Читать книгу False Impressions - Laura Caldwell, Leslie S. Klinger - Страница 15

8

Neither of them noticed anyone but each other that night, not Madeline or the redhead.

For nearly two hours they talked, a friendship seeming to grow on the spot. How easy it was for Madeline to connect with people when she wanted. It was always about what she wanted.

They drank the martinis Madeline loved, their camaraderie, their growing interest in each other obvious.

Then the redhead was alone. She was looking around, apparently for Madeline, who had been gone from the table for quite a while. It was almost laughable. At least someone else was being treated badly by Madeline Saga, being ignored and made to feel as if they were nothing.

So, really, it wasn’t surprising that neither of the women had noticed someone watching them.

But the cop who had shown up? That had been a surprise. The redhead was walking up and down the street when the police car had arrived.

She and the cop talked, then the redhead got into the car. What had the woman done? And yet, the redhead hadn’t been handcuffed. Was she being taken in for some kind of questioning? Could this be about what was going on with Madeline’s art? What was going on here?

A short time ago, just inside the club, there had been amusement that someone else was being treated poorly by Madeline Saga. And yet now there was only fear, a sense of being out of control.

There was a measure of relief when the police car pulled away.