Page 78 of Pride, Prejudice, & Pretense

Wickham chuckled, a chilling sound. "Let me surprise you. Rook and I will be there tomorrow at 1 p.m. to pick you up."

"Okay. But tell me. I need to know what to pack!"

"I'd say nothing—because that's what I most want to see you in. But pack for a hike. Hiking boots, if you have them, sweatshirts or sweaters, a warm jacket, maybe a hat."

"We're going camping?"

"No, not quite but we will be…roughing it. A little. Not off the grid, but on its edge."

Lizzy swallowed soundlessly. "Please tell me?" She tried for a subtly coquettish tone.

Wickham only chuckled again. "What have you told Ned about your trip?"

Lizzy hesitated. "Um…nothing. He's tied up in New York, an unexpectedly heavy workload. He can't be in Chicago again until next week at the earliest."

"So, lie by omission? What he doesn't know won't hurt him?" Wickham seemed to want her to confess it, acknowledge it, what she, Fanny, had done. Was planning to do.

Another hesitation. "Yes. Like you said, this isn't anything…permanent."

"No, just a chance for you to satisfy your desires. Scratch some itches before you have them. And I promise you will. Scratch them. I mean seriously scratch them." More chuckles.

He was eager but still sure of her, not in too much of a hurry for the event, not when it was inevitable. And not when what he wanted most, the corruption of the previously innocent Fanny, had already begun.

Lizzy realized with a sinking feeling that this phone call and the other night in her apartment had all been foreplay for him in more than a physical sense. Getting her to agree to the trip, the coming affair, titillated Wickham. He wanted to bed her, yes, but as he saw it, he had already gotten her to want it and agree to it. What aroused him was already happening.

She decided to let Fanny openly flirt back. "So you say."

His chuckle deepened, pleased. "I do. And you will. And on those too long, too short, dry nights with Ned, you'll have something to think of, something to moisten and enliven the proceedings."

"Tell me where we're going," she pleaded, keeping the outright flirty tone and hoping it would keep him from noticing her insistence, the number of times she had asked. She tried to avoid thinking about “moisten.”

"No. I want you to stay curious. See you at 1 p.m. Bye."

"Okay, bye."

About an hour later, Charlie returned from the UIC campus and was debriefing on the computer. Fitzwilliam was off-screen beside Charlie while Lizzy sat at the counter in her apartment watching her laptop screen and listening.

"I found Ms. Sanz. Teresa," Charlie said. "She was at a Starbucks on campus between classes. Langley gave me her schedule and a campus map, so I guessed that she might be there since it’s in the same building as both of her classes. I was lucky. Not only was she there, but it was crowded and the two-top where she was seated had one of the only empty chairs left. I asked to sit down, and she agreed.

“She’s just as attractive as the Polaroid showed. She was studying—psychology, I think—and I sat for a moment without saying anything. But then I looked at her and played a hunch. I told her that I knew I’d seen her before but that I wasn’t normally on campus. Pretended to be there on a sales call. Said it had to have been somewhere else that I saw her. She looked at me, wary at first, and then she studied my face. She said she didn’t recognize me, that she spends almost all her time on campus and doesn’t spend much of it off-campus. She thought a second and blushed a little. Then she surprised me by saying, 'Maybe it was at church?'

"I managed not to blurt out,'Church?’Instead, I nodded and pretended to try to recall. And she just volunteered what I wanted to know. Said she used to go to St. James Episcopal and asked whether I’d ever been there. I hesitantly mentioned Father Robyn, and you should have seen the look on her face!

“I told her I’d been there once and figured that must be where it was. Made up a story about thinking I’d seen her sitting beside a woman and described Lady Catherine to her…older, blonde, striking-looking lady. Made her go beet red, and she shook her head. Told me she did know the lady?said pointblank that it was Lady Catherine?but she’d never sat near her in church. Liked Father Robyn well enough and said he was the one who introduced her to Lady Catherine after a service.

"I told her it was nice to meet her, we exchanged names?I told her mine was John?and I left the table.

“It seemed clear that she got pulled into…whatever…with Wickham and Lady Catherine. Father Robyn didn't know what he was doing when he introduced that girl to that woman. Maybe Father Robyn came to see Fanny because of Teresa? Teresa didn't mention Wickham. So far as we know, Wickham’s never been to St. James, so I'm assuming Lady Catherine introduced Teresa to him. I'd be shocked if she's involved with the Wicker Man. Her body language was all seriously suppressed shame and regret." Charlie paused, shaking his head in pity. “Another Wickham victim?that's my strong intuition. Inexperienced, seduced, and now ashamed. I bet she regrets that Polaroid and lives in constant fear of it."

They were all silent for a long while, and then Charlie spoke again. "Lizzy, I’ll be bringing you a small black Patagonia sling bag to use, one you could also carry on a hike. There's a tracker sewn into the lining that’s Langley's latest and best. As long as you have the bag with you, we should be able to find you."

Fitzwilliam stepped onto the screen. "There will also be pills, tranquilizers in the bag disguised in a birth control package. Quick-dissolving and fast acting. Just put one in liquid. Once Wickham drinks it, he'll be out for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, given airport security and the whole situation, there's no way for you to carry a weapon. Once we know where you're going, we'll try to get one to you."

***

Friday, October 23

Chicago-O'Hare was the same vast concrete nightmare Lizzy remembered. It sprawled, leaden, beneath a leaden Chicago sky. Cold drizzle fell slowly but relentlessly. Rook was driving the limo, wipers on low, and Wickham was seated beside her, close, with his hands on his legs as he stared out the window, apparently deep in thought.

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