet another shower and changing into the sundress so I wouldn't be confronting What's-His-Name in dirty clothes.
And yet, even now, I still felt grubby.
As far as the business card, it had been mostly useless. Cal's last name was Smith of all things, which did nothing to narrow him down. Even worse, there was no company name, no mailing address, and no email either.
All it had was his name and phone number, which I didn't dare call – not from my own phone, at least.
But maybe if I bought a burner?
I almost rolled my eyes. Yeah, right.
With what money?
I was still searching for a solution when Walt said, "Cal Smith, huh? No wonder I forgot it."
"No kidding." I made a face. "If only it were something more unique…like Hornswaggle."
Walt gave a slow nod. "Now that I would've remembered." But then, his expression turned serious. "That guy – he didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"
"No." But even as I said it, a slow ache squeezed at my heart. "It's just that…it was all so sneaky. And he seemed so nice, I guess I forgot to be careful." My face warmed as I recalled that one incredible kiss.
If things had played out differently, who knows what I might've done?
Nakedness wasn't exactly out of the question.
Walt asked, "So why was he looking for you? Do you know?"
The question was the cold slap of reality I needed, and I spoke without thinking. "I used to work for this lawyer, and I think he was involved in some shady stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Walt frowned. "You're not in any trouble, are you?"
Damn it. To think, I'd kept everything to myself for months and months, only to start blabbing to a near stranger.
I needed to get a grip. "No, nothing like that." I prayed it was true. And probably it was. Whoever the guy was, he'd had me alone for hours in that penthouse. If he'd wanted to hurt me, it wouldn't have been hard.
Plus, he did tell me those troubles were over. That should bring me some comfort, right?
Abruptly, Walt stood. "You said he's in that other penthouse, right?"
I nodded.
"Tell ya what." He flicked his head toward the door. "Let's go see him."
I swallowed. "You mean now?"
"Hell, yeah. You and me together, okay?" His gaze grew steely. "Or better yet, you stay here. I'll straighten him out."
In that moment, I could've hugged him. Even my dad had never jumped to his feet on my behalf.
Still, I shook my head. "No, but thanks." But then I paused. "Actually, there's something you could do if you don't mind?"
"And what's that?"
"Do you think you could find out more about him?" I hesitated. "I mean…without anyone knowing?"