Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,23

so sorry. Did that freak you out? I thought it was safe to go there, but OtherWorld has become infested with griefers.”

“I know,” Diana said, wiping a skim of sweat from her upper lip. “I’ve run into them before.”

“I shouldn’t have taken you there. Are you okay? I’m really, really sorry.”

“I’m okay,” Diana said, even though she wasn’t. “I have to go.”

There was a pause. “Okay, okay. I understand. Can I see you again?”

Diana didn’t answer. She could still feel lingering shock waves from the explosions.

“We might be safer in the real world,” GROB said with a laugh.

“If only,” Diana said. She watched the clock in the corner of her screen pulsing, pulsing, like a tiny beating heart until the minute was updated. “I really have to go.” She clicked in the transporter window.

“Wait! Listen, if your sister doesn’t show up soon, I might be able to help. I have connections.”

That stopped her. “You don’t think she’s going to show up?”

“Me? You sounded worried that she wouldn’t.”

Diana had to admit, she was worried. “What kind of connections?”

“Access. I can check hospitals. Jails. Passenger lists of transatlantic flights. Reservations at fancy restaurants. Parking tickets. All I need is your sister’s real name, DOB, stuff like that, and I’m on it.”

REAL name? Alarms went off in Diana’s head. Suddenly she was acutely aware that GROB’s voice was synthesized. “I . . .” She managed a weak, “I’ll let you know.”

Before he could respond, she transported Nadia home.

Diana sat at her desk, still shaking, feeling as if someone had reached out in a dark alley, clamped his icy grip around her bare shoulder, slammed her against a wall, and pinned her there. She knew the griefers weren’t his fault. And his assumption that she’d used a fake name for her sister was just common sense. The guy was just trying to help. But Ashley had said she’d be back to get her computer during the weekend, and the weekend wasn’t yet over.

She pulled over Daniel’s walking stick and cradled it in her arms. Eyes closed, she concentrated on her breathing. In, out. In, out. Moving the inhalations deeper and deeper, feeling as if healing pine resin, Daniel’s essence, were flowing off the walking stick and coating her throat, being drawn deep into her lungs and opening the tiniest alveoli. Her breathing slowed.

Being with GROB, or whatever his name was, scraped up memories, not to mention sensations that Diana thought had been smothered. The good news was that she could still feel.

Chapter Eleven

By Monday morning, Diana was acutely aware that the weekend was over. It was barely ten and her in-box was full of messages from Jake that she’d left unanswered but not even a text message from Ashley. Diana was still shaken by her adventure with GROB in OtherWorld, and far too distracted to work. Her morning pill was barely calming the gremlins in the pit of her stomach. Ashley should have been at work, and it seemed unfathomable that she hadn’t bothered to come by and pick up her laptop. Equally unfathomable that she hadn’t answered her e-mail.

Diana called Ashley’s office extension at International Palm Court Hotels headquarters. The line rang five times before the call went to voice mail. Diana pressed zero. An operator picked up.

“Hello, I’m looking for Ashley Highsmith,” Diana told her. “I tried her office, but there’s no answer.”

The operator put her on hold to strains of Vivaldi, then came back and gave her what Diana knew was Ashley’s cell-phone number. “Or I can leave a message for you,” the operator offered.

“So you haven’t seen her today?” Diana asked.

“I’m sorry. Who were you looking for?”

Earth to operator. It was all Diana could do not to shout. “Ashley Highsmith? Your event planner?” She took a breath. “She’s doing such a great job, helping us plan for our big annual meeting there. So calm and competent. I had a question. It was a little complicated to leave as a message, so I was hoping you could tell me if she’s there and if you could find out when she can get back to me?”

“Of course. Highsmith, Ashley,” said the ever-polite voice. “I’ll put you through to her extension.”

“I already—” Diana started. Too late. She’d been transferred. This time she let it go to voice mail.

“Hey, Ash, it’s me. Again. How’d it go at Copley? Curious minds need to know. Please—” Diana heard the offhand tone in her voice turn brittle. She gave in to it. “I know you’re a big

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