“Addison, Addy . . .”
“What?”
“Where’d you go? You haven’t heard a word I said.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t think we should keep walking. I’m going to hail a cab.”
I nod wordlessly, waiting where I am until he calls me over a few minutes later. We’re at the restaurant in less than ten minutes, but my heart is still racing.
Gabriel’s parents and Hailey are already seated when we arrive, and Gabriel tells them in a long rush what just transpired. Blythe is on her feet immediately. She folds me in her arms. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt! How are you doing? Sit. Sit.”
Ted pulls out a chair, and I take it, still not quite feeling myself. They’re all asking questions at once, and I can’t focus. There’s a glass of water in front of me, and I reach for it thirstily but knock it over instead. I watch, horrified, as the water spreads across the table. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” I push back from my chair before any liquid reaches me.
The waiter is there in seconds and has the tablecloth changed while everyone stares at me. How could I be so stupid? I made a huge mess and ruined everything.
You’re so clumsy! says a voice in my head. You idiot! You can’t do anything right.
??22??
Addison
I can hear my heart hammering in my ears as Ed unfolds a piece of paper and puts it on the table in front of us. He returned from Florida this morning, and I’m afraid to hear what he has to say.
“What did you find out?” I ask him.
His lips pursed together, he shakes his head. “Not much, I’m sorry to say. I did find your guy Frank Margolis. I caught him outside his office building after work. He didn’t want to talk to me at first.”
“Was he hostile? Or afraid?” Gigi asks.
“No. None of that. I think people are just cautious, you know? Some stranger comes up to you asking questions, you feel threatened.”
I laugh. “I’m sure it doesn’t help that you’re six-four and look like you could take him in a fight.”
“Yeah, I figured that too.” He leans back in the chair and crosses one leg over his knee. “He was a little leery at first, but I think I convinced him that I wasn’t looking to make any trouble for him and that whatever he told me would be just between us. Anyway, we went to a bar down the street from his office, and he was pretty open with me.”
“But you made it sound like he wasn’t much help.”
“Well, that depends. I told him the truth. That I was trying to help a girl who has amnesia. I showed him your picture and said you’d run into him last week at the Tradewinds. He remembered you and said he hadn’t seen you in five or six years, since you were a dancer at a place called the Blue Mirror.”
“Did he remember my name?”
Ed shook his head again. “Said he never knew your real name, but the name you used at the club was Juniper. Does that ring a bell?”
My face is hot. I’m mortified for Ed and Gigi to discover this about me. “Juniper.” I turn the name over in my mouth. “No. It means nothing to me.”
“What about the club—did you get to see if they remembered her there?” Gigi asks.
Ed shook his head. “It closed four years ago.”
Another dead end.
“Maybe we can find out who owned it. Get in touch with them and get employee names,” I suggest, although I know it’s a long shot.
“Well, that’s the thing. I had the same idea, so I did a little research,” Ed says, and I can tell he has more bad news. “The guy who owned the bar was a Connor Gibbs. He owed a lot of people a lot of money when he closed the place, and I don’t think they were very nice people.” He stops and strokes his mustache again. “Seems he had a bad car accident after that. He died a day later.”
“So we know nothing. Except that I was a stripper and worked for a gangster. I’m sorry I ever ran into that guy in the restaurant.” I put my elbows on the table and rest my head in my hands.
Gigi comes around to my side of the table and puts her arms around me. “Don’t worry, honey. This isn’t the end. We’re going to find out more, I promise.”
“I don’t want to know anything else,” I cry into my hands. “I don’t want to know.”
She shakes me gently. “Look at me.”
I put down my hands and face her.
“This might not be you. And if it is, so what? What’s wrong with being a dancer? You needed to earn a living. That doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”