Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

could wait for an update until tomorrow. She frowned at the thought of how he would react to what she'd done. He'd been so firm about her not going to the authorities and endangering herself and her parents. And he would certainly not be happy to learn that she had flown to Florida to see David, but she was sure she could reassure him, once—
    Her thoughts froze and hung in space for her to examine. Did she really want to reassure him again? Did she honestly look forward to reestablishing their relationship on the same old ground now that David had exited from her life? Could she truly be satisfied being with Philip because it was better than being alone? An image of April and Theodore flashed in her mind.
    Although she had repeatedly turned down Philip's marriage proposals and told him numerous times that she didn't love him the way he loved her, hadn't she also allowed him to think that her feelings might change someday? In other words, hadn't she purposely kept him dangling at arm's length just so she wouldn't be all alone? Somehow, she had always justified it before, convincing herself that he was as pleased with their relationship as she was.
    How cruel she had been!
    What she had been doing all these years was not that much better than what Ziegler and Frampton had done to her, or what David and she had done to each other. Using another human being without concern for their feelings was despicable, no matter how that use was softened or sugar-coated.
    She had to put an end to the lies. Even if it hurt Philip terribly to hear the truth, eventually he would be better off than waiting forever for something that was never going to come. And if he chose to end their friendship, or even their professional relationship, she would manage... somehow.
    With that decision made and put off till tomorrow, she found she could think more clearly about her most immediate dilemma. Quick had told Varden to check car rentals from the Miami airport. To rent a car, one had to show a driver's license, a major credit card and sign an agreement. Since she hadn't done any of that, there would be no doubt about her having remained in the airport while Frampton was being murdered.
    Unless I hitched a ride, or stole a car, or forced someone at gunpoint to be my driver, then killed that person as well. Those alternatives were so ludicrous, they made her smile. But that was because she knew she could never do those things. What might an FBI agent think who didn't know her personally?
    Her smile vanished. Regardless of what the law stated, they could think she was guilty until proof of her innocence was established.
    Holly didn't remember seeing the desk clerk at the hotel when she had gone looking for something to read. That left only the maintenance woman. Surely they would find her, and she would remember giving the book to the lady in front of the newsstand. Wouldn't she?
    Suddenly she realized how general her description of the woman had been—between thirty-five and fifty years old, shorter and plumper than she, wearing a green or blue uniform with a printed scarf covering her hair, and slightly accented speech, probably Spanish. Would that be enough? Would the woman have any better recollection of what Holly looked like? How hard would the agents in Miami work to find the woman?
    Holly forced herself to leaf through the magazines Quick had given her, but with each passing minute, her fears mounted. If only she could talk to David....
    No! Thinking about him was worse than considering what would happen to her if they didn't find the maintenance woman, or if they found her, but she didn't remember Holly. David simply represented another part of her life to be boxed up and stored away behind a carefully locked door, to be ignored, if not completely forgotten. She reminded herself of what April had told her. David was practice, nothing more. And now, practice was over.
    At one in the morning, Agent Varden took Holly home. Outside of the office, the agent relaxed considerably.
    "Please call me Diane. This situation is difficult enough without the formality."
    "Thank you. I prefer Holly, also. Are you allowed to tell me what you learned?"
    Diane asked for directions to Holly's apartment and got them on their way before filling her in on her progress. "So far, so good. Your schedule checks out the way you gave it. There's no record of your renting a car, no regular taxis took a passenger to and from Boca Raton during the hours in question,