Page 138 of Dying to Meet You
“I’m in New York? Why?”
“Prove it. Show me the view out the window.” I don’t care if I sound crazy. I need to know who I can trust.
Jules doesn’t argue. She carries her phone through a small apartment. The screen momentarily flashes white as she points it toward a window. Then the image stabilizes, and the bricks of a building across the streetcome into view. “I’m on the seventh floor. And—here—can you see the traffic on Ninth Avenue?”
She angles the phone down, and I see an oblique slice of a busy urban street. There’s traffic, including an iconic yellow taxi.
“All right. Thank you.” I sag against the sofa, because Jules reallyisin New York. And she probably didn’t murder her ex-husband.
“Rowan, what’s this about?”
“Someone broke into my house today and left Tim’s wallet on the coffee table. With his license inside.”
Her startled face comes back into view. “You’re shitting me.”
“I wish. Someone wants to scare me. Or make the police believe I have access to Tim’s stolen things. Or prove Harrison does. I actually don’t know what they wanted, but if they wanted to rattle me, it worked great.”
“Wow. You must have really stepped in a steaming pile of shit. Who’d you piss off?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
Her expression turns thoughtful. “By any chance have you been poking around in Tim’s adoption?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I have the birth mother’s name, and I met her.”
“Whoa.” Her apartment becomes a dizzying blur as she trots back to her desk. “Who is she?”
“Not so fast. You told me that if I gave you the name, you’d give me everything you had.”
Her gaze sharpens. “Fine. It’s a deal. What’s her name?”
“In a second. This is what I need from you—every name Tim asked you to search for. And anything you found about Harrison’s mother. No holding back.”
“Okay. But you met her? What was that like?”
I try to think what I can say without violating Laura’s privacy. “She’s in a lot of pain. If you try to talk to her, be gentle. She’s fragile. And it’s possible that the police are already talking to her.”
“Interesting,” Jules says almost gleefully. “If you’ve got the detectives’ attention, maybe that’s how you managed to piss someone off.”
“Maybe.” I rub my gritty eyes. “But how would the killer know?”
“The department has a lot of manpower on this murder. They do their best to keep everything quiet, but all you need is one guy who’s willing to talk.”
To Hank?I wonder.
“What’s the birth mother like?” Jules asks. “What did she tell you?”
“Well...”Poor Laura. “She’s had a rough time with Tim’s death. They were only recently acquainted. They first met in February.”
Rowan lets out a low whistle. “How’d that happen? Genetic test?”
“Yes. There was some trauma surrounding the adoption, and it sounds like the maternity home was a horrible place. Lots of shaming and mistreatment. You’ll have to ask her yourself. She won’t want to be interrogated, but she’d probably like to meet Tim’s ex-wife.”
“Sure. I can be gentle,” Jules says with a shrug.
I’m not sure I believe her. She wears her relentless curiosity like perfume. “It soundedbad. And even if you can get her to talk to you, it will be hard work corroborating her story. Unless you got a whole bunch of those women in a room together.”
“Well. That’s what I do for a living. Track people down and get them to talk.”
