Chapter 11: The Lanyard

At nine the next morning, I walked into the Laughlin tower through the front doors.

I wore the black dress Nolan's mother had sent, flat shoes, and the plain gold band.

I held the plastic sleeve against my ribs.

The lobby was white marble, forty feet high, with a security desk the size of a boat.

Behind it sat an older guard with a gray mustache.

He stood up when he saw me, and his eyes filled.

"Ma'am," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"You let me sit on that bench five times," I said, gently. "You brought me a cup of water once. Thank you."

He nodded, unable to speak.

Nolan stood at my shoulder, and the whole lobby had gone quiet.

A hundred employees stood in the elevator banks with coffees in their hands, pretending to look at their phones.

"Is she in?" I asked the guard.

"Fortieth floor. She came in at seven."

"Call her down."

"Mrs. Laughlin, I can't do that."

"Call her down, please. Tell her the girl from the bench is waiting."

He picked up the phone.

Daphne Merryman came out of the elevator ten minutes later in a cream suit, with her hair pinned perfectly and two lawyers at her back.

She stopped when she saw me, and the smile she put on was almost flawless.

"Bridget. What a surprise. Did you want a tour?"

"I want to read you something."

I opened the sleeve and held up the ledger page.

I read it out loud, slowly, so that the people by the elevators could hear every word.

"*B. Maslowski. For N. Laughlin. No appointment.* Five times. And beside the last, in green ink, *Not to be admitted. D.R.*"

A woman near the lobby coffee cart put her hand over her mouth.

"That's a forgery," Daphne said to the room.

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