I stared at the pic of Mom, thinking how much she looked like her daughter in it. While Neera’s coloring was darker than Mom’s, their smiles, facial shapes, and eyes were identical, leaving no doubt they were closely related.

  I skimmed through the paragraph of text on the front page and continued reading on page five, where the rest of the article was printed with more pics of Mom, one of them from her wedding to Ariel. Another photo, a mug shot of Mom when she was arrested, sat in stark contrast to the one from the wedding. The text was almost verbatim from the press release Paige had sent me, all of it filled with tacit triggers designed to get Mom to react. I could hardly wait for when I would get a call from Larry in which he told me Mom had contacted him. I couldn’t imagine that it would take long before that happened. Reading about how they would make significant changes to her script would drive her mad. Maybe we would get so lucky that she threw caution to the wind the second she saw the story and called Larry, not worrying about blocking her number. The thought sent a rush of excitement through my body. It would hardly happen, but one could always dream.

  I put the paper down and went over to the bar area in the sitting room. I hadn’t had a drink for almost a week. The beers I’d had with Steve the other day had so little alcohol in them they didn’t count; the three cans I’d drunk had barely given me a buzz. Tossing a glance over my shoulder to make sure I was alone, I reached for the old scotch sitting on the shelf. It was a bottle of Johnny Walker Gold Label that cost over a thousand bucks that I had been longing to taste again ever since I’d discovered it. I had thought Ariel and I had finished the last of it, but apparently I was wrong; there was still more of it in the penthouse.

  Removing a tumbler from the neat rows of glasses on a shelf below, I unscrewed the top of the sleek whiskey bottle and poured myself a generous measure of liquor. I put the bottle back where I found it and brought the drink to my lips.

  I would only have this one glass, I promised myself as I had a large gulp of the amber-colored liquid. After what I had been through lately, I deserved it, even though it wasn’t even noon yet. Plus, I had reason to be extra nervous today and could use something strong to take the edge off. Any moment now, Rosa would arrive, and then I would ask her about the slip pad under the rug in Neera’s bedroom. I needed to find out who was responsible for it missing. It had been on my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had managed to convince my brain but not my gut that I would get it confirmed the cleaning team had moved it.

  The sound of women speaking Spanish reached my ears and I chugged the whiskey, then placed it on a side table. I turned around to face Rosa and her sister just as they entered the large sitting room.

  They were both short, plump women from El Salvador with thick black hair gathered in buns at the napes of their short necks. Rosa, who was the older of the two with her fifty-something years, was prettier than Maribel, mostly because she lacked her sister’s faint moustache and bad skin. They wore similar nondescript sweaters and pants under their dark-colored coats.

  “Hello, Shane,” Rosa grinned at me. Unlike her sister, she spoke English fairly fluently. “How are you?” She eyed me up and down in that maternal way of hers. “You sleep enough? You look tired.”

  I smiled wearily; I was feeling tired lately, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I had too much on my mind to be able to rest adequately. “I’m okay, thanks,” I replied. “Thanks for coming by. I was wondering if you moved the slip pad under the rug in Neera’s room when you cleaned the floor last week and somehow forgot to put it back in place? It was peeled back under the rug. I’m talking about the slip pad under the rug next to her bed, the one closest to the windows.”

  Rosa looked at me like I had asked her if she could perform a striptease for me, or something similarly outrageous. Then she glanced at her sister and a rapid fire of Spanish shot out of her mouth. Maribel shook her head and replied something in Spanish that contained a lot of the word Dios in it. Rosa turned to look at me.

  “No, we would never do that,” she stated with a mildly affronted expression. “Never remove slip pad. That is dangerous. The floor make the rug very slippy.” She glanced meaningfully at the floor around us.

  I was about to ask her if she was absolutely sure, but the stern way she looked at me, as though challenging me to do so, made me cut myself short. Instead, I would ask James later if Rosa and her team were always as conscientious as she claimed. Sadly, I didn’t expect him to contradict her version.

  “I’m sorry, Rosa,” I said. “I didn’t mean to offend. I know you guys do an awesome job here. Ariel always told me you’re the best cleaners in New York City! Sorry to have you come down here on your day off. I really appreciate it.”

  Rosa and her sister told me it was no problem, then left me in the sitting room. I wondered if maybe someone else could have moved the slip pad for some reason. Maybe Karen had done it. It seemed more plausible than Neera, a kid, having done it. Or perhaps James had something to do with it. Or someone else. Anyone but Neera. I refused to believe that Neera had moved the slip pad just to see if someone would fall.

  I picked up the glass from the side table and went to fill it up with some more whiskey. Bringing the glass to my lips, I emptied it in a rush, then refilled it. I had to drown out the tightening knot in my gut, loosen it up a little. It wasn’t a wise move as I was about to meet up with Trish for lunch to celebrate my 19th birthday that was coming up in a few days, and she was likely going to be able to smell it, but I didn’t care.

  Reality was just a little too much to handle for me to be totally sober right then.

