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“Ah, the hell with it,” Alex said. “Sure. I can grab a drink. Where and when?”
The girl smiled. “The Old Ticket Office at eight. It’ll just be me and a couple girlfriends. I could swing by and we could go together. That way you’re not walking into the pub with your ass in hat.”
The idiom pinged some vague memory in Alex’s mind. Was it a warning or just confusion? Whichever, it was too faint to make more than a ripple when it splashed into her subconscious.
“Where are you from?” Laverne asked. “I mean, America, obviously. But what part?”
Alex paused, fighting the colliding thoughts as her mind worked to figure out what had bothered her a moment before. She had always avoided talking about herself to other students.
“You all right there, mate?” Laverne asked.
“Uh, Chicago.”
“Really? The blowing city, isn’t it called?”
“The windy city.”
“That’s it.” Laverne shrugged. “I don’t have any mates from the States. You’ll be my first.”
Alex smiled. She hadn’t had a friend for quite some time.
“Where do you live?” Laverne asked. “I’ll stop over and pick you up on my way. We’ll be best mates for the night.”
As if Alex were helpless to stop it, her address slipped from her lips while Laverne punched it into her phone.
“About a quarter to eight?” Laverne asked.
Alex swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Sounds good.”
CHAPTER 13
Friday, October 2, 2015 Cambridge, England 7:45 p.m.
THERE WAS A KNOCK ON HER DOOR, JUST AS PROMISED, AT A QUARTER to eight. Throughout the afternoon Alex had gone through wild mood swings about her absurd acceptance of the mailbox girl’s invitation. She was confused as to why she had so willingly offered up her address rather than just agreeing to meet at the bar. The confusion had morphed into regret. Regret had then become desperation as she’d realized that giving Laverne her address meant there was no way out of the situation. They hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers, which would have allowed Alex to cancel through a text message. She was now left with two options: One, hide in her flat and refuse to answer the door. Or, two, answer the door and act like a normal college student who goes out with friends. If the night grew boring, Alex could make a quiet exit and escape back to her flat without rousing anyone’s feathers. For a split second she even considered that meeting new people could be fun, and having someone to call a friend would be a good thing, not something to run from.
She walked to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it. Laverne stood in the hallway. A guy stood next to her.
“There she is!” Laverne said in a jovial voice. “Thought you stood me up there for a second.”
Alex smiled and swallowed hard. “No, no. I was just getting ready. Were you knocking long? I must not have heard you.”
Without invitation, Laverne walked into the flat. “No worries, mate. This is Drew. You guys have met.”
It took Alex a second to place him before she remembered Samuel McEwen’s assistant from her meeting at the bank. Drew was the guy who had greeted her in the lobby of the Sparhafen Bank in Zürich. Her first question was what the hell he was doing in Cambridge. Her second was why he was in her flat. Her third, and final, was how she could have been so stupid to give this girl her address.
Drew closed the door and smiled at her, twisting the deadbolt into place and sending Alex’s stomach into a free fall.
“Hi, Alexandra,” Drew said, his smile stretching farther across his face. “That would be Alexandra Quinlan, of McIntosh, Virginia.”
The mention of her hometown started the production of acid that burned the bottom of her esophagus and began a quick march up her sternum. Alex swallowed again to dispel the burn.
“Not Chicago, mate,” Laverne said. “The windy city? That’s the best you could come up with?”
Laverne walked deeper into the flat, looking around as if she were shopping in a department store. She picked up a figurine that sat on the table by the couch, examined it for a moment before placing it back down. In the living room, she pulled the curtains aside and looked down onto the street.
“I recognized you straight away,” Drew said, still standing in front of the bolted door. “The hair threw me off at first, but then I saw your eyes. No one can miss those eyes.”
“Those empty fucking eyes will give you away every time,” Laverne said, turning from the front window and walking toward her.
