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“Thank you,” she whispered.
He tilted her chin up. “Hang on to that thought,” he said, smiling, “after you discover that my house isn’t much bigger than this room.”
• • •
He told her about her phone just before they left their room.
Her face went white.
“What? Are you telling me that—that this person inserted something into my phone? That he has been following me by—by listening to my calls?”
Chay assured her that the program didn’t work that way.
“The bug isn’t designed to hear calls, only to bounce signals off a satellite that tracks where the phone goes.”
“Where I go, you mean.”
He’d deliberately tried to make the bug’s function sound impersonal, but there was noting impersonal about Bianca’s reaction. She was upset. Very. And though he hated seeing her like that, he knew her reaction at least meant that her final mental resistance to leaving the city was gone.
They took the elevator to the car rental office on the garage level, where Chay made a quick detour to a trash can. He dropped Bianca’s phone into it. The phone was fully charged and it would continue broadcasting their location from the hotel. Tomorrow, when trash was picked up, her cellphone would broadcast their supposed travels through Manhattan.
By then, they’d be long gone.
The car he’d rented was waiting. Chay signed a few documents and they were on their way.
Bianca phoned Lacey on Chay’s phone as they drove off. When Lacey answered, Bianca put her on speakerphone.
“Lacey,” she said briskly, “it’s Bianca. Would it be okay to stop by your place for a minute?”
Lacey sounded puzzled. Why wouldn’t she? She and Bianca had gone to lunch a couple of times, but nothing more.
“It’s important,” Bianca said quickly. “And—and I’ll have a friend with me. Okay?”
“A friend?”
Chay put his hand on Bianca’s thigh. “A building inspector,” he mouthed.
Bianca nodded. “Actually, he’s a friend who is a building inspector.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t mean to sound mysterious… We’ll only take a few minutes of your time, I promise.”
“You’ve got my curiosity up,” Lacey said, laughing. “Sure. Come on over.”
She lived on the Upper West Side. Sunday traffic was relatively light, but it took a few minutes to find a parking space. Then Chay and Bianca hurried back the couple of blocks to Lacey’s building and walked up three flights to her apartment.
Chay put his hand over Bianca’s as she reached for the doorbell.
“Remember,” he said, “let me do most of the talking, okay?”
She nodded and he stepped back so Lacey would see Bianca, not him, when she looked out the peephole. The receptionist knew Bianca was bringing a friend—is that what I am? A friend?—but smart New Yorkers never opened the door without looking out the peephole, and Chay knew there were some people who might find a guy his height and build intimidating.
Why take chances?
“Go for it,” he said, and Bianca took a breath and rang the bell.
A few seconds went by.
