Page 124 of Stolen Ones
‘Yeah, it’s just that bed.’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s smaller than the one at Suzie’s house. Suzie mentioned a nice big bed all to herself.’
‘Libby said the same,’ Penn said, leaning over to take another look.
‘That’s a small bed,’ Bryant insisted.
‘I really don’t think it’s—’
‘I mean it’s smaller than a normal single bed.’
‘And?’
‘This is more the size of a bunk bed.’
Damn. Now she understood what he was saying.
Bunk beds came as a pair.
Seventy-Five
As she headed to her target destination, Alex savoured the experience, safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be trudging these soulless hallways for much longer.
Her plan was coming together nicely – just a couple more hours to wait and one more thing to do.
‘Hey, Lisa,’ she said, stepping into the cell of the young woman she’d spoken with a couple of days earlier. This time there was no attempt to force a cheerful expression onto her face. This time she aimed for a mixture of sadness and concern.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked, sitting on the other bed. She could see for herself that the girl wasn’t doing well. She appeared even thinner than the last time. She hadn’t showered, and her eyes were red-rimmed and heavy.
‘Shit, Alex. I don’t think I can take much more.’
‘Hey, you’re stronger than you think,’ she said, reaching into her pocket for the item she’d been hiding for weeks. The one that had cost her more than a meal at The Ivy. ‘I brought you this to cheer you up.’
She took the disposable razor and placed it next to Lisa on the bed. ‘Smooth legs always make you feel better.’
Lisa closed her hand around it. ‘Where did you get this?’
Alex shrugged as Lisa placed it under her pillow. ‘Someone owed me a favour, and I thought you’d appreciate it.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, trying to be upbeat. She failed miserably. That was good.
‘That man of yours been in yet?’ Alex asked.
Lisa shook her head.
‘How long is that now?’
‘Three weeks but he’s been working a lot.’
‘Even at weekends?’ Alex asked doubtfully. ‘Some bosses are bastards, aren’t they? Does he work at some kind of twenty-four-hour place or something?’
‘He’s a landscaper, self-employed.’
‘Oh,’ Alex said. She was pretty sure they didn’t work all weekend, and if he was the boss, he could certainly give himself a couple of hours off here and there, but there was no need to state it. She’d done enough to put the thought there.
‘Is he coming this weekend?’ Alex asked brightly.
