Page 1 of Speak No Evil

1

The clock behind the shop counter ticked off the minutes. So far, Gwen MacLaine had been waiting fifteen—no, wait. The clock hand jumped to the next digit. Now, she’d been standing in line sixteen minutes. Too much time when she didn’t have any to spare.

She needed to meet Erin’s colleague right this minute—miles away in Manhattan’s financial district. He was going to think she’d blown him off. Again. Because she had no sense of shame, or ability to even tell time. She’d be even lower on his esteem meter.

Everyone in this skyscraper full of offices seemed to be sending a rush package this Friday afternoon. Outside the glass mail center doors, office workers already hurried past, anxious not to waste a second of the on-rushing summer weekend.

Finally, the customer in front of her took her receipt from the clerk and inched past and down the congested aisle. Gwen handed over her overnight envelope and within minutes was back in the lobby, pulling her cell from her tote. Elevators in the bay behind her pinged, and office workers surged toward the street exit. Several people bumped into her before she could move out of the way, and she tucked her tote tighter against her side.

Today was her last chance to retrieve the study book her roommate needed. Erin would be home early next week, maybe even Sunday night, and would want to start prepping for her final exam later in the week. Gwen threaded her way to one side of the building passageway, found the number she wanted and thought about what to say.

Everyone had plans for Friday evening. She didn’t know Will Strongbow personally, but he would likely be anxious to get on with his own, whatever they might be.

Here goes nothing. Gwen took a deep breath and tapped his contact.

“Hello?” A deep, sonorous male voice rumbled in her ear.

The sound flowed through her like warm brandy, and Gwen caught a quick breath the same as the first time she’d spoken with him. His voice suggested a ripped, master-of-the-universe type, but since he was an engineer, he’d be more likely to be skinny with glasses. And a pocket protector with a mechanical pencil.

“This is Gwen MacLaine. I got hung up—I know, I know. Again. Sorry about that. Same excuse, too, doing something last minute for my boss. He’s finally left for vacation, thank goodness.” A nervous giggle escaped her, but she plowed ahead, not giving him a chance to answer. “I’ll catch a taxi and be there soon.”

“Wait, Gwen.” His deep voice sounded urgent.

Her finger hovered over the disconnect icon, but she put the phone back to her ear. “You won’t have to wait long. I’m leaving now.”

“Why don’t I meet you? Just tell me where.”

She sighed. He would be nice about this. She’d noticed that before. But she was at fault here, and she felt bad about the delay. “We tried that before. Remember?”

Plus, she had no idea where to suggest for a meetup spot. She spent most of her time in the university neighborhood miles north of here. “It’s my turn to go the distance. I’m the one who wants the book. Well, Erin wants it, but that’s the same thing right now.”

Silence.

She was about to repeat what she’d said when he answered. “All right. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you so much.” She hesitated as to whether to offer another “sorry,” then decided once was enough. “See you soon.”

She ended the call and stared at the screen. Should she call the ride-share she occasionally used? Considering the time of day, she’d be better off trying to catch a cab and joined the throng heading to the building’s exit.

The late afternoon August heat blasted her when she stepped outside. Buses and cars clogged the avenue. Brakes screeched, and horns honked. She spotted plenty of yellow taxis moving south. Unfortunately, they all had fares and none of them seemed to be pulling to the curb to discharge them. She kept a lookout for an empty cab as she walked to the corner and waited for the traffic signal to turn.

A man with a briefcase talking ninety to nothing on his cell stopped beside her. A tall, well-muscled guy in a black tee with long hair stepped to the curb on the opposite side of the businessman. A logo or something—maybe that of a rock band—splashed across his shirt. Something about him…she glanced up and their gazes collided.

Oops! She quickly swiveled her gaze to the opposite curb, annoyed he’d caught her staring. The guy seemed vaguely familiar. Had she seen him on campus? Or maybe in the building lobby a few minutes ago?

Her chest squeezed. Lila, one of her colleagues at the lab, had recently been stalked for months. Was this guy following her? No! That was crazy. Thousands of casually dressed darkhaired guys with long hair must live in a city as big as New York. He simply worked in one of these buildings and was headed home. She would not be paranoid.

Still, she’d stayed safe in New York City by paying attention to her instincts, and she hated to ignore them now. But it was also true she was more tense than usual. She’d been wrapping up loose ends for her boss all week. He’d put her in charge of the virus lab while he was gone, and the thought of all that responsibility for the team’s medical research had her wired. She’d probably be herself again after a good night’s sleep.

The signal changed, and she crossed the intersection with the others and scanned the traffic for a free cab. One of the characteristic yellow taxis pulled to the curb, but was immediately snatched up by the man carrying a briefcase. No rideshares around, either.

A bus lumbered toward her. She hurried to the stop down the block and stepped into the queue. When the doors wheezed open, she climbed aboard, swiped her MetroCard, and inched forward through the standing passengers. She grabbed the overhead bar when the driver pulled away from the curb. The back of her neck prickled. A glance behind her revealed the guy in the rock band tee had boarded along with what felt like fifty others. Nothing unusual, here, she reminded herself. She still threaded her way to stand near the side exit door, putting at least eight people in the aisle between them.

Just like on the subway, except not as hot. A young mother held a child in her lap and a baby in a sling. A grizzled older woman with shopping bags tied with string sat next to her. Next to her in the small space stood well-heeled clerks and businessmen on their way home.

“Can you reach the stop request strip?” the mother asked and stood.

“Sure.” Gwen pushed the inner strip in the bracket and stepped aside to allow her to pass, smiling at the baby as the mother ushered her toddler to the exit.

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