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Come And Find Me Part 10

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"What was he doing here?"

Gruder took a step back. "Our friend didn't stick around to find out. He was just throwing out his trash."

"Young? Old?"

"Not old." Gruder referred to his notes. "Average height. Dark hair. Jacket zipped with the collar covering the lower part of his face. He had the impression that the man was well built."

Immediately Diana thought of Aaron, pressing his fifty-pound weights. "Well, did he talk to him? What did he say? Wouldn't the cameras out front have caught him? Can you find out?" Can you do it now? Diana could hear the desperation in her voice.



"Why don't we check her apartment, first," Gruder said, tilting his head toward Ashley's door.

She knew that was eminently reasonable, but she wanted to grab Ashley's neighbor and shake him until she knew what he knew. Instead, she took out her keys. Ashley's had a dot of hot-pink nail polish on its round head. She tried to jam the key into the lock but she couldn't make it go.

"Here, let me," Gruder said. He rotated the key and it slipped in. Smoothly he turned it and opened the door.

Diana pushed past his outstretched arm and burst into the apartment. She set Ashley's laptop on the carpet just inside the threshold. Light streaming in through living-room windows seemed to bounce off the white Berber carpeting.

"Ash?"

She almost fell over the pair of red cowboy boots lying in the front hall as she raced into the spotless living room, past the pink-and-green chintz overstuffed sofa and chairs and a gla.s.s coffee table with a drift of mail on it, into the dining area with its plate rail lined with delicate Wedgwood and Royal Doulton, and around through a galley kitchen that Diana knew Ashley rarely used other than to warm leftovers.

She circled back to the cowboy boots in the entry hall. Diana picked up one of them. The toe and ankle were stained with whitish splashes. Looked like remnants of the drink Ashley had told her she'd ended up wearing when Aaron pulled the bar stool out from under her.

"Ashley had these boots on when she went to Copley Square on Friday." She set the boot on the coffee table and began to pick through the mound of mail. Bank statement. Credit-card bill. A big envelope from Staywell Bodyscan that said Here's the material you requested on the front. Flyers from a local pizza place and a Chinese restaurant were there too.

"I guess she's back after all," Diana said. "But I don't understand-" She hiccuped, her voice breaking. It was so inconsiderate, so typically inconsiderate of her sister. She'd come back, long enough to change shoes and pick up her mail. Now where the h.e.l.l was she?

"You want to check the rest of the apartment, just to be sure?" Gruder jerked his head toward the hallway with doors to a bedroom and bath, both closed. "Or do you want me to?"

Diana rose to her feet. She walked past Gruder to the closed bathroom door. She knocked on it. "Ashley! You in there?" She didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. She knocked again, then pushed the door open a crack.

The bathroom had barely s.p.a.ce enough to turn around, and the world's smallest bathtub. There, from a mirror over the sink, her own face gazed back at her.

It had been months since she'd seen her own reflection. Her skin was pale, and her hair-oh G.o.d, her hair-she reached up and touched it. Shapeless curls nearly to her shoulders looked like a dull cloud of frizz around her face. She pushed her hair back from her face. She didn't remember having cheekbones, yet there they were. The dark smudges she'd always had under her dark eyes were more p.r.o.nounced, making her eyes look as if they'd sunk into her skull.

Diana ran warm water in the sink and splashed her face. On the bathroom wall over the hand towel hung the Hypochondriac's Calendar-a Christmas gift she'd given her sister. On today's date, Ashley could have had "such a pain in my neck." Tomorrow: "Bowlegs."

Diana opened the medicine cabinet. A phalanx of vitamins and minerals and herbal supplements stood on its narrow shelves, sorted alphabetically. Vitamins from A to E, biloba tablets, folic acid, gingko, iron pills . . .

"Find anything?" Gruder asked.

"She'd never have left home for an extended period without her a.r.s.enal of pills and supplements," Diana said, holding the medicine cabinet open.

