Chapter 6
Chapter Six
I jumped out of the way just in time, tumbling onto the pavement near the curb, as the car narrowly missed me. I lay there dazed, my hands and knees stinging as a young man and woman rushed over to help me.
"Are you hurt?" the woman asked. "You almost got hit by that car."
"I—I think I'm okay." I took his hand as he helped me to my feet. My knees were bruised, and one was bleeding, but otherwise I was intact.
"Are you sure you don't want us to call the police?" the woman asked worriedly. "That car could have killed you."
I looked back at the street where traffic was now flowing normally but saw some people on the other side of the street looking in my direction. Glancing back at my rescuers, I said, "Did you see what kind of car it was?"
"It was black, low to the ground, some kind of sedan," the man said.
"What about the person driving it?"
The two exchanged a look, then the man said, "We didn't see. It all happened so fast."
"It's crazy how people speed right through red lights," the woman said. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to the police? Maybe they can find the car."
Before I could answer, a patrol car stopped and a young male officer got out. "What's going on?" he asked. "We got reports of a hit-and-run."
"I wasn't actually hit. But a car ran the red light, and I jumped out of the way," I told him.
"Do you need a medic?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm all right."
"You're bleeding."
"It will be okay. Are there cameras at this intersection? Do you think you could find the car that almost ran me down? They said it was a black sedan."
"We can check. What's your name?"
"Tessa Conway," I said as he made a note of that.
"Do you have ID?"
"Yes." I opened my bag and pulled out my wallet, my hand shaking as I slid the ID out of its pocket and handed it to him.
"New York," he commented. "You're a tourist?"
"I'm here for a conference. I'm staying at the Merriman." I tipped my head toward the hotel, which was across the street and halfway down the block.
"All right."
As he handed me back my ID, I gave him my card and said, "Can you let me know if you find the driver?"
"Will do." He turned to the couple. "Do you mind telling me what you saw?"
They gave their statements, and he made notes and took down their information. I wasn't sure what he was going to do with any of it, but hopefully something.
As he got back into his patrol car, I thanked the couple again and then very carefully made my way across the street on the next green light.
By the time I entered the hotel, my body was aching from my fall, and I could see blood dripping down my leg. Rachel was standing at the concierge desk and gave me a cheerful wave, her expression changing when she saw my condition.
"Tessa, what happened?" She came around from behind her counter, concern in her gaze.
"A car ran a red light. It almost hit me. I had to dive to the ground."
"Oh, my God! Do you need to go to the ER? Or I can call for a doctor to come here to see you?"
"Not necessary. I just have some scrapes."
"I'll grab a first aid kit and send it up to your room. What else do you need?"
All I needed was to get upstairs and away from curious eyes and more questions. It had been a grueling and emotional afternoon. "A first aid kit would be great," I said, forcing a smile onto my face. "Thanks."
"I'll get it right up to you."
I moved toward the bank of elevators, happy when the doors immediately opened.
When I opened the door to the suite a moment later, I was surprised to find it empty.
No sign of Cassidy or Morgan. But that was fine.
The silence was actually soothing. I dropped my bag on the coffee table and kicked off my shoes, taking a better look at my scrapes.
I had a pretty deep scratch on my left knee, which was still bleeding a little.
I'd definitely taken off some skin. My right knee was bruised, but not in as bad of shape.
I was about to head into the bathroom when I heard a knock at the door.
Expecting housekeeping, I was surprised to see Rachel in the hallway.
"It was faster for me to bring you this," she said, holding up the first aid kit.
"That's nice of you."
"Let me help you with it."
I didn't want her help, but it felt like it would raise more questions if I said no and tried to get rid of her. "Okay, thanks."
I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.
She put the bag on the couch next to me, then said, "Let me get a towel first and try to clean that cut up a bit.
" She grabbed a towel from the kitchen area and got it wet before bringing it back to the living room.
Getting on her knees, she helped clean my worst scrape with a very gentle hand. "I don't think you need a stitch."
"I'll be fine."
"You will be," she said with a smile. "But first you need antiseptic to get rid of any street germs. I won't lie. It's going to sting."
"I know."
I winced as Rachel quickly applied the antiseptic and then a bandage.
