Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,29
from Copley Square at six.”
“Okay. Friday. That’s—”
“Three days ago. I wasn’t worried at first. I mean, I know she’s a grown-up. She lives alone. Owns her own condo. Has a great job. But she’s supposed to be at work and she’s not in her office. They don’t know where she is.”
“Was she—?”
“Sure, at times she’s a little flaky but she wouldn’t just disappear like that.” Diana knew she probably sounded hysterical but she couldn’t stop herself. “And she left her laptop at my house and she hasn’t come back for it. And she’s not at work or”—she cleared her throat and tightened her fingers around the phone—“I don’t know where she is. None of her friends know where she is. It’s been three days without a word.” Finally she took a breath.
The officer made conciliatory noises. Then: “Could you come down here and file a report? Bring a photograph of your sister?”
Briefly Diana envisioned herself at the wheel of the Hummer. Crashing.
“Wouldn’t it be faster if I e-mailed you a picture?”
“That works too. But there are forms, and questions—”
Diana rushed on. “I asked one of her neighbors to look for her car. It wasn’t in the parking lot. And she said there are flyers stuck in her door. Flyers that came days ago. Days ago!” She choked up and her vision blurred.
“You have keys to her apartment?” the officer asked.
Diana gulped. “Yes.”
“But you haven’t gone there and checked for her?”
“I . . .” Panic welled up in her. “I can’t find the key.”
There was a long pause. “And you can’t come in person and file a report?”
Diana wiped a skim of cold sweat from her forehead. “I’m laid up with a stomach virus.”
There was longer silence on the other end of the line.
Finally Diana said, “Listen, I can’t come. I just can’t. What difference does it make why? This isn’t about me. My sister is missing. Something’s wrong. I know it.” She hiccuped a sob, snagged a tissue, and blew her nose.
“Tell you what,” the officer said. “We’ll send a patrol car over to your sister’s place. Check things out. Talk to the neighbors. Ascertain whether there’s anything to be concerned about.”
If she could, she would have reached through the phone and hugged the guy. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“I’ll call you as soon as we know something. But depending on what we find, you may have to come in.”
Diana couldn’t come up with a reply to that.
Diana paced her house while she waited for the police to call back. She straightened. Washed the dishes that were in the sink. Finally she sat down at her computer and scrolled through header after header of Ashley’s unread e-mail messages.
There she found the most recent message that Ashley had actually opened. It was from APRITCHARD, it was dated Friday at 4:33 P.M.—just before Ashley would have left to meet Aaron at the bar. Diana opened it.
C U @BOUCHEE—LVG WORK NOW
That would be the jerk himself. Aaron, looked like his last name was Pritchard.
He’s been weirding me out, Ashley had said. Checking up like he’s some kind of control freak.
Diana looked up Mr. Control Freak on Google. Back came links to a bunch of social and business networking Web sites. She clicked on the Facebook link. There were three Aaron Pritchards on Facebook. One in Bend, Oregon. The second one had a photo of what looked like an eight-year-old boy. The third one had to be him. His public profile pegged him as an investment banker. Single. Interested in dating. The photo was of a handsome guy with a well-tended beard. He was shirtless, on his back, bench-pressing what looked like fifty-pound dumbbells. Ick.
She’d send him a message, but what to say? She wanted to find out what he knew, not scare him away. She typed:
Hi, Aaron –
I’m Diana, Ashley’s sister. A friend of mine just came into some money and Ash said you’d be a good person for her to talk to. She wants to make the right decision. Needs to decide soon.
She ended with the number of her prepaid cell phone and hit send. She set the cell phone down on the desk. Beside it, her landline sat mute.
She checked the time. Did We’ll send a patrol car over mean right this very second? Even if it did, fifteen minutes was too soon to hear back. She hoped that an officer was at least on the way over to Ashley’s apartment.
Diana turned her attention back to Ashley’s e-mail. She sifted