Finally she checked the bedroom, not bothering to knock. Ashley's queen-size bed was neatly made up with a white down comforter and a pile of lace-covered pillows. Along one full wall were shelves and clear Lucite drawers with meticulously folded clothing layered inside. The door to the walk-in closet stood open. Diana stepped inside.

Some clothing lay in a little heap on the closet floor. Diana lifted a crumpled T-s.h.i.+rt and shook it out. The fractured word HACKER was printed across the chest. Diana buried her head in the cotton and inhaled-picking up mostly the scent of store-bought newness and just a whiff of Ashley's licorice.

When she looked up, Gruder stood in the doorway looking in at her. She met his gaze. "This and those cowboy boots out in the front hall are what she had on. She borrowed this outfit from me on Friday."

Gruder's gaze traveled across the rods along the three inside walls of the closet where Ashley's clothes hung, sorted in orderly precision by color and season.

"My clothes she leaves jumbled up in a heap," Diana said. "Hers get princess treatment."

"So she came home, changed, and took off again?" Gruder asked.

"Seems like it."

Diana carried the jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt that Ashley had borrowed from her into the living room. There, she carefully folded them. She picked up the red boots and laid them on top.

She found the leather jacket hanging in the coat closet by the front door. She slipped it on and slid her hands into the pockets. In one she found the sungla.s.ses she'd lent Ashley. In the other, a slip of paper. She pulled it out. It was a cash register receipt from Bouchee on Newbury Street. Friday. 5:45 P.M. A cosmopolitan-Ashley's favorite-a white Russian, and an order of frites. Nearly thirty dollars before tip. The price for cutting Aaron loose?

Diana shoved the receipt back into the pocket. The only piece of the outfit that was missing was the red cap.

Gruder opened the apartment door and held it for her. "Happens all the time," he said. "As far as missing persons go, fortunately for us false alarms are more common than not."

False alarm-was that what this had been? Maybe. And maybe Ashley was back and on her way into work. But it wasn't like Ashley to disappear for days. Not like her to be late for work. Not like her to forget to call Mom on Monday.

Diana glanced over at the coffee table-and not like her to leave mail scattered all over the table.

Chapter Fifteen.

Reluctantly Diana gathered up the clothes Ashley had borrowed and left the apartment. She locked the door, then hung there for a few moments, wondering who had been the last person to lock that door.

Gruder was halfway down the hall. He looked back. "What?" he said.

"I'm just thinking, it's too bad there's no surveillance cameras out here." Then she remembered. "But there are surveillance cameras outside. I saw them. Maybe one of them caught her-"

"If she came in that way." He continued down the hall to the elevator and pressed the call b.u.t.ton. The doors opened immediately.

"There might be cameras in the underground parking too," she said.

The elevator doors had closed before Diana realized that she'd stepped inside without hesitating.

Gruder pressed the lobby b.u.t.ton and the elevator started down.

Diana said, "She must have come back between the time that I talked to her neighbor and when you got here the first time. That's just-"

"A forty-five-minute window," Gruder said.

"It's not like days. It wouldn't take long to fast-forward through the surveillance video," Diana said. "And maybe it'll show the person her neighbor saw in the hall."

The elevator doors opened on the first floor and Diana stepped out. "He had on a jacket. He must have come from outside."

"Okay, okay," Gruder said. "As soon as I get a minute, I'll get in touch with the management company and see about getting access."

It was midafternoon by the time Diana was back in her office fortress. The avatar outfit was neatly folded on the floor by her desk. New messages were stacked up on her screen, including several from Jake. There were automated "Out of the Office" messages from Ashley's office e-mail-replies to the messages Diana had sent earlier in the day. There were more e-mails from Ashley's friends, all telling her that they hadn't heard from Ashley, only increasing a miasma of unease that had settled over Diana. She was not at all convinced that Ashley was fine.

The message-waiting light blinked on the prepaid cell she'd left on the desk. She grabbed it. The only person with that number was Ashley's creepy investment banker, if that's what he really was.

