Page 72 of The Making of Marnie Jones

“Hundred bucks if you're on the Lakeshore in the next ten minutes.”

He muttered anothercrazy lady, but the driver pulled into traffic with breakneck speed.

She didn’t care. Looking through the back windshield, she locked eyes with the reporter.

The man’s glare told her of his determination. And rage.

As the cab neared the Lakeshore, Marnie finally had a clear, non-terror-filled thought. “Take us to Forest Hill.”

“Lady, you said Lakeshore, and I have two minutes left.”

Given it was rush hour, it was impressive the cabbie made it. Not that it mattered, she would’ve paid him the hundred.

At his hesitation, she pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill from her wallet. She tossed it onto the front seat with a flourish. “Forest Hill.”

Stopped at a red light, the driver picked up the bill and held it up to the light. “Is this real?”

“Of course it's real.” Marnie never lost her temper, but she was on the verge of it now. “It's plastic, isn't it?” One of those new polymer bills. Although she didn't like carrying cash, she liked less being caught unprepared. “Look, turn this taxi around and get us to Forest Hill or we’ll get out and find someone who will.”Be polite but forceful. Let him know you mean business.“There's another hundred for you when we get there.”

The cab driver made two illegal left turns to get them headed up Bay Street. “Crazy lady gets what crazy lady wants.”

Only when they passed Wellesley Street, and she was sure they weren’t being followed, did she take a breath. Olivia’s grip was tight on her hand, but despite the pain, she didn’t try to extricate herself.

“Marnie?”

“Yes?”

“I dropped my program.” The voice was barely above a whisper.

Damn.“Olivia?”

Instead of meeting her gaze, the young woman angled herself to look out the window. “I dropped my program.”

Her voice was thin and quiet, causing Marnie’s panic to increase. She didn’t know how to bring Olivia back from wherever she was. “We'll get you another one.” She’d also lost hers but was far more concerned about her friend. “Olivia.” When there was no answer, she repeated more forcefully, “Olivia.”

The young woman turned her head.

“You're okay.” She injected far more certainty into the statement than she felt, but she had to cope for both of them. Olivia’s well-being had to be the primary consideration.

For the first time, Olivia registered her surroundings. “Why aren’t we going back to Jake’s?”

Marnie cringed, having hoped they wouldn’t have to go down this road. Hopefully, she could put off breaking Olivia’s trust as long as possible. “I can't take the chance. I can't take the chance they know where Jake lives. We’ll be safe, I promise you.”

She didn’t have any right to give that promise, yet they wouldn’t be turned away. If that reporter appeared at her father's estate, the private security guards would quickly send him on his way.

“Where's my mother?” Olivia’s blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “After Jake showed up at the hospital…I figured she couldn't come, you know? But the man said she’s disappeared.”

“When was the last time you saw your mother?” Marnie asked the question gently, as if speaking to a little child.

“A couple of weeks ago. I guess. Maybe more. Before her arrest. Before the overdose.” Olivia’s brow knit. “Why? Where is she?”

“I don't know, sweetheart. After her arrest, they granted her bail, and she was expected to report to rehab.” She took a fortifying breath. “They can't find her. She's disappeared.”

“That's okay, she's probably at her latest boyfriend’s place. She's always at her boyfriend’s place.” The younger woman’s expression didn’t betray any real concern.

Marnie didn't dare argue. Nineteen-year-old Olivia was giving way to a fourteen-year-old, or even younger child. Something in her demeanor was changing, and Marnie felt powerless.Please hang on, Olivia.

Pulling her phone from her bag, she dialed the number long ago memorized by heart. “Mrs. Grant? It's Laura. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

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