  14

  I found it when I was about to go to bed later that night: There was a fucking handgun in my nightstand. At first, I was sure I was just experiencing a hallucination. After all, I was prone to those according to Dr. Navarro. But no, the black handgun was for real. I showed it to Rachel and she confirmed it for me.

  “Is it loaded?” she asked, standing before the open drawer in my nightstand and looking down at it.

  “Looks like it,” I replied. I had checked and there was a magazine in the handle that seemed full. I picked it up again and weighed it in my hand. It felt heavy, loaded.

  “Are you sure you didn’t put it there?” She gazed at me skeptically as I put it back. “Maybe you bought it somewhere when you were drunk and hid it there. You do drink a lot.”

  “I really don’t think so. I would have remembered. I may get pretty drunk, but not so much I experience blackouts.”

  “How would you know if you experienced a blackout?” Rachel pointed out. “That’s the whole point of one. You don’t remember what you did during it.”

  “That’s true, but I really don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “So how did it get there then?”

  “I think Ariel put it there and forgot to tell me about it. He wanted me to have it to be able to protect myself against Mom, but before he could tell me, he had the heart attack. He knew how much it bothered me to have the security guys follow me around.” In the beginning, the security team had insisted on having at least one guy tag along whenever any of went somewhere. It annoyed me to have a shadow wherever I went. I really didn’t think Mom would try to kill me in bright daylight, out in public where people could see her, even stop her. Thankfully, I managed to convince the head of the team that I wanted to go out on my own. They could focus on following Ariel around instead.

  Rachel pondered my suggestion, chewing on a nail. “I suppose that could have happened. He was certainly not against guns, that’s for sure. He owned a couple of them as you know. ”

  “I’m telling you that’s what happened. Your father put it there. How else did that gun end up in my bedroom?”

  Rachel gave a mocking smile. “I think it’s fifty-fifty that Dad put it there and that you got it when drunk and just put it there.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, whatever you wanna believe.”

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Keep it of course. I could use a handgun to protect myself, right? My mom does want to kill me. I thought about getting one many times actually.”

  “Uh-huh. But do you even know how to use a gun?”

  “I can learn. I can visit a shooting range.”

  “Yeah, you better do that if you’re gonna keep it.” Rachel gazed at me sternly.

  “Don’t worry, I will. That way I’ll find out if it’s loaded, too.”

  But I wouldn’t go to a shooting range. It wasn’t like I had a permit for the gun. If they did a search on me, which they probably would, they’d find out about my history. And I very much doubted I’d get to keep the gun then. I could figure out if the gun was loaded on my own. But Rachel didn’t have to know that. Besides, there were plenty of YouTube videos I could watch and learn how to use it. How hard could it be?

  15

  It took five days until Larry Levy heard from Mom. She didn’t call him, but one afternoon Larry got an email from her.

  “Can you read it to me?” I asked Larry, who had called me on my cell the second he saw the email. “Or is it really long? Maybe you can forward it to me instead.”

  “Not at all. It’s only three sentences. This is what it says: ‘Hello, Larry, glad to see you want to do my movie after all. I hear you want some changes. I think we both know I’m the only one authorized to do those changes.’”

  “That’s it?” I asked when he didn’t say anything else.

  “Uh-huh. It’s not signed, but I’m assuming that must be from her.”

  “That’s a good assumption. What’s the email address?”

  “Some gibberish. It doesn’t look like a regular email address. You think it’s from a fake account?”

  “Probably. Did you respond to it yet?”

  “No, I wanted to see what you had to say about it first.”

  “I appreciate that. Could you just shoot her an email back, asking if this is Jennifer? You know, so we can verify it’s really her? I’m pretty good with computers and so is my buddy. We’re both well-versed with the Darknet, which I’m sure she’s using to email us. Between the two of us, we should be able to figure it out, but there’s no point in trying if it seems like it’s someone else just messing with us.”

  “Sounds wise. You think she’ll confirm?”

  “Yeah, I do. She wouldn’t have risked contacting you otherwise. She’ll want you to be sure it’s her.”

  Larry exhaled. “I suppose I can’t argue with you there. Should I respond now?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “All right. Hang on. I’ll do it right now. I’m in front of my computer.”

  I could hear him put the phone down somewhere and some static traveled over the line. I chewed on a nail as I waited for him to pick up again, thinking about how, so far, things were working out just like I had thought. Mom had sniffed out what was going on and had responded pretty much exactly like planned. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. You’re so predictable, aren’t you, dear Mom? Keep it up and I’ll catch you in no time. Put you right back where you belong and make you STAY there.

  Loud crackling hurt my ear as Larry picked up the phone again. “Okay, it’s done,” he said.

  “Let’s hope she replies soon. Like right now.”

  “Ha! Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it? The sooner you can get a hold of her, the better. I won’t be able to work until this is resolved.”

  And that’s why you’re getting so much cash for your trouble, I thought but didn’t say. The way things were developing, it should only be a matter of a week or two before we’d found Mom. If she was this eager to be involved in the movie, it stood to reason that she would act as foolishly as I had anticipated. She would say or do something that revealed her whereabouts if I could keep playing my cards right.

