twelve

I was swimming for all I was worth, using my arms and legs to reach air from a great depth of murky water. Rotting green vegetation had caught in my hair and my legs, so heavy it was pulling me down. I struggled to free myself. When I woke, groaning, my head was throbbing and I was lying on a hard wooden floor in the dark. I gasped with terror, not able to remember where I was or how I’d arrived there. When I tried to sit up, a sharp pain in my skull took my breath away. Where was I?

Memories filtered back. Moira’s. That was the last place I remembered. But why was it so dark? I lay very still on the floor and noticed that a gray light was coming from somewhere behind the dingy shades. Daylight. How long had I been out? Slowly, I managed to roll over and, pushing against the floor, reached a crouching position. My arms were stiff, but I could wiggle my toes. Gingerly, I reached around to touch the back of my head where it hurt. A good-sized egg had formed there. Someone had knocked me out.

The notebook. The black notebook. I remembered now. I’d been reaching for what I hoped would be the Rosetta Stone of Moira’s life. I was sure of it … and that was the last I remembered.

Grasping the edge of the desk, I pulled myself up and sat on the rickety chair. I reached over to the window and flicked the plastic shade. It flew up to the top. Outside, dawn had come, but a gray dawn that might just as easily be sundown. Had I lost a whole night? Who had been here? And where had they been hiding? I’d checked the whole apartment, even the back door in the kitchen, making sure it was locked. Someone had to have entered through the back door. Someone else had a key to Moira’s apartment. I’d been so busy rummaging through drawers, I hadn’t been aware of any sound as my assailant crept up on me.

Had they taken anything? My purse? My car keys? On the floor, my purse was exactly where I’d dropped it, but someone had pulled out my wallet, leaving it open to my driver’s license. Now someone knew where I lived. More importantly, someone wanted me to know they knew where I lived. I shivered, realizing how vulnerable I’d been. I rummaged through the papers on top of the desk again. The black notebook was gone. I mentally cursed my lack of attention. That notebook could have told a lot. All of Moira’s contacts, perhaps even her recent activities.

I dragged my purse onto my lap and replaced my wallet. I checked the time on my cell phone—six thirty in the morning. The screen on the computer was dark. At least the intruder hadn’t taken it. I debated unplugging the whole arrangement and taking it with me, but then I’d definitely be accused of interfering in a police investigation. If Geneva’s house had been searched, Moira’s had to be next on the list.

The bracelet, I thought. Had the bracelet been taken? I unzipped the side pocket of my purse and reached in, feeling the velvet surface of the box. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could deliver the bracelet to Geneva. Geneva! I had to talk to her. I’d planned to call her this morning anyway, but first I needed to pull myself together.

I stumbled to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I felt a roiling in my stomach and was afraid I was going to be sick. I sat heavily on the toilet seat cover and took deep breaths until the feeling passed. Then I grabbed a clean facecloth, soaked it in cold water, and dumped ice cubes from the freezer into it to make a compress. I found a bottle of ibuprofen in the kitchen cabinet and gulped four of them with a glass of water. Remembering the back door, I hurried across the room and grasped the handle. It opened immediately, to a back stairway leading down to an overgrown yard. Whoever had been here had left by the same route, not bothering to lock the door behind him … or her.

My hands were shaking as though my blood sugar were low. I needed food and strong coffee as soon as possible. Another rush of nausea swept over me. Did I have a concussion? My skin felt cold and clammy. I returned to the bathroom and lifted my eyelids to survey each eye, making sure both of my pupils were evenly dilated. Somewhere I’d read that one normal pupil and one dilated was a sign of concussion. They were both the same, and both responded to the bright bathroom light.

I checked the cabinet, looking for any meds that would be out of place. I found the usual things—toothpaste, antacids, Band-Aids, not even a prescription med. Nothing unusual had been wrapped in tinfoil in the refrigerator, either, unless something had been cleverly hidden inside a mustard container. I’m rather naïve about drugs. I’m not sure I’d even know enough to recognize illicit substances. Maybe Geneva was wrong. Or maybe I was totally the wrong person to be searching Moira’s apartment. Obviously I was, or somebody wouldn’t have clunked me on the head and left me on the floor, grabbing what was probably the best clue to Moira’s life.

My hands were still shaking badly. I didn’t trust myself to stay there any longer. If I passed out, who would find me? The police, when they arrived with a search warrant? Wouldn’t that be just dandy. How would I explain what I was doing? I dragged the chair over to the closet and climbed up to check everything on the shelf. Several sweaters were piled up. There were two boxes, one with a pair of shoes, the other filled with several scarves. Otherwise, the closet held no secrets. I climbed down, grabbed my purse, brushed my hair away from my face and headed out the door, making sure the key with the silver M was in my purse and both doors were locked behind me.

The noises of a city coming awake greeted me as I walked to my car. At the end of the block, I heard the whine of a garbage truck’s mechanism and the clicking rails of a streetcar passing by. My car was still safe. Parked exactly where I’d left it. No windows smashed and thankfully no tickets stuck under the windshield. I glanced up at a street sign that warned No Parking on Wednesdays from ten in the morning to noon. What day was this? I had to make a conscious effort to remember. Monday. This was Monday. I had a client coming this afternoon. I really would have to pull it together.

As I stood on the curb, I spotted a bright yellow sign over a plate-glass window at the end of the street. Nate’s Early Bite. Just what I needed. I hitched my purse over my shoulder and headed to the corner.

The restaurant had just opened. Four men in work clothes sat in a booth while a waitress in jeans and a denim shirt headed in their direction with a large tray. The whole place smelled of frying bacon, toast, and coffee. The same waitress arrived at my table with a large mug of coffee. I ordered a fried egg with toast and hash browns. Somehow my stomach had come back on line. I tried to remember when I’d last eaten. Oh yes, the Twin Dragons, Chinese food with Cheryl the night before.

When my order arrived, I slathered ketchup and salt over the hash browns and wolfed everything down, mopping up the last bits of egg yolk with a piece of toast. My hands had stopped shaking even though the back of my head was still throbbing. The waitress slapped a bill on my table. I left some cash for the meal and a tip and checked the time. Seven thirty. Too early to call Geneva at her mother’s house, and too early to make an unannounced visit.

I left the diner and headed back to my car, parked midway between Moira’s apartment building and the corner. As I walked, I noticed a light-colored, nondescript sedan pull up in front of the building. An alarm bell went off in my head. The car was a little too conservative for the neighborhood. Police?

I slowed my steps and finally halted. I moved closer to a large van parked on my side of the street and peeked around it to get a closer look at the occupants of the car. Two men I didn’t recognize. The passenger door opened and one of the men stepped out. The driver exited next, and together they headed up the stairs to Moira’s.

Once they were safely inside, I hurried to my car and hopped in. I revved the engine and headed home. I’d never seen these two men before, but just to be on the safe side, I didn’t want the police to see me in the neighborhood.