He pulled over to the curb and she hopped out. She looked up and down the street. They were very near Hastings House. In fact, she could see the subway station she would have used if she’d needed to.
She was surprised by the number of women working the area. She never would have suspected it. By day, this was a business area. There were only a few hotels, and those median-range—business range—in price. Maybe not such a bad place to turn tricks after all, now that she thought about it.
She didn’t look for Didi Dancer. She just stood on the street and closed her eyes, trying to get a feel for something.
“Honey, are you all right?”
She looked up at the tall woman in the very short skirt who had stopped to talk to her. Definitely dressed for business.
“Fine, thanks.”
“I thought you were going to pass out there, for a minute. Well, if you’re all right…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Honey, you look as innocent as a lamb. Are you lost? You really shouldn’t be out here alone at night. I mean…crime is down big time in the City, but still…”
“Are you Didi Dancer?” Leslie asked.
The woman stepped back, looking suspicious.
Just then Joe got out of the car and started walking in their direction. Didi took another step back.
“Didi,” Joe said.
She just waited, keeping her distance, a frown furrowing her features.
Joe reached them. “I got you that job interview,” he reminded her softly.
Didi looked at him. “And it’s not till next week. Gotta eat till then,” she murmured. “This the girlfriend? Looking for a three-way or something?” she demanded.
Leslie had the feeling the woman was just trying to be harsh. “I’m trying to help Joe find the women who’ve disappeared.”
“You mean you’re trying to find the rich girl,” Didi said.
“Hey, what’s the matter, Didi?” Joe asked. “You said you wanted to help.”
Didi let out a sigh, but her eyes were still suspicious when she looked at Leslie. “There’s something about her….” she murmured.
“Will you show me where the car was—the dark sedan—when Genevieve O’Brien got into it? Please?” Leslie said.
“Right there.” Didi pointed ten feet down the block. “I remember because of the fire hydrant. I knew when the guy pulled over that any idiot would know not to even pretend to park there.”
Leslie walked over to the spot as Didi and Joe just watched her.
At first she felt nothing but the night air, heard nothing but the normal sounds of the city.
A cat meowed.
A dog barked.
A car backfired, and a horn blared.
Rap music shook the pavement as someone drove by with the radio cranked up.
What am I doing? she asked herself. It’s not like I have ESP.
But she closed her eyes anyway, saw the picture of Genevieve O’Brien in her mind’s eye.
The sounds of night faded. She imagined the street as it must have been that night. She could see Genevieve, passionate, urgent, trying to convince Didi that she had to get out of this life and help herself. And then…
She heard the car horn.
Genevieve turned….
And recognized the person in the car.
Not a friend!
That sensation swept through Leslie fiercely. Not a friend, but still someone she knew. Someone who bugged her, who compounded the headaches of the system, who didn’t care about the work that needed to be done.
Genevieve was irritated as she walked over to the car.
Leslie could almost hear the man’s voice.
Get in and we’ll talk about it. I’ll even give you a ride home.
So Genevieve got in. She had no inkling of danger.
Not until they had been driving for several minutes. Then, with one hand on the wheel, he had turned to her while she was talking about the issue and snapped something with his free hand. She frowned, still not alarmed, until he pressed his hand over her mouth and a sickeningly sweet smell filled her nostrils….
No! She struggled, tried to fight, tried to push away his hand. He was still driving, and there were people around, if she could just scream, fight, bang on the window….
But she couldn’t. She was losing consciousness. And she knew…
“Leslie!”
Leslie heard her own name and the spell was broken. The feelings, the vision, faded away.
The next thing she knew, Joe’s arms were around her as she realized she had been about to crash to the pavement.
“I knew there was more to that bump on the head,” he announced. “I’m getting you home.”
“No, no. Please,” she protested, somehow finding the strength to stand. “My head is fine.”
What on earth had just happened? She’d never experienced anything like that before. And she’d thought talking to ghosts was weird?
Didi was staring at her as if she were an alien.
Leslie gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sorry.”
“You a psychic or something?”
“No,” Leslie demurred, but the woman was still staring at her, as was Joe. “Well, kind of,” she admitted uneasily. “Sometimes I get…sensations. You know, when someone is…”
“Dead?” Didi asked flatly.