The Sleeping Beauty Killer

63

Laurie was waiting outside Sean Murray’s brownstone for the Uber car that was supposed to have arrived three minutes earlier when a new text message appeared on her screen. It was from Charlotte: I think I know who’s behind those “And also” notes you were curious about. It’s complicated. Let’s talk tonight.

She immediately tried calling Charlotte, but got her voice-mail message again. She pulled up Charlotte’s contact information and tried her office number instead. Her assistant answered. “Sorry, Laurie, she’s at the warehouse with Angela, but she must have her phone on. She just had me connect her to someone in IT a few minutes ago.”

That phone call must have been around the same time Charlotte sent the text about RIP_Hunter. “Do you know what she was calling them about?” Laurie asked.

“She had a question about Internet usage-who was looking at what from their company computers. You wouldn’t believe the garbage people look at during work. No common sense.”

Laurie asked her for the address of the warehouse, and then thanked her for the information and ended the call. Charlotte had been looking at the RIP_Hunter comments when she was in Laurie’s office. Something about them must have sparked her curiosity. If she had figured out that Angela was behind the posts, she was in real danger.

Laurie was dialing 911 when she spotted a black SUV with an Uber sticker in the window. She nearly jumped in front of the car to make sure the driver didn’t pass her.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

Laurie blurted out the address of the warehouse as she climbed into the backseat of the SUV. “Please hurry,” she said to the driver.

“Is that your location, ma’am? I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Sorry, no, I’m not there. Not yet. But my friend is. She’s in danger.”

The dispatcher was all business. “Did your friend call you? What kind of danger are we talking about?”

“She’s in a warehouse with a woman we suspect of murder. She texted me because she figured out something very critical, and now she’s not answering her phone.”

“Ma’am, I really am trying to understand you, but you’re not making any sense.” Laurie saw the Uber driver eyeing her suspiciously in the rearview mirror. She realized she sounded insane. She forced herself to slow down and explained to the dispatcher that she was the producer of Under Suspicion and that a woman named Angela Hart was likely guilty of committing a murder for which someone else had already been convicted. “She knows we’re on to her. I’m very worried about my friend. Her name’s Charlotte Pierce. Please, it’s a matter of life and death.”

She saw the driver roll his eyes and shake his head. To him, she was just another crazy New Yorker.

“Okay, ma’am. I understand you’re concerned, but you haven’t told me of any violence, threats of violence, or any other concrete danger to your friend. I’m putting in a request for a welfare check, but it may take a while. We’ve got two major call-outs in that same precinct.”

As the daughter of a police officer Laurie knew that a welfare check was a low priority. She could be waiting for hours. She tried again, but could tell her urgent pleas were falling on deaf ears. The clock was ticking. She hung up and called her father’s cell phone. On the fourth ring, she heard his voice mail inviting her to leave a message.

“Dad, there’s an emergency.” She didn’t have time to explain the entire story. “Casey’s cousin Angela is the killer. And now I think Charlotte’s in danger at a warehouse in DUMBO. The address is 101 Fulton Street in Brooklyn. I called 911, but the dispatcher entered it as a welfare check. Charlotte’s not answering her phone. I’m headed there now.”

As she ended the call, with a sinking heart she realized why Leo hadn’t picked up. He had been asked to consult on a new antiterrorism task force. The first meeting was at the mayor’s office this afternoon.

He might notice a text, she thought, and began tapping on her phone: EMERGENCY. CHECK MY VM MESSAGE. CALL ME.