I CALLED BARBARA’S CELL PHONE.
“I’m in New York.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to need some help.”
“What kind of help?” Barbara had not hesitated before. Why now?
“An address, to start with.”
“If I can, I will.” Barbara, my collaborator, coming through again.
“And I’ll need one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You to go there, to the address I want you to give me.”
“Depends on where it is, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve got the kids—”
“It’s here. In New York.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Tomorrow night. When can you do it?”
“Oh, God. I don’t know, George. I’ve only been back to work a few days.”
“Please, Barbara.” I took a deep breath. I forced myself to say it. “I need you.”