Marla knows exactly what is going on. She’s a real friend of Emily’s and she’s telling me to stop. If anyone should be reporting anything to the police it should be her, not me. She knows what happened on New Year’s Eve, she knows how at risk Emily was and the dangerous game she was playing with the men who took advantage of her. I should definitely take Marla’s advice. I do not want anyone else coming into this apartment. I do not want to disappear.
I take a moment, screw my courage to the sticking place, and type.
Today, 7:32am
Understood.
Two minutes later I’m explaining my decision to Cortez.
25
Not Safe
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14
Cortez is happy for me to drop the missing person report, and why wouldn’t she be. I tell her I’ve been in contact with a good friend of Emily’s who informed me that she was aware of Emily’s situation and that I wasn’t helping. I made it clear to Cortez that I wouldn’t be coming in to report anything, because, it turns out, it’s none of my business.
After the call I immediately head down to reception.
The day receptionist is a man with short blond hair and a tightly pursed expression. I’ve never seen him before but then I’m rarely in the building at this time of day. It never occurred to me that Lucy wouldn’t be available to me twenty-four hours a day but I realize now she must only work the night shifts. She will have left already.
The receptionist looks up warily as I approach. “Hi there, can I help you?”
I hesitate for a second, unsure how exactly to go about getting what I need from him. Whoever came to my apartment last night will have been caught on CCTV and I want to see who it is. I might not be able to help Emily with her problem but I can sure as hell help myself and if I can find out who is threatening me or at least what they look like, then I’ll be a lot safer. Though the thought of seeing them on film entering my apartment makes what happened last night suddenly all too real. I obviously can’t tell the receptionist what happened; he looks pretty alarmist and I can’t risk him just calling the police on my behalf, at least not until I know what I’m dealing with. I need to play it extremely safe.
“This is a strange question,” I begin, leaning casually on the counter, “but do you know if anyone came in the building really late last night? I think someone was pounding on my door or something in the middle of the night.”
The receptionist’s puckered expression shoots up into an arch mask of incredulity. Another actor no doubt. “That certainly doesn’t sound like the kind of thing that usually goes on in this building but I really wouldn’t know what happens here at night. I work days,” he replies, gesturing to what I can only assume is the day. “Sooo…” he continues expansively and then stops speaking entirely.
I wait for him to continue but that appears to be the end of his input on the subject.
“Is there any way to find out who it might have been?” I try.
He shrugs. “Lucy might know.”
“Right. Okay…and what time will she be back?”
“What day is it…？” he mutters and stoops to check a green binder just beneath the counter. “Sunday, Sunday, Sunday…Lucy is in from six.” He looks back up at me triumphantly.
I wait for more but again there’s nothing.
“Okay, so could you perhaps take a quick look now at the CCTV from my hallway last night and see who it was? It would have been between two a.m. and four a.m.”
His expression hardens. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am. I’m not authorized to look through security footage. You would need to contact the management company about that directly.”