“Am I making mistake,” Legacy asked. She’d been sitting for hours not under arrest but refusing to talk. The officer had brought her a Coke; the “good cop” she surmised until the other one, the woman sitting with her now, offered her part of a sandwich.
“You are within your rights to wait for your attorney.” The officer answered her.
“My friend, who is smarter about this stuff that I am, he said I should wait but all I want to do is go home.” Her phone, that was sitting on the table in front of her rang and Legacy lunged for it. “Is it okay? Can I answer it?” She asked.
The cop nodded and Legacy swiped aggressively to answer. “Carrie?” She started to cry, happy, relieved, and a bit angry at having been left alone.
“Legacy! Oh my God, Legacy? Are you okay? What happened?”
“Carrie, I’m in trouble. Where have you been?”
“My phone was in the kitchen. I didn’t hear it. Legacy, I’m so sorry. What the hell is going on?”
“Amanda,” Legacy started, aware suddenly that she was being watched and maybe listened to. “Amanda got beat up, really badly and the police…”
“Whoa!,” Carrie interrupted. “How bad? Did she say that you did? That bitch…”
“Carrie, no. It’s really bad! I saw pictures of her. You can barely tell that it’s her. David said I should wait for Jennifer to get here but I didn’t do anything so I’m thinking I should tell them what they want to know so I can leave.” She was rattling off at a mile a minute.
“Did David call Jennifer?” Jennifer Martinez was the same attorney they used for all kinds of things including her recent lawsuit and the situation with Lindsey. But this was a whole different fiasco. “Legacy, Jennifer is not a criminal attorney…”
“Good, because I’m not a criminal!” Legacy began. “David thought I should have her here just in case.”
“I’m on my way! Don’t get yourself in trouble. Amanda has caused enough grief. Whatever is going on, please stay out of it. We’ll fix this. I promise.”
Carrie hung up and looked up for the first time at the worry on Nathan’s face. “I have to get dressed,” she said quietly and began scurrying around with no further explanation.
Whatever was going on, he gathered that it was bad. Even given Legacy’s penchant for the dramatic, something was definitely wrong. He’d get the whole story, he figured, on the way over to the police station. Back in her bedroom, Carry frantically stuffed her hair into a hat. Retrieving his pants from the floor, Nathan quietly got dressed waiting for Carrie to fill him in.
“You don’t have to go.” Carrie insisted. “You have an early morning. ”
“Look, I don’t particularly like the idea of you running off to the police station in the middle of the night but I also know that I can’t stop you.,” Nathan said, sleepily.
“What if this was Ethan? Could I stop you?”
He shook his head, grabbing his bag in case he had to leave from the police station to get to work. “You want to grab a sweater? The police station may be cold.”
Legacy hung up and the officer sitting with her smiled warmly at her.
“I’m sorry,” Legacy shook her head. “I don’t mean to make your job more difficult. I’m scared but I’m sorry you got stuck babysitting me all night when there are probably a lot of other exciting things you could be doing.”
The woman laughed sincerely. “Trust me. A little boredom around here is welcome.”
“You must think I’m a horrible person.,” Legacy muttered, dropping her head into her hands.
“Why do you say that?”
“The fact that I’m here, tells me that you’ve read all the mean messages I sent to her.”
“You did seem pretty angry.,” the officer nodded.
“I was, I am, that doesn’t mean I wanted to hurt her. I want to beat her in business but I’d never hurt anyone. Not like that. What that person did to her…” Legacy shuddered and the officer took note. “no one deserves that..”
“You want to do what I think?”
“I guess.,” Legacy shrugged.
“I don’t think you did anything to her. But there’s a possibility that you know something that might help us.”
“I swear I don’t know anything!” Legacy insisted, sitting up straight.
“Not you know of. It could be a little thing, something that seems unimportant. If you still want to wait to talk about this, I’d understand but we stand a better chance of catching whoever did this the more information we know. And the sooner we know it, the less likely they are to get away with it.”
