Chapter 5 - The Smile at My Door
Detective Cole drove me home.
Vanessa was standing outside my apartment when we reached the second floor.
She carried a white bakery box.
Somehow, that made me angrier than if she had brought a knife.
“Lena,” she said warmly. “I wanted to check on you.”
Cole stepped out from behind me.
“Ms. Price.”
Vanessa’s smile held for half a second too long.
“Detective. How nice.”
“How did you get this address?”
“The restaurant has employee records.”
“Did Mr. Mercer give it to you?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“I brought pastries.”
“I don’t want them.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
I stared at her.
“You dropped a baby.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I dropped nothing intentionally.”
Cole moved between us.
“You need to leave.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No. You’re being told the person who lives here does not want you here.”
Vanessa set the box on the floor.
“I was only trying to be kind.”
She walked past us, perfume trailing behind her.
Halfway down the stairs, she stopped.
“Lena?”
I hated that she knew my name.
“People will look into you, you know. Once this gets public.”
Cole answered before I could.
“Keep walking.”
Vanessa did.
Inside my apartment, I locked both locks and stood with my back against the door.
My place was small enough that the kitchen clock could be heard from every room. A secondhand couch. A table with one uneven leg. My mother’s blue mug beside the sink.
I suddenly felt exposed.
Cole took photographs of the bakery box and wrote down what Vanessa had said.
“Is there anything you think she might use against you?”
I laughed once.
“I’m poor. Pick a drawer.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I looked at the floor.
“Two years ago, I borrowed three hundred dollars from the restaurant register.”
Cole stopped writing.
“I left an IOU. My mother needed a prescription. Paul said I could take it.”
“Did he put that in writing?”
“No.”
“Did you repay it?”
“Out of my next two checks.”
“Do you have the pay stubs?”
“Probably.”
“Find them.”
After she left, I spent an hour digging through envelopes.
At eleven forty, my phone began lighting up.
A local gossip account had posted a photograph of me carrying a tray.
WAITRESS IN BABY DRAMA HAS HISTORY OF STEALING FROM EMPLOYER.
Underneath was a statement attributed to Paul Mercer.
May you like
And below that, a picture of Vanessa holding Oliver.
The caption called her a devoted future mother.
