Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
My breath catches. I need more. I have to tell him more.
“His ex-girlfriend. Like I said, she’s stalking me, too.”
“How do you know?”
“My assistant has seen her following me. She’s come to my workplace. She’s followed me.” I swallow, trying to think of what more I can say. “I don’t feel safe. I want restraining orders against both of them.”
“Well, we can try.” Detective Green scribbles more notes. “Though I have to tell you, I’m not hearing any specific threat to your safety. And for some reason, I feel like you’re not telling me the entire story, Dr. McCall.”
I blow out a jagged breath and nod. “There are things I can’t say, because I’m not permitted. If you can read between the lines…”
He squints at me. “Can’t say, not won’t? So this has to do with doctor-patient confidentiality, then?”
I try to keep my face as impassive as possible. “I can’t say.”
He frowns and pulls open a drawer. “All right. Well, there are some forms to fill out. I’ll bring it to the DA and then a judge will review it. Can you tell me the girlfriend’s name?”
Again, I hesitate, but I have a right to protect myself.
“Rebecca Jordan.”
The detective writes it down, but halfway through her last name, he goes still.
“Why does that name sound familiar?” he murmurs, staring down at it. He finishes writing, blinks, and then looks up at me. “Hang on a sec.” He stands, goes to a file cabinet, and pulls the middle drawer out. He skims through what looks like a hundred files. I watch, confused, wishing he’d give me the forms already so I can get this over with. I’m itching to get out of here. To get home.
Finally, he settles back in his chair, flipping through papers. He runs a finger down a form filled out in black ink, and again goes still.
He looks up.
“There obviously wasn’t a trial, so the only time I came across the name was when I took the witness’s statement and later when I typed it up. Which was a long time ago now. That’s why it only rang a vague bell.”
“Witness?” I say. “I’m confused.”
Detective Green turns the paper in his hand to face me and points to the middle of the page. “Rebecca Jordan was the witness who saw your husband’s car hit the Wrights.”
CHAPTER 40 Now
Seventeenth Precinct. How many I direct your call?”
“Hello. I’d like to speak to Detective Green, please.”
It’s my second call in two days, but it’s been three since I went to speak to him. And nothing. No calls. No update. Definitely no restraining order.
“Detective Green isn’t in today. Is there anyone else who can help you?”
I sigh. “I don’t think so.”
“Would you like to leave a message on his voicemail?”
“Um, sure. Thank you.”
The woman connects me. Detective Green says something about hanging up and calling 911 for an emergency, and then there’s a long, flat beep. Normally I’d organize my thoughts before I left someone a voicemail, but I don’t bother to try now. I already know it’s not possible to sound calm and collected, and I’m past the point of caring.
“Hi, Detective Green. It’s Meredith McCall. I was hoping to get an update on the restraining order, because, well… I need to go to work today. I’ve canceled my patients the last two days, but I can’t keep doing that. My patients need me. And I’m out of milk.” And wine, though I don’t say that. “Anyway, I can’t stay locked up in my apartment, so I’m going to have to go out. But quite frankly, the thought terrifies me. I mean, why are they doing this to me? What do they want?” I pace through my apartment as I ramble. When my eyes catch on the shiny new locks I had a locksmith add to my front door yesterday, I swallow. “If you could please call me when you get this message, I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
I swipe my phone off and see a new text has arrived from Sarah.
Sarah: Morning, boss. Just checking in to make sure we’re a go for today.
I want to type back Cancel all patients until further notice. But I won’t. I need my practice as much as it needs me. Plus, the walls of this apartment are closing in around me. So instead I type back that I’ll be at the office by eight and go about trying to cover some of the dark circles under my eyes. It’s a futile effort, of course. Because raccoon rings are only half the problem. I’ve also lost weight. More than I realized. And I haven’t seen sunlight in a while. So my eyes are sunken into a pale, hollow face that looks sick. Which I suppose I am.
I leave my apartment like a criminal on the run—checking through the peephole before opening the three locks I now have on my door, looking both ways on the street before darting to the waiting Uber. Even when I’m safely inside the car, I don’t feel safe. My eyes flit around the streets looking for them. For Gabriel. For Rebecca.