Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“That’s so kind of you, but you should probably check with Kelly first.”
“Really?”
“You know what? She won’t like it, but I’ll make an executive decision. Yes, please do change the schedule. Kelly needs some time to recuperate.”
“It’s done.” Lois clicks on her phone and then puts it back in her pocket.
“We both appreciate it.”
“It’s not a problem. Please tell Kelly not to be shy about asking for what she needs here. The Glass House management and owners are friends to the Wolfe family, and we will accommodate Kelly in any way we can.”
“Thank you.”
Lois nods and whisks away from the table toward the break room.
But a minute later she’s back, her face pale.
“Mr. Ramsey?”
“Yes? What is it?”
“Come with me please. It’s Kelly.”
My heart thrums as I rise, ready to face battle. I bolt to the back of the restaurant through the break room and into the women’s room.
Kelly is lying in a fetal position, tears rolling out of her eyes.
The stench of vomit hangs in the air.
I go to her, lie down on the floor, cradle her against my body. “Kelly? Kelly, baby. What happened?”
She doesn’t reply, just continues her silent sobbing.
“She’s been sick,” Lois says. “The sink is clogged with puke.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. We’ve seen worse in our bathrooms. Custodial will be in soon and they’ll take care of it.”
“Kelly, can you come with me?” I ask softly.
Her tears continue to roll, but she nods.
“Good.” I kiss her. Then I rise, hold out my hands for her.
She stretches her legs, but she still stays lying on the floor. So I kneel and help her into a sitting position.
“Lois has to have the bathrooms cleaned, Kelly. We need to leave.”
She looks up. “Yeah.”
I stand again, and this time she takes my hand and allows me to pull her up next to me. “Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Let’s get you home.”
She shakes her head then. “No. We have to call the police, Leif. We have to call the police.”
I’m surprised at her statement, given her run-in with the police this morning. “Why? What happened?”
“He was here, Leif.” She hiccups, her voice shaking. “The Dark One.”
“The Dark One?”
“Mr. Smith. The one who sent me the texts. The letter. The man from the island. He was here.”
Rage pulses through me.
It’s an old feeling. One I know well. When Wolf died. When that suicide bomber killed Buck’s woman. When those motherfuckers came into my cell and did things to me that no one should ever have to endure.
Rage.
It starts in my stomach, in the pit of my gut. My internal organs clench together, hardening with blood. It flows outward, burning through my veins and up my spine, until it bites the back of my neck, making me insane.
He was here?
In this bathroom? With the woman I love?
I gaze into her tired blue eyes, my own on fire. “What? Here? In this bathroom? With you?”
She nods, hiccupping again.
“Did you scream? My God, I’ll never forgive myself if I didn’t hear you scream.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She shakes her head again. “But he said he killed Brindley. And he said he’d be back.”
“Kelly, what did he want?”
She pauses a moment, swallowing. Then, “Me.”
“Over my fucking dead body,” I say through clenched teeth. “Did he touch anything? Was he wearing gloves?”
“I… I don’t know. All I saw was his hair, his eyes, his white mask, just like on the island. But he didn’t touch anything. He didn’t touch me.”
“He must’ve touched the door to get into the bathroom. We’ll have to have it dusted for prints.”
Lois, who’s been standing frozen until now, comes to life. “Right. I’m going to call the police right away. Right now.”
“Do you have security cameras?” I ask.
“Yes, of course. But not in the break room or the bathrooms. I’ll check with the kitchen. Maybe someone saw him come in.” She leaves the bathroom, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she goes.
“Kelly, baby. Did he give you anything? Did he make you swallow anything? Is that why you got sick?”
“No. I threw up after he left. I… I just…”
I press two fingers over her lips. No need for her to explain. The encounter made her sick. The poor thing is exhausted, and the fright of seeing him… It’s a wonder all she did was throw up.
And now I have to tell her that the police are coming, and we’re going to have to stay here and talk to them.
Again.
“Come on, baby. Come out with me to the dining room. We’ll sit at one of the booths where you can be comfortable.” I lead her out of the bathroom and into the break room, and then I notice the couch lining one wall. “Better yet, I want you to lie down on the couch. That will be much more comfortable than a dining room table.”