“—besides, guys always think we’re twins which is another excellent icebreaker.”
“Sure, play on people’s incest fantasies, that’s cool.”
“—and aren’t you the least bit curious about how dreadlocks would feel running over your naked body?”
“Like greasy ropes I’m sure. No thanks.”
Ash exhaled irritably. “What is your deal? You’re snarky, even by your already low standards. Did you see your cop or something?”
Julia’s heart thumped loudly. “No I haven’t seen him.”
“You’re justhopingto see him?”
She winced. Her sister played up the white-trash angle but she didn’t miss a trick.
“No and he’s notmy cop. He’s one of the many cops I fix shitty, outdated computers for.”
“Except much, much sexier.”
“And much more married,” Julia said, partly to her sister, mostly to herself.
Her phone beeped, informing her the battery was nearly empty. “I’ve gotta go, Ash. If you don’t hear from me, have a great weekend. Say hi to Blake and the gang.”
“I will. Think, now you’ll have the whole place to yourself to unleash all your married-cop sexual energy.”
Julia closed her eyes. “That’s disgusting. Goodbye.”
With one last snigger, Ash hung up.
“Heathen,” Julia announced to no one in particular.
On the pathetic-ness scale, bailing on a party to draw pictures in your bedroom had to be an eight but the effort it would require to get dressed up, make fake smiles and awkward conversation until people were drunk enough to let go of their nervousness…who could be bothered? It was easier to go home, cuddle the dogs, and work on Scarlett Woman. Love and sex were a gamble, work and leftover Chinese food were satisfying if slightly pathetic guarantees.
Julia finished packing the last of the computer cords, standing on her tippy toes to place them high on the shelf. She was five ten in boots and this was one of the only circumstances in which she was grateful for her height; reaching the top of shelves, no stepladder required.
“Well that’s that,” she said just to hear the words echo around her. She dusted her hands on her black jeans, picked up her satchel, and strode to the door.
She stopped dead and blinked, convinced her eyes were mistaken. The door was closed. With slick fingertips, she reached for the handle and turned. It didn’t budge. White-hot panic licked up her wrist like fire. She shook the handle again, making it rattle like a machine gun. Nothing. Her chest expanded and contracted, expanded and contracted. Someone, some life-ruining, IT woman-hating idiot, had pushed the encyclopedia to the side, locking her in the property office. Julia moaned softly. Brenthill was a twelve-hour station. There was no night shift, there was no weekend shift, and it was seven o’clock on a Friday.
“No.” Julia slapped the closed door. “No, no, please no.”
She froze. Digging through her bag, she pulled out her phone, which was hovering at a terrifying three percent battery and called Ash. It rang once, twice, three times. Julia held her breath, praying this would work.
“Jules? What’s—” Her sister’s voice disconnected.
“Shit!”
Before Julia knew what she was doing, she’d flung her phone across the room. It shattered against a shelf of power tools with a tinkling crash. She gripped her hair. How many years of bad luck did you get for smashing your phone? A million? She forced herself to think. There was still a chance someone was in the building. Julia flung down her satchel and banged on the door like a war drum. “Hello? Hello? I’m trapped in here!”
Minutes passed and her palms and neck grew slippery. There was no food in the property office, no bathroom…Christ, was there enough air? She bashed at the door, trying not to scream like a victim in a horror film. She couldn’t die in here, not when Scarlet Woman was painfully close to completion. Not when the best relationship she’d ever had was one night when she was eighteen. Throwing caution to the wind, Julia screamed. How had this happened? How could she have been stupid enough to agree to work alone in a locked room? She screamed again and this time she kept going until her throat burned and her eyes watered. She was breathless, teetering on the edge of blackout when she heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Footsteps, blessed human footsteps.
“Hey! Hey! Is someone in there?”
It was a man’s voice, calm and controlled and instantly she knew it was a cop. Relief blasted through her so all-encompassing she could barely speak. She slapped at the door trying to tell her would-be rescuer she was alive and in need of evacuation.
“Hang on a second,” the cop barked. “I’ll go get the spare keys.”
There was a pounding of feet as her rescuer dashed away. Julia inhaled, trying to calm her racing heart. The footsteps returned. Whoever this cop was, he was quick.