“Reese Papadopoulos.” Saying that name out loud never got easier.
He stopped chopping and looked at me with a surprised expression. “Wait! I thought she’d died.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Slightly terrifying.”
I knew he’d react like this, grilling me.
The answers were still out of reach.
He glowered. “When did you meet her daughter?”
“Last Friday at Cole Tower.” Mentioning that I had become trapped in an elevator with her could wait until later. “Her name is Lilly.”
“How did she get into the building?”
“Not sure.”
“You do realize who you are talking to?”
“How could I forget?”
“Have you called Reese? Confirmed it’s her?”
“No.”
“Henry!”
“I wanted to deal with it later.”
Only I wasn’t.
“Does Lilly live in L.A?” he asked.
“She flew in.”
“And where is she staying?”
“At the Belmont Crescent.” I acknowledged his frown. “She’s probably checked out of there by now.”
“Have you got her phone number?”
“Reese’s?” I said the rest with a shrug. “Maybe it’s in the envelope.”
“I meant Lilly.” He wagged his finger. “You need to update me on these kinds of events.”
I sliced another cauliflower in two.
“I need to be notified whenever you have an anomaly,” he added.
“And I need to be notified when you move my shit.”
“Does that envelope not strike you as weird?”
“It could be a hoax.”
“We’ll face it together. How about that?”
I conceded with a nod of thanks. “Don’t share this with Cameron.”