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I’m just about to take my first bite of fried mozzarella when what I hear stops me mid-bite.
“…and police will be holding a special press conference in one hour to release important updates on the search for real-estate magnate Charles Black’s killer. We don’t know for sure, but we expect to hear details on the charges and very possibly the identity of the accused, as well as…”
I feel all eyes on me. All of my confidence ebbs away in just a few seconds. “What now?” I ask.
Charlotte sighs. “I was worried about this. The police are eager to reassure the public and take credit for catching the killer.”
“This is not good,” Juan Manuel adds as he puts his plate down on the table.
“What if they say my name? What if Rodney finds out before he even gets to the hotel?”
“It’s five o’clock now. We’ve still got an hour,” Mr. Preston says.
“That’s right,” Charlotte says. “Let’s not panic. I say we stick to the plan. But we don’t have a lot of time.”
The newscaster is reviewing the details of the death and the findings of the autopsy—death by asphyxiation. We all watch in silence. “…and inside sources say that Mr. Black’s wife, socialite Giselle Black, maynotbe the accused and that she remains a guest at the hotel. But we’ll know more for sure in an hour when—”
Charlotte turns the TV off. “Let’s hope Rodney doesn’t see this and disappear. And that Giselle doesn’t check out anytime soon,” she says.
“She won’t,” I say. “She has nowhere else to go.”
Mr. Preston puts down his plate and gets to his feet. “Looks like I’m heading to work early today,” he says. “Molly, are you ready? You understand the next steps?”
I can’t seem to form words. I feel the world tilt a little, but I know I must forge onward. “I’m ready,” I say.
“Charlotte, when you receive the text from me, you’ll contact Detective Stark?”
“Yes, Dad. I’m actually going to wait right outside the station.”
“Juan Manuel, will you act as mission control from here? We’ll call you when we need your help.”
“Yes, of course,” he says. “You call, I’m on it. I won’t rest until we catch him.”
There is nothing else for me to say or do. I’ve lost my appetite, so I put down my plate.
The deep-fried mozzarella sticks will have to wait.
Mr. Preston insists we take a cab over to the hotel to save time. We’ve now pulled over just around the corner so the taxi can drop me off. I’m embarrassed when he pays, but I’ve really no choice but to accept his generosity.
“Molly, are you sure you’re okay to walk from here? You know the plan?”
“Yes, Mr. Preston. I’m fine. I’m ready.” I’m saying the words with the hope that the feelings will follow, but the truth is that I’m trembling and the world around me is spinning too fast.
I’m about to step out of the taxi when Mr. Preston puts a hand on my arm. “Molly, your gran would be proud of you.”
The mention of her makes my emotions bubble up, but I will them back down. “Thank you, Mr. Preston,” I manage before slipping out the door.
I watch as Mr. Preston drives away without me.
I walk the last block on my own and wait for ten minutes hidden in an alleyway across from the hotel. It’s eerily beautiful in the late afternoon. The golden light strikes the brass and glass of the entranceway, bathing it in a mysterious glow. The Chens are on their way to an early dinner. He’s wearing a pinstripe suit and she’s all in black, except for abright-pink corsage pinned to her bodice. A young family jumps out of a taxi after a long day of sightseeing, the parents lethargic and slow. Their two children dash up the scarlet steps, holding up souvenirs for the valets to see. It’s always like this at dusk—as if the day is throwing the last of its energy up the steps while the hotel itself patiently waits for the calm of night to come.
The podium is the only spot that’s forlorn and empty. Mr. Preston has not yet arrived. No doubt he’s still downstairs, donning his great coat and hat and signing in early for his shift.
Time is going by unbearably slowly. Nervous tension makes my entire body tremble. I don’t know if I can do this. I’m unsuited to this level of performance. The only thing that gives me strength is the fact that Mr. Preston, Charlotte, and Juan Manuel are in on it.
When you believe in yourself, nothing can stop you.
I’m trying my best, Gran. I am.
