The rest of the day passed in a blur as she finalized the motions she’d read to block Kinley’s departure from the hospital. It seemed every time she hit her stride, Taylor was in her office with another urgent question. The stress showed in her assistant’s hunched shoulders and tight face when she appeared again at five.
“I’m leaving if you don’t need me.”
“I’m good. What are you up to tonight?”
“Going swing dancing with a friend.”
“Sounds like a great way to let go of stress.”
Taylor’s face relaxed from its tense mask. “More than you know. There’s something about knowing I look like a fool out there, but not caring. My friend tells me I’m getting better each time.”
Emilie matched her grin. “I’m sure you are. Maybe I’ll come with you sometime. It sounds fun.”
Once the office was quiet again, Emilie quickly worked through the letters and motions Taylor had prepared throughout the day. If opposing counsel would cooperate instead of delaying until Emilie’s clients gave up, life would be better. Was the best lawyer the one who advocated hard for their client? Or could the best lawyer be the one who delayed? She wasn’t sure, but as she watched the stack of letters and motions move from the left-hand side of her desk to the right, she knew half of the pile would evaporate if she had an attorney on the other side who cared to do an efficient job. Still, she managed to get through the urgent matters and get good, clean drafts of the documents she needed for Kinley. She’d touch base with Reid and then sign the filings tomorrow so they could get to court before the hospital released the girl. As much as she’d love to have perfect evidence, she’d have to settle for what they had.
She rolled her neck, feeling the tightness that had settled there. Time to get a massage and release the tension her shoulders held tightly like a scarf.
Since she didn’t have time for that, she’d walk home and use that time when all was bright and crowds were still about to clear her head and find the equilibrium she’d need to finish preparations for filing the emergency guardianship petition in the morning.
When Emilie reached home, she could feel the sweat pooling in the small of her back. Even with tourists throughout Old Town, she’d hurried her pace, eager to get home. It had been a few days since she’d heard from her shadow. Maybe he had disappeared and she didn’t need to look over her shoulder all the time. Still, the walk hadn’t cleared her head as she’d hoped. Guess she’d get Hayden to drive her back to get her car, but first she’d change into something cool and sit on top of the air-conditioner vents. Then she’d have her head examined. Only someone who was incredibly distracted would think a stroll in the humidity would clear her mind.
The blast of air when she entered the town house was the cool dousing she needed. A shiver traveled up her back, and she hurried to the basement. After she set down her bag, she splashed cool water on her face and then patted a damp washcloth around her neck. Water droplets dotted the front of her crimson silk shell, and she froze. The water darkened the already rich blouse until it looked like blood.
She froze at the image, her mind moving to the pictures of Kaylene’s and Kaydence’s bodies covered by white sheets.
“Emilie?”
She jerked, then she reached up trembling fingers and touched the mirror.
“Emilie?” The voice was closer, and Emilie closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.
God, I can’t do this anymore. I need Your help. All of my efforts are failing, and it’s too easy to imagine that Kinley will join her family. How can I save her? A tear slipped down her cheek, but she ignored it. I can’t, but You can. Give me wisdom and bring the truth to light. If I can be part of that process, use me.
When she opened her eyes, she saw the beginnings of peace reflected in her gaze.
“There you are.” Hayden stepped into the thin visage of the mirror. Her navy suit was slightly wrinkled from the day, but her lipstick looked fresh. “I wanted to let you know—” She stopped and stepped closer. Her head tilted as she studied Emilie, and her brows met in the crease over her nose. “What’s wrong?”
Emilie shook her head. “Nothing. Everything. But I’m praying about it.”
“Okay. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t really know. I just need to move. I think I’ve gotten so trapped in everything we don’t know that I’m forgetting what we do have.”
“Sometimes you have to put it in front of a judge.”
“We’re definitely there. It’s got to happen tomorrow morning if we want to act before Kinley’s released.”
“Then you will, and knowing you, you will have a well-thought-out argument. Or a creative one.”
“I’m hoping for convincing.” Emilie forced a smile. “What do you need?”
“Nothing. You left the upstairs door cracked.” Hayden shivered, and Emilie knew where her mind had gone. “I let that rattle me. Wanted to see you were okay.”
“I am.”
“Sure.” There was skepticism in her voice, but Hayden took a slight step back, the signal that she would give Emilie the space she needed. It was one of her roommate’s characteristics that Emilie valued . . . the willingness to wait. But in that moment, she almost wished Hayden would push.
