Page 63 of Say Yes to the Death

“The note was a dumb prank. Barney’s in prison, and he has no friends because he’s a psychopath.”

“I don’t think you should?—”

“Trust me, it’s fine,” she said firmly, snapping Rosie’s leash on. “But don’t tell Mindy, please. You know how she gets. She only just stopped sleeping on a cot in front of my door.”

“Fine. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything. Love you,” Nicole said, giving Claire another squeeze.

Claire climbed into the cab with Rosie, bolstered by the presence of her furry companion.

“Where to, miss?”

She relayed her home address and sent a quick email to Mindy to let her know that she was home early and would be available for a meeting tomorrow to talk about screening their new applicants.

As they rounded the corner of Claire’s street, dozens of cars and news vans came into view. They surrounded the apartment building like an encroaching battalion. An icy fist gripped her throat, and she could barely choke out the words, “Just drive. Keep going. Anywhere but here.”

The mustachioed cab driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror but obliged.

The reporters perked up when they saw the cab going past the building, and six or seven people rushed into the street with cameras, peeking into the window.

“It’s her!” Claire heard a muffled voice say. “Miss Hartley, are the rumors true? Have you received contact from a Widowmaker copycat?”

What the shit? Who the hell had told them? Only her family, close friends, and the police knew about the note. They would rather stand in the Black Friday line outside Target in subzero temperatures for a week than betray her. So, who was it? Could there be a mole in the police station? Or did Luke leak the information after their fight?

She hid her face in Rosie’s fur, blocking out the press’s frantic shouts.

“Jesus,” the cab driver said, inching along as reporters practically scrambled on top of the car, shutters clicking from every direction.

She glanced behind her as they rounded the corner of the street. Several reporters climbed into their news vans, camera crew winding up their cables as quick as they could.

They hit a red light, and the invisible fist around Claire’s stomach tightened.

“Where do you want me to go? Where will you be safe?” The cab driver said, speaking in complete sentences for the first time. He wrapped his arm around the passenger’s head rest and glanced over his shoulder at her.

Claire paused, Mindy’s address on the tip of her tongue. But she and Gavin had gone glamping overnight and wouldn’t have cell service.

“Let me call someone,” she said, bringing up her phone. She would rather set herself on fire than go to Luke’s. Nicole and Kyle were celebrating. Who was left?

She scrolled aimlessly through her contacts. If she wasn’t safe in her own apartment, she probably wouldn’t be safe by herself in a hotel. She had no one, and reporters could be at her warehouse, too, for all she knew.

Her thumb paused over Sawyer-Sanctum in her contact list. He was almost certainly tired of rescuing her. But he might be her last hope.

“They’re getting out of their cars. They’re crazy,” the cab driver said.

Claire glanced behind her. A reporter from Channel Eight News and another man hoisting an expensive-looking camera climbed out of a van several car lengths behind them.

She clicked on Sawyer’s contact. The phone rang twice.

“Hey, I? need your help.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

To Do:

- Find a way to lose the press’s interest—plug a different charity every time they harass me?

- Send applicant acceptance letters

- Check in with Aaron

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