ass chewed about not handing it over, it’s on you, lady.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to sleep tonight worrying about it,” she shot back.
He threw the envelope down—telling her there probably wasn’t a bomb in it since nothing went “boom!” She watched him go over to the stairs and disappear. She went to the front window of the apartment and looked down at the sidewalk. After a few seconds she saw a man coming out of the building. He looked like the guy who was just at her door, but it was hard to tell. The street was well lit, but she was pretty far up.
She went over to the door and looked out the peephole again. The hallway was still empty. She considered calling Branden before she opened the door and picked up the package, and then chastised herself. Hadn’t she just been telling herself she couldn’t rely on him? She had to take care of herself, just like always.
She took a deep breath, unlocked the door, reached out quickly, and grabbed it. Then she slammed the door and relocked it. She felt silly about the way her heart was pounding in her chest. Branden’s talk earlier about her needing “protection” was playing tricks on her mind.
She carried the package over to the sofa and sat down with it. It had her name on the front, but no other writing, no postmark, no packing slip…nothing. She started to open it before deciding being safe was better than being sorry. Feeling extremely paranoid now, she went to the bathroom and got a pair of rubber cleaning gloves. She went back over to the sofa and opened the envelope, sliding the contents out onto the table in front of her. It was a stack of paperwork that had her name on it.
Cara reached down and picked up the paperwork. It was some kind of dossier. The first page was a list of her demographics: address, phone number, workplace, work address, work number. Iris was listed as a “known associate” and at the bottom of the page were her parents’ names: Carolyn and Hank Finch.
She turned the page. There were copies of her driver’s license, her passport, Social Security card…
What the hell is this?
She turned another page, and there was evidence of her graduation from the University of Pennsylvania, pictures of her at different social gatherings with an old boyfriend from college, pictures of her with her mother, pictures of her with Iris and…
A picture of her father.
For a few seconds she smiled as she looked at it. Then she realized the photo had been taken from the local paper in her town when her father had been disgraced and accused of things he hadn’t done. Her smile disappeared, her face flushed, and her hands shook.
She tossed it down on the coffee table and that was when she saw the last page with pictures of her and Branden.
Oh, God.
The photos were of her going into his apartment the night before. His body was framed in the doorway as he let her in, and then there was one of her sneaking out the next morning. He lived in one of the most secure buildings in the city. How could this be?
She was both confused and frightened. Why would someone have all of this information on her and her family, and why would they leave it on her doorstep, specifically wanting her to have it? Why had they taken photos of her and Branden? And again, how?
She picked up the phone and called Branden.
“Is everything okay?” he answered.
She tried to keep her voice level as she spoke. She didn’t want him to think she was a whiner who couldn’t handle her own business. “Someone delivered a manila envelope, and it’s full of information about me. It goes all the way back to when I was a kid. There are also pictures of us in it from last night, pictures that had to be taken in the hallway of your secure building.”
“Damn it,” he spat out.
“Who would spend all that time gathering all of that information and then just have it delivered to my door…and why?”
“I don’t know, Cara. But I’m not comfortable with you staying there alone. Not until we figure this all out. Come to me.”
As soon as he said the words, she wanted to. Wanted to rush into his strong arms and let him help her. She wanted it too much. “This is my home. Besides, the pictures of us are being