CHAPTER 20
I REALISED TOO late that I’d run out of Oliver’s building with no phone and no money. Either the police had them, or they were in the shambolic remains of a glass-and-steel edifice in Rybridge. I could add cancelling my credit card to the list of things to do today, although if someone found it, they were welcome to my bills.
Without the means to contact anyone, I stopped a lady walking a chihuahua and asked where I was. She gave me an odd look but helped with directions back to my apartment. Sick to my stomach from the events of the last twenty-four hours, I set off on the two-mile walk home.
Imogen answered the entry phone almost immediately, sounding breathless.
“Stef?”
“Can you let me in? I don’t have my bag.”
The buzzer sounded, and with the elevator out of order, I c
