“It’s not. I think someone has been following me.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“I thought I’d be okay.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Worried. Harry was right. Jasmine Alfredo doesn’t want me asking questions about her charities. What am I going to do?” She felt sick just thinking about someone being inside her apartment—about what could have happened if she’d been home.
“You know you can’t stay here, don’t you?”
Ashley took a deep breath. “I don’t have a choice. I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“You could stay with me. My roommates won’t mind another person in our apartment.”
“I can’t do that. Whoever’s looking for me might come after you, too.”
Bonnie sighed. “I guess that rules out Harry as well. What about your dad? I know you haven’t spoken to him for a while, but you could stay with him.”
“He lives in San Francisco. I haven’t seen him since he married Trisha.”
“You could easily finish your story from San Francisco. If there’s anything you can’t do from there, Harry and I could help.”
Ashley shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. I can’t leave New York and expect to still have a job on Monday.”
“You’ve got plenty of vacation time owing. I’ll tell your editor that you had a family emergency.” Bonnie frowned at the windows overlooking the street. She held her finger to her lips and moved across to the light switches.
Ashley didn’t know what she was doing, but she wasn’t about to second-guess her best friend.
With the lights turned off, Bonnie moved quickly to the other side of the room. Lifting the edge of a curtain, she peered onto the street below.
Ashley looked over her shoulder. When Bonnie pointed to a man on the sidewalk, she frowned. No one would be silly enough to stay close to the place they’d broken into—unless they hadn’t found what they wanted.
When the same man walked past her apartment five minutes later, Ashley looked at Bonnie.
“What now?”
“Pack,” Bonnie whispered. “I know where you can stay.”
***
Ashley’s cell phone beeped. “He’s here.” She picked up her suitcases and took a deep breath.
Mr. Stokes from apartment 3C stood beside Mrs. Moretti. The long black coat he was wearing made him look dignified in an understated, elegant way. At seventy-six years of age, he definitely didn’t look like a decoy for a woman on the run.
Mrs. Moretti straightened the collar of her coat. “Remember—hurry to your friend’s car, Ashley. Mr. Stokes and I will do everything you have asked.” She held Ashley’s hand before opening her apartment door. “Godspeed to you, my dear. Are you ready Mr. Stokes?”
He nodded and tipped the brim of his hat. “Always, Nedda.”
“I will see you outside for a disagreement of Sicilian proportions.” Mrs. Moretti walked out of her apartment and opened the main doors of the building.
Mr. Stokes smiled at Ashley. “Be safe. I expect a full report when this is over.”
She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Best fun I’ve had in ages,” he said as he disappeared into the hallway.
Bonnie counted to thirty, then opened the door. She looked left and right before waving Ashley forward. “The coast is clear.”
