Vivienne peers at me like I’m an alien life-form. The corners of her mouth lift, but it’s not exactly a smile.
“Bob, you heard me. Now do what I said,” she continues, thentaps to end the call, eyes still locked on mine as she drops her phone into her purse. “Now …whoare you?”
It feels like a trap.
“I’m Kat McHugh’s daughter,” I repeat with an unfortunate waver to my voice. “She’s a lawyer at—”
“Oh, I know who Kat is,” she says. “I just can’t believe she sent her daughter here. It’s—”
“She didn’t send me here. I—”
“Brave,” she finishes, eyes widening at my interruption. “Good lord, you do look exactly like her. She mentioned that once.” She leans in so close, like she’s checking to see how I smell. “Except …” She motions dismissively to my dress. “Never pretend to be someone you’re not. It’s ineffective. And it undermines your credibility.”
My eyes start to burn. I’m not even sure exactly why. I blink a few times, but that only seems to make it worse. Vivienne looks away, shifts her weight, then clears her throat.
“Anyway, let me guess. You want an internship?”
“An intern—”
“Your mom shouldn’t have sent you here when she knows I’m not happy with her. So don’t go around telling peopleI’mmean or unsupportive of young women or a dragon lady.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “That’s exactly how rumors get started. And your momshouldbe calling me back. I’m herclient.She can’t ignore me because I got a little mad.” She shrugs. “I’m entitled to my feelings, just like anyone else.”
“You texted that you were going tokill her.”
“That was weeks ago. And it’s confidential!” Vivienne shouts. “What were you doing reading her texts with clients? Those are all attorney-client-privileged.” And then her eyes narrow. “Oh, wait, you’re trying to blackmail me, aren’t you? Your mom doesn’t even know you’re here. Are you hooked on Oxy or fentanyl or bath salts or some shit?”
“No!” I shout back, a little more loudly than I intended. I can see the doorman watching us now out of the corner of his eye.
But Vivienne’s not even listening. She’s digging around in her bag, muttering to herself about fucking lawyers fucking thinking that they know more than everybody else. She stabs at her phone and puts it to her ear. “Your mother better hope that you read those textswithouther permission, or I swear to God I’ll have her disbarred.”
“She’s not going to answer,” I say.
“We’ll see about that.”
“She’s missing. Her phone is off. Shecan’tanswer.”
Vivienne still has the phone to her ear. “What are you talking about? I just spoke to her.” The color drains from her face in a way that would be very hard to fake. She didn’t know my mom is missing. “Well, notjust—but like a day ago.”
“She disappeared last night. The police are investigating.”
“The police?” My mom’s outgoing voice mail message is playing on Vivienne’s phone. She sounds very small and very far away on the other end. Vivienne ends the call and puts her phone in her bag. “Disappeared? Wait, what happened to her?”
I shrug. “We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She sounds annoyed still, but she looks worried. “So far theTimeshasn’t run their article. I haven’t even heard from that reporter in like … actually, maybe forty-eight hours. Hmm … The least your mom could do, though, is call and actually confirm that it’s been handled, instead of leaving me wondering.” But her heart isn’t really in it anymore.
“Did you hear what I said?” I snap. “She’smissing.There was blood in our house and broken glass. There’s a bloody shoe. My mom isgone.What is wrong with you?”
She shoots me an angry look, then frowns as she fidgets with her bag. Finally, she looks away. “Well, how was I supposed to know any of that?”
“Soyoudon’t know anything about what happened to her?”
“You thinkIdid something to her?” She laughs—brittle and sharp.
I shrug. “Somebody did …”
A storm cloud passes across Vivienne’s face. “Fair enough,” she says. “If I were you, I’d come for me, too. That’s … logical. What day did this happen?”
“Yesterday. Around six-thirty p.m.”
