What bothered her most was the lack of security. Her door opened to a second floor balcony with an outside flight of stairs, and there was nothing to prevent someone from breaking in. That was the main reason she wouldn't give Bronco any personal information - not until she knew she could trust him, if ever.
The apartment came with just a few dishes and pans, but no television or radio. The oven only worked half the time. The refrigerator froze almost everything, even on the lower shelves, and her only other appliance was a toaster she bought at a garage sale for a dollar. Therefore, she usually picked up just a few things at a time from the store across the street - things that didn't require much preparation or preservation.
What she had in the way of entertainment was a GSTS company provided phone, and her own laptop with company provided internet access. Afraid of being robbed while she was at work, she was careful to hide her laptop behind her stove each morning before she went to work. Without that and her friend, Bronco, her seclusion would have been unbearable.
She stared at Bronco's picture for a few minutes more before she turned her laptop off, strategically wedged her chair under the doorknob of her front door, and got into bed. She still couldn't get over it. He had been right there in Denver the whole time.
*
Laura was still asleep, and the cook and the chauffer were otherwise occupied, when Teresa went to the Connellys office. It held several bookcases filled to the brim with novels, a couple of brown leather chairs, and a television set that looked older than she was.
She sat at the desk and lifted the lid on her employer's laptop. There wasn't much on the social calendar and when she looked back at some of the events in past weeks, Laura had cancelled almost all of them.
"Probably too drunk," Teresa whispered.
She scrolled forward and found nothing but empty pages, until she got to an entry scheduled for the Saturday after next.
The notation read:
Gladstone Charity Ball - Fillmore Country Club
For a long moment, she stared at the entry. Off the top of her head, she could think of a dozen reasons to attend the ball, especially if Laura and Mathew were going to be there. The ball would mark her last night in America, and by then, what she came to do would be accomplished.
It was perfect.
Teresa opened the top drawer and as she hoped, the engraved invitation was there. She picked up the house telephone and entered the RSVP number.