Hayden must have read the silent plea, because she reached for Emilie. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”
Emilie closed her eyes, refusing to cry over a nameless fear. She blew out a slow breath, then opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. “It all became too much for a minute.”
Hayden cocked a hand on her hip and made a so-what gesture. “We all have that moment some days. How can I help?”
“You could give me a ride to my car.”
“Did it break down?”
“No, but I must have. I thought walking home today would clear my mind. Instead, it muddied it further.”
“Of course it did. The heat index is over one hundred. I’ll get you a glass of water and then change. One ride coming up.”
“Thanks.” Emilie forced a grin and stepped into her bedroom. Five minutes later she was dressed in a pair of white denim capris and a gauzy shirt with butterfly sleeves. As she sipped the water with cucumber slices, she could feel it flow through her. Maybe she could blame the incident in the bathroom on dehydration. That sounded better than stress.
The drive back to the office was quiet, and when Emilie climbed out, Hayden leaned out the window. “Do you want me to wait?”
“No, go ahead.” If everyone was gone, she could take the opportunity to do a quick search of Rhoda’s office. That wasn’t something she’d tell Hayden though. “I need to do something, but I should be back in an hour or so.”
“All right. I’m meeting Andrew for dinner.” A soft blush colored her friend’s cheeks, matching her rose T-shirt. “See you when I get home.”
“I’ll wait up.”
Hayden rolled her eyes, then closed her window and pulled from the curb.
Emilie waited until Hayden turned, then tugged her office keys free of her purse. As she glanced at the parking lot, she saw that her car was the last one in the lot. Still, it felt like someone was watching her. She did a slow turn but didn’t see anyone. “Hello?”
She waited, though she knew her shadow wouldn’t answer if he were there. Her stalker liked the act of the chase. What happened when the chase ended or she stopped playing?
Time to get inside and away from whoever’s prying eyes were on her.
The key stuck in the lock as she tried to cram it in and twist. “Come on.”
She felt the gaze getting closer. You’ve read too much suspense, Emilie.
No, she’d lived too many clients’ stories. It took no effort for her mind to spin out what could happen if someone were watching. Finally, as she frantically twisted one last time, she felt the lock move.
She pulled the door and fell inside, letting the door fall closed beneath her weight. “Pull it together, Wesley.” She listened for the click of the lock reengaging.
The office was dark, so she flipped on a light before heading through the warren, making sure no one was in a darkening office. It would be hard to explain if someone stumbled on her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong . . . really. If she asked, normally Rhoda would be forthcoming. But her boss had forbidden her to pursue Kaylene’s case any further, and Emilie couldn’t help but feel something was going on.
She slipped through the open office door and sat at Rhoda’s desk.
Where would her boss put the files that contained the information she needed? She swiveled the chair to the wall of file cabinets behind Rhoda’s desk. When she handed Emilie files about various current clients, she tended to go to the cabinets immediately behind her desk. Could the files for old clients be on either side? Would she have filed Kaylene’s there? Where would she store the funders’ files?
It could take all night to pull each drawer and thumb through the sea of information. Emilie needed a strategy. She tugged on the first file drawer, but found it and the others locked. She turned to Rhoda’s desk and pulled out the junk drawer. Instead of an assortment of pens, erasers, paper clips, and other office supplies, Rhoda’s were neatly ordered to the point of compulsiveness. If she shifted the contents, Emilie had the feeling Rhoda would sense it as soon as she opened the drawer. So she settled for easing open the rest of the drawers, one at a time, and lightly fanning through the files, shifting them as little as possible.
Something was wrong with the last desk drawer. The contents didn’t go low enough to hit the true bottom. She eased back on the chair. To see why there was a gap, she’d have to remove the files. What would she find, and did she want to know it?
She eased the files out, careful to keep them in orderly piles for replacing. When the last files came out, she found a legal-sized expandable folder had been placed down on its flat side, creating a cheap false bottom. Emilie pulled it out and discovered a file resting beneath it. She eased it out and opened it. Kaylene’s file. She flipped through the pages and found several handwritten notes. Kaylene is regressing. Is it something happening at home? Could it be the gun safety classes? Are the challenges of escaping too real?
Why would Rhoda deny any knowledge of the gun if she had known all along about the classes?
Lindsey says she’s making progress, but is it fast enough? Need to get her out now. The date beside that note was only two weeks before Kaylene died. Why hadn’t Rhoda told her?