“Must be crawling with—what do you call them? Leaf-peepers, something like that?”
“That’s right.”
The waitress slid his turkey club over to him. Bacon fat poked out from the edges. Wendy couldn’t bear to look at it. Meat had become very unappealing to her.
“You okay?” the man asked.
She took another bite of her salad. “Just not as hungry as I thought.”
She paid her bill from cash in her quilted bag and slid off the stool, smiling shyly at the man, who was shoving a triangle of his turkey club into his mouth. He winked at her, and she reminded herself not to judge him just because she’d given up eating animal products.
“See you around, Wendy.”
“How—how did you know my name’s Wendy?”
He shrugged, swallowing his bite of sandwich. “You just told me.”
No, she hadn’t. She wasn’t stupid. She would never tell a perfect stranger her name. Her father had drilled basic safety measures into her from the time she could walk. With a prickly feeling at the back of her neck, she picked up her pace and hurried out of the diner.
Had he overheard her talking to Juan, Juliet’s doorman?
That must be it, she thought. This was the closest eatery to her aunt’s building, and some of its residents were bound to eat there on a regular basis. She’d been busy with her bags and ID and probably hadn’t seen everyone coming and going.
Looking over her shoulder every few seconds, Wendy quickly crossed the street and walked in what she believed was the direction of the Museum of Natural History, hoping she hadn’t gotten herself all turned around.
When she recognized the planetarium dome, she felt a rush of relief but didn’t slow her pace. She used the Rose Center for Earth and Space entrance and stayed at the fringes of a group of schoolchildren, fourth-and fifth-graders as enthralled by the displays as she was.
After glancing behind her every two seconds for twenty minutes, she decided that the man in the diner hadn’t followed her. She bought a ticket for one of the space shows. When she sat in her seat in the beautiful auditorium, she liked New York again and dropped into her fantasy that she lived here and knew her way around.
Wendy convinced herself that the man had overheard her talking with the doorman but was already on his way to the diner and didn’t recognize her until he was sitting next to her.
No longer feeling so unnerved, Wendy sat back in her seat and focused on the show. She decided she wouldn’t tell Juliet about the man in the diner and how he’d known her name. It was just a coincidence, and she didn’t want her aunt thinking she couldn’t handle herself in the city.
“Is Wendy there?”
Juliet could hear the strain in her brother’s voice. She was working at her desk and hadn’t expected Joshua to call. “No, why would she be?”
“She took off for New York this morning. She took the train from Rutland—”
“Wendy?”
“Yes, damn it, Wendy,” he said with impatience, then reined in his frustration, proceeding more calmly, if a little icily. “She left a note saying she was spending a few days with you. Juliet, if you two planned this little scheme and didn’t tell me—”
“I wasn’t in on any plan.” Juliet suddenly realized what he was saying and felt a crawling sense of dread. “What time did the train get here?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“Good God, Joshua, that was almost three hours ago!”
“I didn’t find out she was gone until now. I stopped by the house—she left a note on the kitchen table. Sam’s been in and out all day, but he thought she was here. I called her cell phone and left a message. I tried your apartment—” He paused, his emotions surfacing again. “I was hoping you two were off shopping.”
“When I was home a few weeks ago, Wendy said she wanted to come visit me, but we didn’t set a date. I was open to the idea, but, Joshua, I’d have cleared it with you first.”
“I know. We argued about this vegan thing last night. I told her to eat a damn steak and put some color back in her cheeks. She looks so stressed out and unhappy all the time—I don’t know what’s going on. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said. She was in a mood. She’s been working on college applications—I offered to help, and she bit my head off.”
Juliet could envision the exchange between father and daughter. “Maybe the pressure’s getting to her—all these strangers looking at her grades, judging her. I remember hating it. Plus, her mother’s not here to give her moral support. She’s used to that, even more so since she was homeschooled.” Juliet stopped herself. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Find her, will you?”
“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”