He didn’t either. But it was something.

“Thanks,” he said and slipped a card from his wallet. On the back he slashed out the digits of his cell phone. “If you think of anything else.” He handed her the card and she nearly crushed it in her fist.

“Of course,” she promised, but they both knew it was a lie.

Tally White wanted nothing more to do with him, nor the memories of his dead ex-wife.

He stepped away from her car as she pulled the driver’s door closed and jabbed her keys into the ignition. A moment later Tally gunned the Volkswagen out of the faculty lot, putting as much distance as she could between herself and Bentz.

So what else was new?

He had that effect on people.

CHAPTER 21

I’m alone in the elevator.

Slowly, with a loud grinding noise, the large car ascends. When I reach the second floor, no one is there to meet me.

Good.

The stark hallway is empty as well.

Perfect.

Quickly, on noiseless footsteps I make my way down the pressboard corridor to my private room, the windowless space where I am totally alone. The place that no one knows about, that no one would link to me. The walls and floor are pressboard and a single bulb gives off a harsh, unshaded glow.

I close the door.

Lock it.

Test the lock to make certain it’s solid.

Then I let out a deep breath and survey my surroundings in this, a place many would see as a cell. But in here, by myself, I’m free. I usually hate being alone, but not here. Not in this one place that is my sanctuary. Here, I’m finally at peace.

On a previous trip to this quiet place, I hung a full-length mirror on one wall—just so I would have company. Across from the reflective glass, I stacked big plastic tubs of clothes and makeup. I also assembled a short rod, screwed it into the walls so that I could hang plastic garment bags of nicer clothes, the dresses and jackets and pants that I kept for my special purpose. I even have a computer in here, a laptop that I can use while sitting on my faux leopard beanbag. The chair sits in one corner with a small battery-powered lamp on a TV tray. All the comforts of home.

There’s a small bookcase, one I put together unassisted. The only books on the shelves are photo albums and scrapbooks, collections I’ve been keeping for years.