Page 178 of The Chase
Peeking beneath the duvet I realized he’d dressed me in my babydoll nightdress. He’d brought me home and put me to bed.
I shot a glance at the bedside clock: 8:00 a.m.
My feet were unsteady as I padded out to my bathroom, my hand trailing along the wall to support me as I tried to shake off this postdrugged daze. After using the loo I brushed my teeth to try and rid myself of this taste of betrayal.
Feeling a little better, I checked each room to make sure he wasn’t here. I reached the kitchen—
The Tibetan singing bowl was on my kitchen table. “No!”
I was already a suspect for that theft at Christie’s, and it wouldn’t take much more of a stretch to have them believe I had anything to do with this.
Oh my God.
I’d spent time in that private safe with Violet as my witness.
I burst into action and ran into my bedroom, quickly finding a box and that Harrods paper bag that Tobias had given me when he’d gifted those strappy new shoes. I’d had no idea then I’d be using it to transport a priceless artifact.
I dressed in a hurry, pulling on jeans and a jumper, and tugging on my boots and grabbing my parka.
In a blind panic I flew out the door.
There was no other way to prove my innocence but take full responsibility for being caught in this web.
I hailed a taxi and within minutes the black cab pulled away from the curb.
Clutching the Harrods bag to my chest, I cycled through why Tobias had set me up by staging evidence. My heart felt like fragile glass on the brink of shattering; I begged God to numb this agony.
I could have loved him...
Some part of me felt as though I had.
Oh no...
I’d accompanied Tobias to Blandford Palace and helped him stake out the painting by Goya. The one suspiciously hidden behind a fake. And I’d been forbidden from filing a report and relented to his demands for secrecy.
I’d been so naive.
The journey to Scotland Yard was an endless drive into the mouth of hell. I knew I was about to succumb to the worst kind of questioning. A cruel treatment worthy of the police’s finest detectives. An interrogation so fierce they’d have me believing I’d played a part in this dreadful crime.
If I thought my life was bad before, it was circling the drain now.
I reached into my handbag and pulled out my phone and dialed Tobias’s number. It went to voice mail. He’d not canceled his line yet. There was hope I might speak with him one more time. Get answers to why.
My voice sounded shaky. “Tobias, please call me. I’m begging you. We have to talk.” I killed the call and dialed Abby’s number.
Her voice mail answered.
I canceled the call, unsure of leaving words on record that might later hang me.
With the taxi paid for I climbed out and hesitated on the curb. That tall police station of New Scotland Yard threatened to keep me in there.
There was no other way...
I began the trek up the steps.
Hands trembling, I resigned myself to my fate and continued up.
A flash of inspiration hit me, and I plopped down and rested on the stone step. With a sweep across my phone and a tap, I had the number for the operator. Within seconds I was being put through to a Sarah Louise Ramirez, the only one listed in Canterbury. At some point she’d moved from France to here.
