It rings once.
“Yes?” he answers.
“Adeline is hungry and would like me to go get something specific,” I say. “Can I please leave to get it?”
“The chef can make anything in the world,” he says. “I don’t see why you’d ever need to leave for that.”
“I’m politely asking you to run an errand.”
“I’m politely saying no.”
“Do you honestly think your daughter can’t see that she’s living in a gilded prison?” I ask. “That she never gets to leave and her freedom is only on your terms?”
“We’ll have to play a round of word games another day, Miss Jane,” he says. “I’m busy right now. Talk to the chef.”
He ends the call without another word, but I keep the phone pressed to my ear.
“Thank you so much for your permission, Mr. Rochester.” I smile at the guard. “I’ll come right back and won’t make any other stops like you said.”
I pause for a moment. “Will do, Mr. Rochester. Thank you.”
Pretending to end the call, I return the phone to my pocket.
“Can you get out of my way now?” I ask the guard. “I’ll be back.”
“Someone will follow you from a safe distance. Take the black Jaguar on the farthest row.”
“Thank you.” I move past him and walk through Ryder’s collection until I find the proper car.
Opening the driver’s door, I see that the key fob is sitting on the driver’s seat, waiting for a ride.
I slide onto the seat and push the start button, reversing and then heading up the winding driveway.
When I reach the gate, I glance through the rearview mirror and spot a grey car driving out of the garage.
Holding back a sigh, I coast onto the street and then to the highway.
It’s only two exits away.
Adele
Forgot to ask: Can I have extra jalapeños and spicy cheese?
Sure. You have great timing…
“CanI get extra jalapeños and spicy cheese on that third sandwich?” I ask the cook as he toasts the bread. “Can you do the same thing for the first two, too?”
“Absolutely, Miss.” He nods, and I move down the counter to peruse their cookies.
“The peanut butter caramel one is the best,” a woman says from behind me. “Unless they have the Oreo bits one.”
“They have both.” I smile at her. “I’ll get a couple of each. Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” she says. “You should probably savor every bit of flavor while you can. They don’t serve these in prison.”
“Excuse me?”
“How rude of me.” She extends a hand. “I’m Grace Poole. I’m with the ATF, but currently working alongside the FBI. How are you today, Miss Autumn Jane? Feeling good about yourself?”