I’m not that worried about Mary, but Reggie seemed pretty concerned so I’ll listen to his advice. After all, he’s a cop and he doesn’t strike me as the type to get worked up over nothing. It’ll be interesting to see if Mary shows up at Bedford tomorrow and, if she does, how she acts. If I go in, that is. I’m not sure I will. I haven’t returned Reggie’s call yet. I’m worried about what he wants. I’m not certain, but I have a hunch. That’s the real reason I check into a motel. It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, and though I’m dead tired and crawled into bed immediately after checking into the motel at six this morning, I haven’t been able to fall into that deep sleep that restores your energy. I keep rolling around on the bed, trying to get the pillows right, but it isn’t working. It’s not a bad motel, as motels go. It’s quiet and the mattress is pretty comfortable, even if the sheets smell like smoke in what’s supposed to be a nonsmoking room. I just can’t stop thinking about how Vincent lied to me about Melanie all these years, and how he was so willing to use me as a front for his insider trading scheme.