She listened to his message. "h.e.l.lo, Diana? This is Aaron. Ashley's friend. Actually, I'm glad you called. I'm worried about your sister." Well, that made two of them. "Please, call me back." Mr. Don't-Call-Me-I'll-Call-You left his phone number.

She called back immediately.

"Do you know where she is?" Aaron asked, taking the question right out of Diana's mouth. "Is she all right?"

"Why do you want to know?" Diana found herself snapping back.

"We had a . . . a misunderstanding. I've been trying to reach her ever since."

"Since when?"

"Friday. We had drinks and I was an a.s.shole. Afterward, I . . . I wanted to apologize. I followed her but couldn't catch up. I didn't want to make a scene, so I left. Besides, she was already talking with some guy."

"At Copley Square?"

"I was across Boylston."

Diana's hand tightened on the phone. Was it the same man Ashley's neighbor had seen? Or had Aaron crossed the street himself and accosted Ashley? "What did he look like?"

"I don't know, maybe five ten. He was wearing sungla.s.ses."

They all had on sungla.s.ses, she wanted to shout back at him.

"And a Red Sox cap," he added.

Also not helpful. Boston was a baseball-mad town.

Her landline rang. Caller ID told her it was Jake.

"Listen, I'll tell her you want to apologize," Diana said. "But I can't say what she'll do. She's not good at following orders, particularly not from me."

"Or me. Turns out that's what I like about her," Aaron said, and grunted a laugh. "Go figure."

Maybe the guy wasn't a complete and total jerk, after all. The phone rang again.

"Sorry, I've got to take this call," Diana said. "But I'll let her know you're trying to reach her."

"Hold on a sec. What about your friend?"

"My what?" Her phone rang a third time. "Oh-yeah. The one with the money to invest. I'll have her call you." Without waiting for Aaron's response, Diana disconnected.

"I thought you'd fallen off the grid," Jake said when she picked up.

"I did. Briefly. It's Ashley. I thought she'd disappeared. I even called the police." She told him about going to Ashley's apartment with the police.

"So, she's back?"

"Looks like she came back and changed. But she hasn't returned my phone messages and she isn't answering e-mail."

"If she came home in a rush-"

"I'm sure you're right. When I actually talk to her, then I'll be completely convinced and completely furious." Meanwhile worried to death was a more apt description.

Jake didn't say anything.

"You think I'm overreacting," she said.

"No, not at all. Your reaction is completely understandable."

Understandable? She knew what that meant.

"She's probably busy at work," he added.

"Then why hasn't she called me?"

"Diana, your sister's a grown woman. She doesn't have to answer to you-"

"Or to anyone else, for that matter. Believe me, I'm well aware. It's just that . . . I don't know what I'd do if . . ." Diana couldn't bear to even finish the thought. "I don't know what I'd have done without her and you too, Jake. I know I don't say so, but I appreciate your sticking with me." She brushed away a tear.

Jake cleared his throat. After an uncomfortable pause, he rushed on. "You did a great job on the Vault proposal. Very impressive." Diana remembered how hard it had always been for Jake to accept grat.i.tude of any kind.

He continued, "I made a few changes and left it for you. Go ahead and send it. And I invoiced MedLogic. For the hours we worked, plus a little extra for the insult-"

"And time wasted," Diana added. It seemed like weeks rather than just a few days ago that MedLogic had cut them loose.

"I a.n.a.lyzed that log that came back from their hackers.They're using a server named Volganet."

"I saw that."

"It's somewhere in Eastern Europe. Probably Russia."

"Russia? But . . ." Diana remembered Volganet hadn't been set to Eastern European time. "You sure about that?"

"One of their ports was vulnerable and I got in."

Jake had been able to penetrate further than she had. Maybe the hackers had adjusted their system clock to mislead outsiders.

"Did you get a chance to check out the stolen data file?"

"I'm working on decrypting it," Jake said.

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