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She hadn’t really thought through her whole craft project yet. The legs of the table were bulky shelves. José placed her library books there. Evelyn pulled them out and flipped through the one about jewelry making. Her fingers tapped the surface of the table as she spaced out, thinking random, weightless thoughts and passing a good part of the hour.
Finally, without giving it much thought, she went to find her shoes. Slipping into her leather boots, she wrapped a navy blue scarf around her neck. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out two hundred dollars and stuffed it into the inside pocket of her Dolce & Gabbana purse. Zipping it tight, she found her coat and key, and left.
Evelyn took the gilded elevator to the thirtieth floor, then walked past the elevators that dropped guests into the lobby. She took the one delivering guests to the fitness center. Moving quickly, with her head lowered, she hurried down the hall, past the gym, past the indoor pool, and out the side entrance.
The cold March morning air cut down the collar of her coat and she tightened her scarf. She should have grabbed a real scarf. This one was nothing more than an accessory. Looking left, then right, she saw no one she recognized and quickly headed east, away from the front of the hotel.
It was still fairly early, and the morning rush of pedestrian traffic mostly moved into the commercial district to settle in with their first cups of coffee for the day. The sidewalks were fairly vacant, lacking the blending roar of the footed rush hour of Folsom. Cabs busily chauffeured people where they needed to go, and as the cold, blustery morning again cut through her clothes, Evelyn considered hailing a taxi for herself.
She didn’t really have a plan. She only knew she had several hours until Lucian returned and this would likely be her only chance.
“Ms. Keats!”
Spine stiffening, Evelyn turned and saw a man in the unmistakable Patras uniform chasing after her. He held a phone to his ear and ran awkwardly through a cluster of pedestrians.
Are you kidding me?
Decision made, she threw up her hand and a yellow cab pulled quickly to the curb.
“Ms. Keats!” the man called again as she slammed the door.
“The old St. Christopher’s church,” she said as her heart raced. “Go!”
The Patras employee neared just as the cab pulled away. She felt bad for whoever the man was. Twisting in her seat, she stared out the rear window of the cab as his shoulders drooped and he spoke into a phone, despair clear on his face.
“You know that church ain’t open no more,” the cabby said. His voice spoke of too many cigarettes, and the scent of the cab’s interior confirmed he was a smoker.
“I know.”
“Girl like you shouldn’t be in that section of town alone. You picking someone up?”
“I don’t know.” It honestly all depended on if she found Parker and how he was doing.
The driver was quiet the rest of the way as he navigated down the busy streets. She tapped her foot anxiously and fiddled with the zipper of her purse. If Lucian was in a meeting he wouldn’t be disturbed. Seth, his assistant, knew better than to interrupt Lucian when he had important clients in town. She hoped whenever Seth got the call advising she’d left without Dugan that such would be the case. If Lucian was occupied she would at least have somewhat of a chance to find Parker and get back to Patras safe and sound so she could prove he had nothing to worry about.
Her cell phone buzzed. Unzipping her bag, she pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was a missed call from Dugan.
“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath. People probably escaped the Nazis easier than one could escape Lucian’s paid staff.
Not wanting the bother or the heartburn, she shut off her phone and stuffed it back in her bag. Twenty minutes later the cab pulled up in front of St. Christopher’s. It was so familiar and at the same time different.
Lucian had funded a great deal of the renovations. The church and old school had new roofs, and the stone facing had all been repointed. The concrete steps were redone, and the dilapidated railing going up the center was now gone, replaced by a brand new sturdy one. There were no cars in the lot, but she expected that. Residents had to be out of the shelter by eight and couldn’t return until curfew.
“I told you. Nobody’s here.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Thank you.” Handing the money over the front seat, she reached for the door.
“You want me to wait?” the driver asked.
There was no point in him sticking around. She knew Parker could be hiding in a ton of places by this time of day. She was going to have to walk back, but she’d made that walk a hundred times before.