  It did irk me that Larry seemed to think he was doing me such a great favor. Not only was he getting paid handsomely for his efforts, but one would think he’d also be pleased to be part of the team that tracked down one of the world’s most vicious criminals. A woman so evil there was no question she would kill more people. The only question was, how many would get killed before she was stopped. But no, Larry Levy didn’t seem to care less. All he could think about was how he was losing out by participating. Maybe when the search for Mom was over and I didn’t need him any longer, I would point this out to him. No, not maybe. I would point it out and enjoy every second of letting him know what a selfish prick he was. I would savor the day I could do so.

  For now, though, I had to simply swallow my frustration and say, “I know and I’m so grateful that you agreed to help out with this. It would’ve been so much harder without you.”

  “Yeah, it would be, wouldn’t it,” Larry bitched, then added, “She hasn’t responded yet. How about I give you a shout when she does? I’m supposed to meet someone. I’ve gotta leave my office.”

  “Okay.”

  We said our goodbyes and then disconnected.

  I expected to hear back from Mom by the end of that day, and, again, I was right. I received another call from Larry about three hours later.

  “She confirmed,” he told me when I answered his call.

  “Great. Did she say anything else?”

  “These are the exact words she used: ‘Yes, this is Jennifer Hanson Friedman. Don’t fuck

  with me if you care about your life. Stick to the rules of our contract.’”

  “Hmm. I can’t say I’m surprised. You think she’s referring to the rules of the option contract?”

  “I can’t see what else she’d be talking about. What’s our next step? Will you and your buddy come over here and trace her IP address? Or is it enough if I just forward you her emails? I really want this resolved very soon. She’s creeping me out.” I could tell that he shuddered.

  “It’ll go faster if I can do it from your computer. At least I’ll be coming down to see you. Steve might not be able to make it until later, but that’s okay. I should be able to figure out where she’s coming from on my own. By the way, let’s meet at The Ground, not at your office. It’ll seem suspicious and I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Okay. I’m not sure we should do this on our own, though. We’re dealing with a psychopathic serial killer here. I think we should involve the FBI and have them track her. Don’t you think they’ll be able to do it faster than you can?”

  I stifled an annoyed sigh. I had feared these objections would come. “No. Like I already explained, it’s not that hard to trace her if she’s traceable. We don’t need the FBI for that. There are of course ways to trace her even if she’s extremely well hidden, but that would take the authorities weeks of efforts and energy.” Probably not that long, but Larry didn’t need to know that. “By the time they figure out where she is, she’ll be long gone. She’s not so stupid she’ll hang around in the same place for long.”

  Larry exhaled. “Okay, fine. But if you can’t find her, we’ll have to consider involving the authorities.”

  I closed my eyes and said, “Maybe,” just to shut him up for now. He knew he wouldn’t get the second million if he did that, but I didn’t see the need to get into that part of our agreement right now. There were more important things to focus on.

  I told him to bring his laptop to the obscure coffee shop where we had originally met up, and that we should meet there ASAP. Then I left the penthouse and headed over there myself. I would text Steve on the way and give him the latest status of the operation. He was super busy with deadlines, so I highly doubted he’d be able to join us, but it wasn’t really necessary. I sincerely believed that I’d be able to trace Mom on my own, especially if she’d been careless. I had found out all about how criminals used the Dark Web and the TOR browser while in juvie and as soon as I got out on parole, I learned as much as I could about how to navigate it by surfing the deep web. I would have done so sooner, but our internet use in prison had been severely restricted. Being already very computer savvy, it had come easily for me despite the long break.

  Larry was already there when I arrived. As the last time, the joint was quiet with only two other patrons at the tables. The same bored girl with pink hair stood behind the counter, chewing gum while staring listlessly into the wall.

  I took a seat at the table where Larry sat, drumming his fingertips impatiently against the wood.

  “What took you so long?” he wanted to know, looking edgy.

  I shrugged; not even half an hour had passed since we’d spoken, so I honestly didn’t know what he was talking about. But I could tell that he was already in a bad mood, so I ignored his question and asked him to switch on his laptop instead. With a sullen look, he did as I asked and flipped the laptop around so I would have a better view of the screen. It displayed his email account.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Maybe you can get us a coffee or something, so that girl doesn’t start bitching that this coffee shop isn’t a public space?”

  “Fine,” Larry muttered and pushed himself to his feet and headed over to the counter.

  Larry used the same model MacBook as I used, so I had soon opened the emails Mom had sent him. They stated verbatim what he had already read to me over the phone.

  By the time Larry was back with coffees and pound cake, I had managed to figure out from where Mom had sent the emails, and when I had, I was glad to have taken all the precautions meeting up with Larry that I had.

  Mom was still in the country. More specifically, she was in the New York area.

  16

  “Are you sure?” Larry asked, gazing at me, wild-eyed. You’d think he’d be happy on some level that I had succeeded in finding Mom so fast, but he seemed more terrified than anything.

  “Yeah,” I said and showed him briefly how I had arrived at my conclusion. Step by step, I went over the process for him.