“Nothing will happen.”
“I hope for your sake you’re right.” She stuck out her hand and hailed a cab. “What did Harry tell you when you saw him this morning?”
“To be careful.”
Bonnie’s eyebrows rose. “And you consider listening to a conversation between Jasmine Alfredo and Congressman Welsh, being careful?”
“That happened before I saw Harry. And I wasn’t listening—I wasn’t close enough to hear everything. All I heard was the occasional word.”
“It’s called stalking,” Bonnie whispered. “You shouldn’t have been at the café this morning. What if Jasmine or Congressman Welsh recognized you?”
Ashley didn’t tell her about the weird feeling she’d had all week—it would only freak her out. They climbed into a cab and she gave the driver her address.
On the way to her apartment, Bonnie didn’t say anything. Every time Ashley started to speak, Bonnie held her hand in the air. It wasn’t until they were standing outside her apartment building that her friend broke her silence.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You said yourself that this could be the story of the year. This is why I became a reporter.”
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for?’”
Ashley opened her apartment building’s front door. “Once or twice.”
“Take more notice next time.”
They stepped into the foyer and Mrs. Moretti, Ashley’s well-meaning, eccentric, neighbor, opened her apartment door.
She waved her hand at them, beckoning them forward. “You need to come with me,” she whispered.
Ashley was used to Mrs. Moretti’s dramatic personality, but Bonnie wasn’t.
“What’s happened?” Bonnie asked in an equally low whisper.
“There was a man. He was tall…” Mrs. Moretti held her hand above her head. “He came looking for Ashley. He had…how do you say?…a roughness to his person. Like the men in Sicily who do no good.”
Bonnie swayed.
Ashley grabbed her arm and pulled her into Mrs. Moretti’s apartment.
“To the living room,” Mrs. Moretti instructed. “Shoo my kitty cats. Make way for Ashley’s friend.”
Three elderly cats moved with surprising speed out of the room.
“Over here,” Mrs. Moretti said as she rushed to an overstuffed sofa. She opened an orange and pink crochet blanket and wrapped it around Bonnie’s shoulders. “You are in shock—this will make you feel better. I will make a cup of tea.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Moretti. Bonnie will be fine—she’s had a big day, that’s all.”
“You and your big days. A little tea never hurt anyone. You wait here. I have cake, too.”
Bonnie had a dazed look in her eyes as she absorbed the colorful chaos of Mrs. Moretti’s living room. “Am I still in New York?”
“I don’t know. If Harry were here, he’d say we’ve just enteredThe Twilight Zone.”
Bonnie took a deep breath and pushed the blanket off her shoulders. “Who do you think was looking for you?”
“It could have been anyone.” Ashley tried not to let Bonnie know how worried she was. Harry’s words kept repeating inside her head, telling her she should have been more careful. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Ashley found Mrs. Moretti in the kitchen, adding boiling water to her teapot. “Mrs. Moretti, could you tell me what happened to the man who was looking for me?”
