Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,88

along at ground level in a tin can.

She held Daniel’s walking stick across her lap. The pine-resiny essence wafted up. He was still out there. Somewhere. She really didn’t care where.

By the time they’d left the mill, police officers had impounded all the surveillance and computer equipment, including Diana’s laptop. They also seized the black limousine. The Hummer, of course, had vanished along with Daniel.

Diana and Ashley had led the police to the floor where Ashley had been held unconscious. They’d stood by watching as investigators took pictures, lighting up the room in flashes and gathering evidence. Ashley had watched, her arms crossed over her chest, shivering, as investigators collected the IV bag with the tube and needle still attached.

“It feels so weird, standing here. Like an out-of-body experience,” Ashley had said. She told Diana how bits and pieces, mostly visuals, were coming back to her. The rough-hewn beamed ceiling. The restraints—thick Velcro cuffs. The tube through which mind-numbing drugs had been forced into her body.

“You were very brave,” Diana said, putting an arm around her sister.

“I was unconscious. How can you be brave when you’re out cold?”

“Believe me. You were both.”

After a pause, Ashley said, “What bastards.”

“The worst.”

Ashley and Diana had gone from the mill to New Hampshire State Police headquarters in Manchester, where they’d been questioned and given their statements. The district attorney assured them that Jake would be held while the investigation continued. He’d most likely be charged with assault and kidnapping, and depending on what investigators found, there could be charges of extortion and more.

As Ashley drove home along the nearly deserted stretch of I-93, she asked, “So how do you feel now?”

“I thought I’d feel more, I don’t know, elation or something. Paying them back in kind.” Diana stared out the window at the blur of trees that lined the road. “Instead, I guess I’m just sad. Disappointed that they weren’t who I thought they were. Disappointed in myself that I was so willingly gulled. Disgusted, really.” A sign on the side of the road, MASSACHUSETTS WELCOMES YOU, flew by. “Most of all, ready to move on.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ashley said, and flashed her a tired smile.

It was near dawn by the time they got back to Ashley’s apartment. Ashley called in sick, and both she and Diana slept straight through the morning. That afternoon, Ashley drove Diana home. She parked in front of the little house where they’d grown up.

“We should probably call Mom,” she said.

“It’s Friday. She’ll think something’s wrong,” Diana said.

“She already knows something’s wrong.”

Ashley got out of the car. Diana followed her to the front door. All it took was a turn of her house key to get inside. Except for a trail of dirt on the carpet that must have gotten tracked in when Jake and Daniel were moving her things, the living room looked untouched.

She raised the shades, then walked from room to room, letting in light. In her bedroom, she made a mental note—later she’d get out on Craigslist and find herself another bed. She never again wanted to see the one that she and Daniel had shared.

She stood in the doorway of her barren office and looked at the empty tables and shelves. The Peruvian wall hanging seemed like it was trying too hard. Maybe she’d get a Ping-Pong table. Or a cushy leather sectional couch and a mammoth TV screen. Or maybe not. The only thing she knew for sure was that Gamelan was officially out of business.

It seemed oddly comforting when the doorbell rang without the Klaxon going off first, with no monitor to show who was standing on her doorstep.

“I’ll get it,” Diana called to Ashley.

She returned to the front door and looked out through the peephole. At first, it didn’t look as if anyone was there. Then she saw a hand wave, and below that just the top of a head with white-white hair.

“Pam!” Diana pulled open the door and Pam’s wheelchair whirred across the threshold.

“Okay, this is going to be a joint project,” Pam said. “I brought the booze.” She handed Diana a bottle of brandy. “We need three stiff shots.”

Diana passed the bottle to Ashley. “Can you open this and do the honors?”

Ashley disappeared into the kitchen and came back with three juice glasses. She set them on the coffee table, pulled the cork from the bottle, and poured a few fingers of brandy into each glass.

“Too bad this won’t fit into the fireplace as is,” Diana said as she

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