Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,26
It’s unnerving. I mean, I make a fist and the knuckles . . . make this sound. And my back. Doctor tells me to walk more. Says it’s normal for my age. Do you think he’s just telling me that because there’s nothing for it? Like I say, can’t complain.”
Her mother snorted a laugh. “Guess I can. Ha ha! In fact, I’m really good at complaining. But actually, on the whole and considering everything, I’m good. Hey, I beat the Big C. What else can He throw at me? Carpe diem, that’s what I say. Carpe diem every single goddamn day. How about you, sweetie pie?”
Her mother actually paused. Diana waited until she was certain her mother wasn’t going to answer the question herself.
“I’m good.”
“Good? Just good? That’s nice. I guess. You getting out of the—”
“Some.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re getting out. And if you’re not, take a vitamin D supplement. You don’t want osteoporosis to get you when you’re my age. My friend Barbara just broke her radius getting up out of a beach chair.”
“It’s too cold here to go to the beach.”
There was a moment of silence. “You know, all I want is for you to be happy. Your sister tells me—”
“So she did call?”
“Last week. She was supposed to call this morning. Monday morning she usually calls.”
Monday morning Ashley usually answered her messages and showed up at work, too.
“Has something happened to your sister?” her mother asked. “Because all weekend I felt like something was off. I thought it was me. Then today she doesn’t call and you do. Dee Dee, is something up?”
Diana cringed at the nickname she’d so outgrown. “Nothing’s up with me, and I don’t think anything’s up with Ashley, but I haven’t actually talked to her either.”
“Since?”
“Friday.”
“Ah.” A longish pause. “Did you check her apartment?”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
“Because she’s not there? Or . . .”
The silence that followed felt laden with accusation, and an image of Ashley, lying on her kitchen floor, paralyzed and unable to reach the phone, floated into Diana’s head.
“If I don’t hear from her soon, I’ll get someone to check,” Diana said.
“When you find her, would you tell her to call me?”
“I will, as soon as I hear.” Diana’s voice sounded tiny and deflated.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up, hon, she always does. Try not to worry too much,” her mother said. Two years ago, Diana would have been the one trying to reassure her mother.
“Good advice.”
“I’m full of good advice. Don’t you know that?”
“Thanks, Ma. I’ll tell her to call. Bye—”
“Shh!” Her mother cut her off. From the day she had been diagnosed with cancer, Diana’s mother insisted that they never end a conversation with any version of “good-bye.”
“Sorry. I meant talk to you soon,” Diana said.
“Knock wood.”
By midday, Diana had worked her way through most of the items on her to-do list plus three loads of laundry and a weekend’s worth of dishes. She’d also polished off the pint of rum raisin ice cream. Ashley still hadn’t called, and as far as Diana could tell, she hadn’t shown up at work either.
If Diana had been a normal person, she’d have driven over to Ashley’s apartment. She got as far as her garage, where she pulled the old shower curtain off the car, a three-year-old, gunmetal-gray Hummer. Daniel’s car. He’d hacked the city’s telephone network to ensure that he’d be a radio station’s 198th caller to win it. It still looked like your average muscle car, but Daniel had had it tricked out with hydraulic lifts that could raise the truck bed and added custom, oversize wheels and tires. The special hubcaps were like black rubber starfish, each chrome tentacle outlined in black. She had no memory of backing it into the garage for the last time, though she must have been the one to do it.
Diana touched the hood, then jerked away as if the thing had thrown off a spark. Just thinking about driving made her nauseous. She would do it one day. Really she would when it became absolutely necessary. But not until she’d exhausted all other avenues.
Maybe one of Ashley’s friends knew something. Diana went back inside and started writing a list of friends she’d heard Ashley mention. The list was pathetic, all first names or, even worse, nicknames. She had no idea how to reach any of them. They’d all be in Ashley’s BlackBerry, which was presumably wherever Ashley was. That’s when she remembered. Ashley’s laptop. It was still sitting on the floor beneath