Almost Collide
1254 Words
CHAPTER 6
The text came at 6:03 a.m. Unknown number. One photo attached.
It was Clara. Walking out of the elevator on the 22nd floor. Head down. Face pale.
The timestamp read: 10:16 p.m. Two nights ago.
Kendrick stared at it for 40 seconds without blinking.
Then he called the number.
"Wrong number," a voice said, and hung up. He didn’t believe it.
Kendrick drove to the hotel at 7 a.m.
The lobby was empty. The concierge from Tuesday night was gone. Replaced by a woman who didn’t remember anything.
"Room 2204?" she said. "That’s a premium suite. I can’t give you guest info."
"I’m not asking for info," Kendrick said. "I’m asking if you saw a woman. Late 30s. Brown hair. She looked sick.
The woman frowned. "I can’t"
"Please," Kendrick said. "It’s important.
She hesitated. Then shook her head. "I’m sorry. Privacy policy.
Kendrick left a business card. "If you remember anything, call me.
He walked out feeling like he was chasing smoke.
He went back to his car and opened his laptop. He called the client he’d met with Tuesday night.
"You still know the manager at the 5th Ave hotel?" he asked.
"I need to know who booked Room 2204 that night."
The client called back 20 minutes later. "L. Black. That’s all they’d give me."
Kendrick knew that name.
He’d seen it on a court document six months ago. A harassment case. Dismissed for lack of evidence.
The plaintiff’s name was redacted.
He called his lawyer.
"I need everything on Liam Black," he said.
"That’s gonna cost you," his lawyer said.
"I don’t care."
Liam was watching. He had a feed from the hotel lobby. He’d set it up when he booked Room 2204. He saw Kendrick leave.
Liam opened a folder on his laptop. Inside were 14 photos. All of Clara. All from Tuesday night.
Some were close. Some were wide shots from across the street. He picked one. Clara in the elevator, eyes closed, hand on her stomach.
He typed a message to an unsaved number: Phase 1 complete. Ready for Phase 2.
The reply came in 8 seconds: Send it.
Liam hit send.
Clara went to St. Mary’s at 10 a.m.
She didn’t have an appointment. She just needed to hear a voice that wasn’t Liam’s.
The billing desk was empty. The nurse at the front recognized her.
"Ms. Carter," the nurse said. "We haven’t received payment.
"I know," Clara said. "It’s coming Friday.
The nurse looked uncomfortable. "Your treatment is suspended until we do. I’m sorry.
Clara nodded. She’d expected this.
"What if I can’t pay Friday?" she asked.
The nurse didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Clara walked out before she cried.
Outside, the black SUV was parked across the street.
The man inside lowered his phone as she walked past.
Clara didn’t see him.
Kendrick spent the day digging.
L. Black. No record. No address.
But the credit card used to book Room 2204 traced to a shell company in Delaware.
Liam Black Enterprises.
He called his lawyer again.
"I need everything on Liam Black," he said.
"That’s gonna cost you," his lawyer said.
"I don’t care."
He hung up and drove to Clara’s apartment.
He hadn’t been there since she moved out three months ago.
Daniel opened the door.
"Dad?" Daniel said. "Mom’s at the hospital."
"I know," Kendrick said. "Can I come in?"
Daniel stepped aside. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
Kendrick saw the medical bills on the kitchen table. Overdue. Final notice.
He saw the photo on the fridge. Clara, Daniel, and him. Two years ago. Before the divorce. Before the cancer.
He picked it up.
"Mom’s sick," Daniel said quietly. "Really sick."
"I know, bud," Kendrick said.
He didn’t say that he thought he’d seen her two nights ago.
He didn’t say that he thought she was with another man.
He didn’t say that he didn’t know what to do.
At 9 p.m., Liam sent another text.
This one went to Clara’s phone.
And to Kendrick’s.
The same photo. Clara in the elevator.
The message read: You both should see this.
Clara saw it first. She sat in her car outside Daniel’s school, staring at the screen. Her vision blurred.
She called Liam. He answered on the first ring.
"Why?" she said.
"Because it’s time," Liam said. "Friday. 9 p.m. Room 2204. Bring Daniel."
Clara froze. "What?"
"You heard me," Liam said. "Or I send this to every parent at his school. And to your ex-husband."
The line went dead.
Clara threw the phone. It hit the dashboard and cracked.
She remembered the check on the dresser Tuesday night. It had cleared Monday morning. The pharmacy called her at 9 a.m. Her dose was approved.
She didn’t cry. She couldn’t afford to.
Kendrick got the text while sitting in his car outside Clara’s apartment.
He looked at the photo. Then at the apartment window on the second floor. The light was on.
He didn’t know if Clara was in there. He didn’t know if she’d see the text too.
He called her number.
Voicemail.
"Clara," he said. "It’s me. Call me. Now."
He hung up.
He didn’t know about Liam yet. He didn’t know about the black SUV. He didn’t know that Friday was 48 hours away.
Liam sat in Room 2204, watching the live feed from Clara’s phone. He’d installed malware when she used the hotel Wi-Fi Tuesday night.
He could see her screen. Her location. Her contacts.
He watched as she deleted his number.
He smiled. It didn’t matter.
He had the photos. He had the leverage. He had Friday.
Clara drove home in the rain. Again.
She parked two blocks away and walked. She didn’t want Daniel to see the car. She let herself in quietly.
Daniel was asleep on the couch, homework half-finished on the coffee table.
Clara covered him with a blanket. She looked at his face. Peaceful. Safe. For now.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number again. Another photo.
This one was clearer. Her face was visible.
The message read: 48 hours.
Clara put the phone in a drawer. Locked it. She couldn’t deal with it tonight. She had to keep it together until Daniel was asleep. Then she’d figure it out.
She had to.
Kendrick didn’t sleep. He sat in his apartment, staring at the photo.
He kept replaying Tuesday night. The elevator. The woman with brown hair. The way she’d looked up for half a second.
He was sure it was her. But why was she there? Who was she with? And why was someone sending him photos of it?
His phone rang. Private number.
He answered.
"Mr. Carter," a voice said. "We need to talk about your ex-wife."
Kendrick stood up. "Who is this?"
"The man who has the evidence you need," the voice said. "Meet me tomorrow. 8 p.m. The parking garage on 5th and Main. Come alone."
The line went dead.
Kendrick looked at the photo again. Clara’s face. Pale. Tired. Scared.
He didn’t know what was happening. But he knew he wasn’t letting it go.
Friday was coming.
Room 2204 was booked.
Liam was waiting.
The photos were ready.
Clara had 48 hours to decide.
Kendrick had 48 hours to find out the truth.
And somewhere across the city, the man in the black SUV was taking more pictures.
The hallway between Room 2204 and Room 2210 was still empty.
But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Almost collided.
Almost found out.
Almost over.
Not yet.
- Writer
