CHAPTER

8

TODD RAMAGE FILLED his travel mug with coffee, knotted his tie, and tried Kelly again. He’d already left multiple messages and texts, and every minute that passed without a response, the knot of dread in his stomach tightened. His mind kept repeating the most sensible explanation over and over, like a protection spell—she and Eleanor had gotten a little tipsy over dinner, had a couple more glasses of wine when they got to her house, and Kelly was sleeping in after a late ladies’ night. She’d wake up with a headache because she didn’t drink very often, and call just as soon as she turned on her phone.

But the negative side of his personality, perhaps the most dominant side, looked out at the snow that had accumulated overnight. It wasn’t much, but according to the road reports, there had been hundreds of spin-outs and accidents because it was too cold for the road chemicals to melt the ice that lay beneath the fresh snow. And Kelly might be one of those accidents.

He called the office to let them know he’d be late, then went to the den and started to rummage through Kelly’s desk. He didn’t know Eleanor’s number, but Kelly kept a handwritten log of all her passwords and phone numbers in a notebook with a cute kitten photo on the front cover, just in case something happened to her phone.

In spite of his distress, a smile tugged at his mouth when he looked through Kelly’s precise, rounded script, meticulously organized into categories. She had websites and passwords in one section, phone numbers in another. A third contained significant dates. He saw their June anniversary circled with a big heart, which was a woeful reminder that he hadn’t been very attentive lately. In fact, he’d been a downright bore, consumed with work, new clients, a possible merger with a west-coast firm, and all the rest of the interference life brought in middle age. Time passed too quickly—and why was it the most important things got the least consideration?

Because you take them for granted. You assume they’ll always be there because they always have been. You grease the squeaky wheels, plug holes in the dinghy while the yacht floats away.

He would change things, starting today. He’d buy Kelly roses, then take her out for a lavish dinner at her favorite Italian restaurant. He wouldn’t raise a brow when she ordered the overpriced langoustines and porcini risotto with winter truffles. Over tiramisu and espresso, maybe even some Sambuca, he would tell her they would finally be taking her dream trip to Costa Rica for their anniversary this year. It wasn’t too late to turn back the clock and cherish his goddess.

And what if you’re too late?

Todd shook away the evil, unbidden thought and finally found Eleanor’s mobile number. The phone rang seven times before finally he heard a sleepy, rough voice say hello.

“Eleanor?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Todd. Todd Ramage.”

He heard bedclothes rustling. “Todd?”

“I’m sorry to bother you so early, but I’m trying to reach Kelly. She’s not answering her phone. Will you check to see if she’s still there?”

“Where?”

“At your house. She said she was leaving early this morning and I’m worried sick about her. The roads are terrible.”

There was a long silence before she spoke again. When the words came, they were blurry, formed by lips that hadn’t limbered up yet. “I didn’t know she was staying. Of course, she has my key, she’s always welcome …”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I’m in San Diego. I’ve been here all week.”

He felt a sudden burning heat spread through his stomach and suffuse his arms and neck and face. “You didn’t go to the art opening with her last night?” he asked stupidly, because he already knew the answer. Of course Eleanor didn’t go to an art opening in Minneapolis last night because she was in San Diego, had been all week. There was obviously some misunderstanding, and it would all make sense once he talked to Kelly …

“Todd, tell me what’s going on.”

Everything’s all right, he told himself, trying to keep his breathing slow and even so his voice wouldn’t shake. “Kelly told me you were going to the Rado opening with her. She was going to stay with you because of the weather and she said she’d be home before I left for work but she’s not and I can’t reach her and I’m …”

Worried? Panicked? Terrified? The rest of his words dissolved on his tongue before he could give them voice.

Eleanor sounded wide awake now. “If she was in the city last night, I’m sure you’re right. She decided to stay because of the weather. Let me call my neighbor Roy and have him check, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back from him.”

“Thanks, Eleanor.” He hung up and didn’t let his thoughts go any further.

*   *   *

Royston Wade shuffled across the snow-covered street, head bent against the bitter wind. Damn weather wasn’t fit for a polar bear. He should have gone to Arizona with his wife after Christmas, but he’d been stupid enough to postpone his retirement for six more months. He’d get cut loose this July and, by God, he was never going to spend another winter in Minnesota. This year, he would leave for Arizona in October and not come back until May.

He walked up Eleanor’s driveway and stopped beside the black Mercedes SUV. It was the vehicle she’d asked about, the one that belonged to her friend Kelly. A good two inches of snow covered the roof, which meant it had been parked there for a while. He hadn’t seen the car or noticed any activity here last night, but he’d gone to bed early with a double pour of Kentucky bourbon and his latest copy of Popular Science.

He walked up the front steps and rang the bell, just like Eleanor had asked him to do if the vehicle was still in the driveway. When there was no answer, no sounds coming from inside, he rang the bell again. “Mrs. Ramage?” he hollered, over the wind. “I’m Eleanor’s neighbor, Roy. She asked me to come over and check on you.”

Again, no answer. He rang the bell a couple more times, then knocked hard on the door. Eleanor said she might be asleep, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to use his key, let himself in, and scare the daylights out of a strange woman. Still, he was starting to feel uneasy. Eleanor had sounded worried, and what if her friend was having some kind of a medical emergency?

He knocked again, then tested the knob and took a sharp breath when the unlocked door creaked open. That wasn’t right. Everybody locked their door in the city—at least, they should, especially a woman alone. Hell, he even kept his door locked during the day when he was at home. Nowadays, you couldn’t be too careful, with home invasions and crazies roaming around robbing people in broad daylight.

He craned his head and listened, but still didn’t hear any sounds coming from inside: no TV, no movement. “Mrs. Ramage, it’s Eleanor’s neighbor Roy,” he repeated loudly, then stuck his head through the door.

He recoiled instinctively when a strange odor hit him. It was faint but it was there, bad and wrong. When rational thought finally caught up with his reptile brain, he stumbled backward, almost slipping off the top step. His legs started shaking as he hurried back to his own house as fast as they would carry him. Whatever medical emergency she might have had, he was far too late to intervene.