Laid Bare - Lauren Dane [43]
“She’s not here. She won’t be here tomorrow either. Probably not Friday. Tomorrow is June sixteenth, the anniversary of the attack, of Adele’s death. She goes into lockdown every year for a few days. She wasn’t too bad yesterday. I’d begun to think it wasn’t going to be bad this year, but Ella, her assistant manager, got a call saying Erin wouldn’t be in for a few days and could she just open for two hours in the mornings for the coffee rush.”
“Why are you here? Is Adrian with her?”
“She’s alone. Holed up in her fortress of solitude. I can get into the building, even past the doorman who knows me. But I can’t get in her front door. I tried.” Brody held up a key ring attached to the chain at his waist. “It didn’t work. She gets new locks a few times a year.” He exhaled, pinching off the end of his cigarette and tossing it into the trash. “Adrian tried, same deal. We went to the doorman, but he shined us on.”
Todd’s heart raced at the thought of her all alone and suffering. “I’m going over there. My business partner is quite handy with picking locks. Is she all right? Should we just call 911? She wouldn’t harm herself?”
“No. She knows the pain of losing someone; she wouldn’t do it to me and Adrian. But she’ll be in rough shape I’d wager.”
“I’m going over there right now. Thank you.”
“Call me.” Brody handed him a business card. “So Aid and I know she’s all right.”
Todd nodded as he jogged back through the shop toward his car. On the way, he called Ben and told him to get his ass down to her building ASAP.
14
“Okay, here’s the deal, I know the codes to get upstairs and also her internal code on her alarm.” Ben held up a hand. “Don’t ask how. I just do.”
Ben punched some numbers into the pad on the elevator from the lobby and they rose skyward.
“I brought you an overnight bag.” Ben held it out. “I had Cope shove your toothbrush and some underwear in it. A few T-shirts. Don’t get mushy. We just figured you might need them.”
Todd smiled his thanks. When they exited the elevator, they went to Erin’s door and knocked. She didn’t answer. There was no noise from inside and Todd shielded Ben with his body as his friend made very quick work of all three locks.
“Get her to put a chain lock on, will you? I like her, she sucks at cards, but she never gives up. Strong.” Ben opened the door and stepped inside, where he punched numbers into an internal keypad stationed behind a pretty wall panel. “Go. I’m out of here. Call me if you need anything.”
Todd took a deep breath, sent a thank-you to Ben and shut and locked the door behind himself.
“Erin?” he called out. He tried to calm himself enough to walk slowly, but his fear, the fear born of walking into more than one crime scene and finding disaster, made him jog into the main room.
A mess. Not her normal level of artsy-fartsy chaos—scribbled song lyrics, colorful batik-patterned scarves, bags, books and bass and acoustic guitars. No, this was disquieting. Takeout containers left on countertops. Empty soda cans. Clearly her descent had been happening for several days. Even as she’d been working and smiling to his face, she’d been aching inside.
He walked through and a stack of photographs caught his eye. He picked them up and saw Erin with short, inky-black hair, holding a chubby, cake-faced one-year-old. The baby had her mother’s eyes, and mischief as well as frosting on her face. Erin in the picture was the Erin he’d met ten years ago. Fearless because she held the best thing on Earth.
“Erin? Goddammit, where are you?” He put the picture down carefully and stepped over a pile of stuff to head back down the hall where the bedroom was.
Her office was empty, but thank god it wasn’t trashed.
He heard something in her room and rushed inside. She was there, lying on her bed. An empty vodka bottle lay on the