Curiosity Killed the Kat (5 page)

Standing in the checkout line with a cart full of groceries, my head was spinning. This was a real mystery
and it had landed in my lap. There must be a reason. If I thought about the concept of fate or destiny at all it was to reassure myself that my marriage to Steven was a gift from the universe. After all, I’d spent my childhood dreaming of a handsome man to take care of me and love me and I’d met Steven. What could be more divinely inspired than that, right?

But now I thought that this might be an act of fate too. What were the chances that Charlie would bring this girl to a dinner with us, and furthermore, was it any coincidence that Sana had decided to confide (almost) in me during that dinner? Certainly she had asked for my help and only the coldest, most unfeeling person could turn her back on a cry for help. If destiny wanted me to help this girl then destiny would show me the way. It was shaky, but I needed all the confidence I could get.

“Ma’am?” The cashier was trying to get my attention. “Will that be all?”

The other customers behind me shifted impatiently, I was holding up the line with my day dreaming about fate and mysteries. I felt silly and reached into my purse to get out my wallet and pay for the groceries; when my fingers couldn’t immediately find it a cold tingle of fear went down my spine. Frantically I searched my purse, even going so far as to overturn it onto the checkout stand to see the contents. It wasn’t there. My wallet wasn’t there. In my panic to leave the agency
I had left the wallet on the floor when I dropped my purse. It must have fallen under a chair because I didn’t remember leaving anything behind. Of course, I was so frantic and rushed I couldn’t be sure. For the first time I prayed I’d been mugged rather than the worse thought that I’d left my wallet in that agency. My wallet, which held my ID that plainly showed my real name. Katherine Flynn, not ‘Amanda.’

“I’m sorry,” I apologized the cashier and the customers behind me. “I must have lost my wallet. I’m
so
sorry.”

Red-faced,
I quickly moved out of the line and hurried toward the door. How could I have left my wallet in the agency? What was wrong with me? Some Nancy Drew I was making. My first day doing something for myself and I screw it up. It wouldn’t take long for the agency to make the connection between a Katherine Flynn asking about a mystery girl and their lawyer Steven Flynn. And how much longer would it take for them to contact Steven and ask them why his wife was in their offices asking about Sana.
Thank god Steven was out of town right now. His absence would buy me some time. But time to do what?

I had to come up with a plan. If
Steven found out about this and confronted me, he’d probably put a GPS on my car to make sure that I didn’t do anything else unapproved. I’d be on virtual lockdown, not to mention the sheer humiliation
of telling him about my suspicions about Charlie, his much-admired boss
. I didn’t want to get Sana in trouble by telling Steven that she’d asked me for help. What possible explanation could I give for being at the agency?

Sitting behind the wheel in my beloved Range Rover I tried to breathe deeply. Maybe it was possible that no one had found my wallet yet. After all, it had only been a few hours since I’d left. Maybe it was still lying on the floor somewhere. The best thing to do would be to bite the bullet and go back
, but how? The thought of facing that receptionist again made me cringe
.

And then a flash of inspiration hit me. It was close to the lunch hour. Surely
she
had to take a break for lunch, and when she left her desk I would run in, grab my wallet, and run out. It felt very cloak and dagger, but I was excited. It felt good to have a plan. Maybe this wouldn’t be the
mistake that ended my plan and my freedom.

For the second time that day I pulled into the parking garage next to the agency. At this rate, I’d need a parking pass. Looking around to make sure I was alone in the garage, I left the car and walked
across the street so I could see the entrance from the safety of the park. I felt ridiculous as I leaned against a tree and casually tried to peer into the front windows across the street. The glare of the light on the glass was making it hard to see if anyone was behind the desk. As I stood there craning my head this way and that trying to make out a figure in the office, I suddenly stood stock still and stared. Steven was coming out of the office with Charlie and another man I didn’t recognize.
Steven who had told me he would be in New York for the next two nights was actually still in Boston.

That was Steven standing right in front of me with his boss and another man
,
who I could only assume was the agency CEO, Mr. Fischer, and
he
was holding my wallet.

When the three men finally walked away together I raced back to my car and headed for home. It had felt like an hour that I’d stood in that park, huddled against the tree hardly daring to believe my eyes. How many other times had Steven lied about leaving town? What was he doing that he couldn’t tell me about and more importantly, what would he do now that he knew I’d been at the agency?

When I got to the house, I let myself into the back door with a sense of fear. Was Steven home? Thankfully the house felt empty and everything was still in its place where I’d left it. Checking the phone I was relieved to find the voicemail box empty. He hadn’t called. Clearly it appeared that
I would have to wait to find out what the consequences might be for my trip to the agency today. It seemed Steven wasn’t ready to blow his own story, if he called me today he’d have to explain how he came to have my wallet when he was supposed to be in New York. Knowing that I’d have to wait for his wrath was almost worse than getting it over with now.

Stop it. I commanded myself. Stop acting like a scared child waiting for her father to come home and start asking yourself why he’s still here in the first place. Why was he at the agency with Charlie? Time to start asking what he’s hiding instead of what you’re hiding.

I wished I had somebody to talk to about all this. I didn’t have any real friends, just acquaintances from the gym and some of the other wives from Steven’s firm. They were not the sort of friends I could call and discuss why my husband had lied to me about leaving town. Although I wasn’t positive, my instincts kept telling me that the only person that could give me any answers was Sana and I had no idea how to reach her. I didn’t even know if she was still in town.