“Fine,” Legacy sighed. Whoever did this needed to pay. Amanda was not a nice person but Legacy wouldn’t have wished this on anyone. “I have nothing to hide. What do you want to know?”
“How long have you and Ms. Van Dreisen known each other?”
“Technically, you could say years. We went to design school together but we weren’t friends then and we didn’t stay in touch after. She and I ran into each other in the Garment District about two months ago. I thought was a coincidence but I’ve started to wonder.”
“Because it seems like maybe it was planned, though I can’t figure out how. And because she offered me a job right off the bat but then never actually followed through after she got what she wanted.”
“You’re referring to the dress?” the officer clarified, raising her eyebrows.
They had read her messages. “The design for the dress. She took it out of my folio, passed it off as hers, and won a huge job because of it. And she must have done it before because she’s really successf…”. Legacy trailed off.
“It’s probably nothing.,” Legacy paused as she started putting a few things together.
“But it might be something.,” the officer coaxed her.
Legacy sighed, “I was feeling really shitty because she seemed like she… Amanda had really made it, you know? What with the Louboutins and the Hermes bag…”
“I take it those things are expensive?”
“That’s understating it. There are Hermes bags that can cost more than some people’s houses. Victoria Beckham supposedly has 100 of them. Anyway, the one Amanda had was probably around 45.”
“Hundred?” The officer choked.
“Thousand,” Legacy said with a laugh. “But here’s the weird part. I thought she had this fancy studio on Fifth Avenue but when I went by to find her today, it was nothing more than a virtual office where she rents a mailbox for probably 50 bucks a month. She’s just posing with a swanky address.”
“Have you ever been to her apartment?” the officer inquired.
“No,”Legacy insisted. “I have no idea where she lives.”
“Well the apartment where the paramedics picked her up was rent controlled so there is something strange isn’t there? Any chance she owes someone money?”
“Either that or she was screwing the money…”
The officer tilted her head and gave a look at toward the two-way mirror, confirming Legacy’s suspicion that their conversation had been monitored.
“Can I ask a question?,” Legacy leaned toward the officer.
The woman nodded.
“Is Amanda… She looks really bad. Is she going to be okay?”
Amy checked in on Amanda Van Dreisen one more time before heading for an on-call room to catch a couple hours of sleep. The next of kin had been called but, so far, no one had come to see her. She couldn’t open her eyes yet, but she would moan from time to time. This was good and bad. Good, that she might be coming around and could tell them what exactly had happened to her. Bad, because if she was aware enough to mumble and moan she probably knew that she was alone. Nothing felt worse than feeling alone. Amy could relate. Poor girl. Amy adjusted her morphine drip and patted her arm. A long road lay ahead of Amanda Van Dreisen. The best thing for her right now was rest and pain management.
“Please…” Amanda begged inside her head. Her jaw was wired and there seemed to be a tube in her throat and another in her nose ao it was likely that the doctor didn’t hear her. “Don’t go.” She tried again, but again her voice seemed to only be in her own head. By then it was too late. She was alone. The IV of whatever was shoved into her hand barely did her any favors and though she couldn’t see, Amanda was aware, from the sounds around her, that she was in the hospital. She lay in silent terror that he would come back. She’d rather be dead than to face the agony of being pummeled by the leg of her own dining room table repeatedly. Regretfully, she remembered the whole thing. He wasn’t angry and he didn’t yell. He, she guessed one of Richards thugs, just swung away. He’d hit her legs first so she couldn’t run, then her back. She watched her own blood splatter and prayed that she’d pass out from the pain as he kicked her stomach repeatedly and finally beat her in the face. That had finally been enough to daze her long enough for a reprieve. When she came to, there was blood in her eyes and she could barely talk. Her nosy-ass neighbor, who Amanda secretly called Mrs. Kravitz after the nosy neighbor on Bewitched and who usually annoyed the hell out of Amanda because she couldn’t stick to her own business, had heard screaming and called 9-11. Amanda listened to the hisses and beeps of the monitor in the room she wondered if it was possible to will herself to just die.