"I think the other leg is okay. Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked.
"No. Thanks for doing this. I didn't know nursing was part of your concierge duties."
"Only for friends. As you may remember, I was the oldest of five kids, three of whom were boys, so I patched up many of my siblings over the years."
"I do remember that. You used to tell some crazy stories about them."
Rachel set the first aid kit on the coffee table. "I'll leave this here so you can change your bandage later." She gave me a thoughtful look. "I wonder if you should talk to the police about what happened."
"I did. A patrol officer stopped, and there were witnesses, so he got my name and their names and said he'd check to see if the speeding car was captured on cameras in the area."
"Good. I'm glad you made a report. Usually, there's so much traffic around here that speeding isn't an option."
"There was traffic tonight, too, but I guess the car didn't see the light or me."
"You're lucky. It could have been a lot worse. I hope this hasn't soured your Chicago return."
"I had a feeling coming back to Chicago was a risk. And I'm not talking about the traffic."
"Too many memories?"
"And they're all coming back."
"I saw your video. I can't quite believe you're investigating Paige's death after all these years. Have you found out anything yet?"
"Just getting started."
"How are you going to figure it out now without the help of the police?"
"I'm hoping to get that help. If I can generate enough public interest, maybe they'll take another look at the investigation. The former detective who worked on the case is retired, so it would be seen by someone with fresh eyes, which could be a good thing."
"Who are you planning to talk to, all our old college friends? Do you really believe someone we knew is a murderer?"
"I hope not. But I guess we'll find out."
"It would be crazy if someone killed Paige," she said, her eyes lit up with an odd kind of excitement.
"It would be terrible," I said pointedly.
Her expression shifted. "Of course, it would be terrible. Sorry, I guess I'm getting caught up in the drama of it all. And I'm not the only one. I'm on some text threads with old friends, and everyone is buzzing about you and Paige."
"Anyone have any information?"
"So far, just a lot of speculation. I can ask questions, if you want. Although, I'm sure you'll do your own interviews."
"I will. Alina compiled a list for me, and I have some of my own ideas as well. I'm not sure how many people are still here in Chicago."
"There's a fair number of people still here. Who's on the list?"
"Sloane Winters, Paige's roommate."
"She's here. It's actually Sloane Delano now. She married Garrett Delano. He's big in Chicago real estate. They live in a beautiful house in Glencoe, and she had a baby last year. She's doing well. My fiancé is friends with Garrett, so we've gotten together a few times."
"Is she still painting?"
"She is. But she hasn't had as much time since she had the baby." Rachel paused. "Who else do you want to talk to?"
"Nate Gardiner, Paige's boyfriend at the time."
"He's here, too. He's actually working with your aunt at the Cornerstone Theater."
"Seriously? He's an actor?"
"No. I think he does something in the ticket office. I ran into him at the Soho House a few weeks ago, and he told me he handles sales and ticket operations for a bunch of theaters and comedy clubs in the city. I'm surprised your aunt didn't tell you that."
"I haven't spoken to my aunt in several months. And when we talk, we don't usually discuss people from my past. I left that behind when I moved to New York."
"It was a little sad that we didn't keep in touch, Tessa. But I guess that started even before you moved. Once you got into the theater productions, you were never really around."
"I was a little obsessed," I admitted, feeling bad that I'd made her sad. I'd always liked Rachel, and she had been a good friend to me in my sophomore year. We just hadn't had the same interests, and back then my only interests were the theater and Liam.
"Well, it's nice to reconnect, even though I wish it wasn't because of Paige." Rachel paused. "Is Liam on your list, too?"
"I already spoke to him. He doesn't know anything."
"How was that conversation?"
"Awkward," I admitted.
"I went to his club a few weeks ago. He's still very attractive."
"I noticed. But that ship sailed before I even got on the plane to New York."
"Too bad. From what I could see back then, it seemed like he was good for you."
"Apparently, I wasn't good for him."
"Well, college relationships rarely last. I'd better get back to work."
"Thanks for the first aid and the chat."
"Of course. If I can help in any way, let me know. My number is the same as when I was in college. You might still have it."
"I probably do. I also have the same number."
"Then you can call me directly if you need anything. Are you still leaving tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure. I have to talk to my friends."