Then it hit me. I knew where Charlie lived
; well, I knew where his address was
.
Steven had a home office and kept a rolodex on his desk. I was sure I’d seen Charlie’s address there when I was cleaning up.
I
f I was brave enough I
could go
to his house
and
talk to Sana
. Of course, I’d have to be careful and make sure Charlie wasn’t home, god forbid he catch me in his house, but I’d just seen him with Steven and Mr. Fischer so chances were good that they were all still out. If I was going to do this at all, this was the best and only opportunity I’d get. I had to move now.

Without giving myself time to think, I grabbed his address and my keys and jumped into the Rover. Thank god for GPS, while I waited for the navigation system to direct me I rehearsed what I would say to Sana.

“Sana,” I practiced. “I don’t want to scare you, but some strange things have happened today and I need you to explain what you’re doing here.”

No, I thought, that sounded very demanding and might scare her off.

“Hi Sana,” I started again, “I just stopped by to see if you were doing any better?”

Good lord no. I couldn’t say that to her, it sounded as if she’d been sick and I should be carrying chicken soup. I’d just have to be frank and to the point. After all, this wasn’t a social visit. I needed to know what was happening with her. This was more than helping a girl out of a difficult situation; if my husband was involved this was affecting my life too.

Just then the GPS came on and started navigating. I pulled into the street still practicing my opening lines. Scared of what I might find out, but more frightened of staying ignorant of the truth.

When I reached the street Charlie lived on, I drove a little past his house and parked on the opposite side of the street. It wasn’t the best
cover, but at least he wouldn’t see my car if he looked out onto the street. I sat there for a moment in silence, twisted in my seat, searching for any movement behind his windows. As the minutes ticked by I knew I’d have to take a chance and knock on the door. The longer I waited the more chance there would be that he would return home, if he wasn’t already there. The only way to know would be to roll the dice and knock. Just as I was reaching for the door handle fate smiled on me again. A UPS truck rolled up to the house and the driver bounded out holding a package. He knocked on the door and waited. No one came to the door. He knocked again and both the driver and I saw a face peek out from behind the living room curtains.

I could hear the delivery man say clearly, “Ma’am? I have a package I need a signature for please.”

Still the door remained shut.

“Ma’am?” the driver said with exasperation. “Can you please sign for this?”

When the door still didn’t open I could see the driver, plainly irritated, drop the box on the porch and walk back to his truck.

As soon as he pulled away I was out of the car and moving fast toward the front door.

“Sana,” I said, knocking. “Sana please open the door, it’s Katherine. We met last night at the restaurant remember?”

I silently prayed she would open the door quickly. I felt vulnerable and exposed on the porch.

“Sana,” I continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you last night. I want to try and help if I can. Will you please let me in?”

Slowly I could hear the locks turning, but when the door finally opened I gasped in surprise. It wasn’t Sana standing in front of me.

This girl was just as beautiful as Sana, but she looked younger, almost like a teenager. She had dark curly hair and blue eyes
. Where Sana had been tall and glamorous, this girl was petite and dainty. The similarity was in the eyes. She had the same expression of trepidation and fear that Sana had last night.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Do you know Sana?” She demanded.

Her voice was thick with an accent I couldn’t place. It was hard to understand her and I hesitated. In that moment
I noticed that her creamy skin was blotchy and red, and she was cradling her arm gently as if it hurt her.

“Yes, I met Sana last night. Is she here?”

At this question the girl started crying and ran out of the room. Wordlessly I followed her back into the kitchen.

Spinning around the girl brandished a knife at me and I jumped back in confusion and terror.

“What are you doing?” I screamed. “I’m here to help Sana, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Sana was with you last night. You helped him do something to her!” She insisted, still holding the knife in front of her.

“Please,” I begged, “please put the knife down and tell me what’s going on. I swear to you that I didn’t hurt Sana. She left the restaurant with Charlie and that’s the last time I saw her. I promise. I’m not lying. I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

Warily she looked at me and slowly lowered the knife
back to the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she said haltingly, “I’m so afraid.”

“I understand.” I reached out to her carefully. “I’m very confused. Did someone hurt Sana?”

“The man, Charlie, he told her to get dressed. He said he was taking her somewhere. We were scared, but he gave her a dress to wear and told her to put it on. She didn’t have a choice.” She stopped and looked at me pleadingly.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I understand, please keep talking. What happened after she put on the dress?”

“They left. When they came back he was angry. I don’t know why. He pushed me downstairs and locked the door. I could hear him yelling at Sana. He was hitting her and she was crying. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, he just kept hitting her.”

She had started to cry again
, silently, her shoulders shaking. I felt powerless standing there, I was so stunned by what she was saying that I didn’t know what to say or do to help.

“What happened then,” I asked, afraid to hear her answer. “Where is Sana now?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking up at me with big, scared eyes. “I don’t know.”

I just stood there silent. When I was thinking about the scenarios that would involve Sana asking for help, actual violence didn’t cross my mind. Steven was right, I was naïve and stupid. I actually thought that maybe she was having an immigration problem or something else simple. Even though the evidence had been staring me in the face, I didn’t really think that something this real, this dangerous, was actually taking place. This kind of thing didn’t happen in my world. It happened
in books
or
on TV
to other people; I didn’t feel equipped to handle this.