It was tempting to go visit Bradley Associates, which was close by. I’d be welcomed back like a prodigal daughter. Alan would be happy, even though he wouldn’t show it. I could review the projects, catch up with the team, maybe go for drinks after work. A haven of normalcy shimmered like a gold citadel on a distant hill. My mobile buzzed. Without checking the caller ID, I answered. “What the hell is going on, Kate?” It was Eliza Chapman. “It’s been days since we talked and I’m not seeing anything in the papers. When is the story coming out?” “It’s on the schedule,” I lied. “I’d have to check with the editor to find out exactly when.” “Do that and call me back. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll follow up on my own.” The phone clicked off. I stared at the blank screen, then slid the phone into my bag. To hell with Eliza, to hell with all of it, I thought, walking with intent towards Paternoster Square and my office.
