and, yogurt in hand, let herself into the office. Outside on Elizabeth Street, a vehicle rumbled along the pavement, probably a van making an early morning delivery to a local shop, but that, and the hum of the refrigerator in the galley kitchen, were the only sounds. Everything seemed normal. Except it wasn’t, of course.
She texted the contractor at the Greenwich Village apartment and told him she would be stopping by late that afternoon to do a check on the work. Originally she had planned to pop in there on Saturday or Sunday, but that was before people had wreaked havoc in her life.
Next she emailed her client Barry Kaplan, the fifty-something bachelor who she’d mostly ignored for the past couple of weeks. She wanted to do good by him. His wife had filed for divorce the moment the last kid was out of college, and he still seemed shell-shocked from the break-up. But Kit’s mind had been in such a muddle lately, she hadn’t been able to come up with a concept for his apartment. She informed him that she was still pulling thoughts together but hoped to have a proposal for him shortly.
Then there was Keith Holt. That would be a rewarding job, both creatively and financially. She emailed him a letter of agreement and reminded him to begin collecting tear sheets and pictures. “Don’t overthink it,” she told him. “Just pick images that grab you instantly.”
Finally, at around eight, she turned her attention to the Avery Howe project. She’d already managed to pull together ideas for furniture, but she had yet to make a dent in fabric selection. She started searching fabric houses online, hunting for material in bleached blues and yellows, as well as subtle prints. As soon as Baby and Dara arrived, she would head uptown to pull swatches.
Though a dread of slipping behind had managed to keep her focused on her work for an hour or so, Kit’s thoughts eventually found their way back to Kelman. The choice was obvious. She had to meet with him, and she needed to make the call today. Right now he seemed willing to communicate with her but that could change, particularly with him on the run, and she couldn’t allow the opportunity to escape.
If only she could validate more of what he had told her yesterday. Yes, he was Garrett Kelman, but had he really been Healy’s friend? She wondered if there was any way of proving that. Knowing he’d told the truth about his relationship with Healy would ease her fears a little. It would reduce the likelihood in her mind that Kelman had mowed Healy down with his car.
An idea started to take shape. Healy’s building had a concierge, and if she handled it shrewdly, she might be able to extract from him whether X had stayed at the apartment. She didn’t even have to double-check the address. It was still etched in her brain. She decided that as soon as she collected fabric samples, she would swing by the building and try to elicit the information from the concierge.
At just after nine, a key twisted in the lock to the office door. Even though she knew it was either Baby or Dara, Kit still jumped at the sound. A moment later, Baby stepped into the office. Her expression, until she spotted Kit at her desk, was hesitant, wary, as if she was on guard for the worst.
“Morning,” Kit said, smiling. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier to set eyes on Baby.
“You okay?” Baby asked, dropping her spring coat onto one of the wrought iron pegs in the entranceway. “I was barely able to sleep thinking about you all alone here.”
“I’m hanging in there.”
As Baby entered the main part of the office, she caught sight of the door alarm, which Kit had removed earlier and set on a small table.
“Oh goodness, so this is your fancy new alarm system?”
“Yup, pretty impressive, right? Maybe they should try using these at the White House.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my place?”
“I appreciate the offer, Baby, but I think I’m okay for now. But there is a new development I want to share with you.” Kit had decided last night that as much as she hated burdening Baby, she needed to loop her in about Garrett Kelman’s visit. “Why don’t you make your cappuccino, get settled, and then I’ll fill you in.”
Baby raised one of her perfectly arched blond eyebrows, both curious and