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“Freeze that,” I say on the frame showing the maid leaving a second time.
The frame freezes.
“Zoom in.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the image becomes magnified, I see Giselle’s face.
“Now, bring up the other frame where the maid was leaving.”
“Yes, sir.”
As I take a closer look at that, I realize the maid isn’t Giselle. It’s Leah.
“Shit,” the guard beside me mutters as he realizes it too.
I look at the time the footage was taken. Wednesday at 6:12 PM.
“Pull up the log,” I order.
I remember ordering security to take note of Leah’s activities, especially if something unusual happened.
The guard presses a few keys and a new window pops up on the computer screen. I read the notes of the guard on duty from the other day out loud.
“At approximately 6:05 PM, Sapphire complained that she was not feeling well. Claimed headache and nausea. The maid called the doctor and left to get medicine.”
The maid, it said. But it wasn’t. It was Leah in Giselle’s uniform.
I read the rest silently,
Medicine was administered. Everything settled down. Sapphire asked for food and rested in her room.
I frown. It doesn’t say anything about the maid coming back, which means Leah didn’t. Probably, she switched places with Giselle and then after she left, Giselle went back to her usual role. She pretended to administer the medicine, told everyone else Leah was fine and resting, and then she left the apartment at nine.
I tap my fingers impatiently on the desk. That means Leah has been gone for over forty-eight hours now.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the guard beside me mutters.
“Sorry?” I glare at him. “Someone will have to pay for this incompetence.”
But first, we have to find Leah.
“Sir.” The other guard returns.
I turn in hopes of seeing Giselle with him. Instead, I see Ms. Jensen.
“Ms. Jensen?”
The housekeeper shakes her head. “Giselle’s not here, sir.”
I walk towards her. “What do you mean?”
“She called in sick today,” Ms. Jensen answers.
My eyebrows crease. “So who’s been the one bringing Leah food?”
“One of the cleaning maids, Martha,” Ms. Jensen answers. “She said Giselle asked her to.”
“And when did any of you last see Giselle?”
“Wednesday, before her day off.”
That was the image caught on camera. So Leah left and Giselle didn’t return.
They ran away together. Fuck.
I look at the guard standing near the computer. “You have all the personnel files, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pull up Giselle’s file for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he does that, I get on my phone.
“Boss?” Angelo answers after the first ring.
I draw a deep breath and grit my teeth. “I need you to find Leah for me.”
~
After two hours, Angelo calls me back.
“Leah took a bus to Chicago,” he reports. “She was with the maid. From there, they headed north.”
North. Michigan?
“Where?”
“They were last seen in the city of St. Cloud, Minnesota,” Angelo answers.
Minnesota?
“I believe they’re headed further north, to Hackensack. Apparently, the maid has a relative with property listed there.”
I let out a breath of relief. At least I know where Leah is now. All that’s left is to get her back.
“Then that’s where we’re going.”
~
We arrive at Hackensack at four in the morning. The sky is still dark. By the time we get to the location Angelo learned about, though, it’s already light. As we approach what looks like a broken-down house, I see Giselle carrying a pail of water.
“Giselle,” I call out to her.
She recognizes me and drops the pail. She runs. One of Angelo’s men chases after her, catches her and brings her to me.
“She’s not here,” Giselle tells me as soon as she’s standing in front of me. “You won’t find her here.”
I can tell she’s lying, though.
“Where is she?” I ask.
She looks away and doesn’t answer. I could hit her or threaten her to make her tell me what I want to hear, but I know of a faster way.
“You’re not telling me because you think I’ll hurt her,” I say. “I promise I won’t. I just want to talk to her.”
Still, Giselle remains silent. I have to give it to her. She’s a good friend. At least, she’s trying to be.
“Giselle.” I grasp her chin and force her to look into my eyes. “Look at me. I know you think I hurt Leah. I admit I did. But I was wrong.”
She purses her lips. I can see the debate taking place behind her eyes.
“What happened at the Ball was a misunderstanding,” I go on. “I didn’t know she came to talk to me. Now that I do, I want to hear what she has to say. Don’t you think she’d like that?”
Understanding dawns in her gaze.
I let her chin go. “You want to help Leah, don’t you? So help me help her.”
Finally, Giselle nods.
“Where is Leah?”
She glances at the woods. “She does yoga every morning, somewhere in the woods.”
As soon as she says that, Angelo’s men start running.
I pat Giselle’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
