“Hey, what’s going on?” she asks.
I explain the situation in broad strokes. It feels at moments as if I’m talking about someone else, someone I knew years ago and have heard these crazy rumors about. Susan tells me to stay calm, that she’ll help me sort this out, and she assures me that before the day is over, she’ll have names for me,
At a little after six, I realize that the bags of chips have done nothing to assuage my hunger, only intensified it. There’s no restaurant at the inn, and the only room service options are small cheese-and-fruit plates. I decide to make a run for food.
After retrieving my car from the parking lot, I end up driving southwest. There’s a small village in that direction called Ballston Spa, which Guy and I passed through once, and I figure I can probably grab a meal there with slim chance of running into Guy or anyone else I know. The trip takes longer than I remember, but once I’m there, I find a place to eat easily enough. It’s a small, wood-paneled restaurant on Front Street, in the center of the village. I settle at the counter and order a burger.
It’s after eight by the time I finish, and I’m surprised not to have heard from Derek by now. I realize how much I’ve relied on him in the past twenty-four hours, and not simply for his willingness to show up at my door after midnight.
So I call him. Five rings and then voicemail. Hearing his voice and the easygoing message he’s left, I admit to myself that I also find Derek attractive, both physically and personally. I’ve got no business thinking about that right now. I leave a brief message and point the car toward Saratoga.
Maddeningly, the return trip takes even longer than the initial one. I lose my way while dusk fades. The GPS lady becomes hopelessly confused, and I find myself for a second time on an empty back road that seems to go absolutely nowhere. Finally I override one of the GPS commands and eventually spot a sign for Saratoga Springs.
Once I reach the inn parking lot, I let my eyes roam the area before exiting the car, just making sure Guy hasn’t tracked me down. There’s no one in sight, though as I cross the lot a minute later, I hear boisterous laughter coming from the street behind me.
Back in my room, I put on the TV and find a movie. I might as well be watching a tank of water. I turn to my computer, checking email for what seems like the millionth time. Gratefully, I see that Susan has sent the names of two firms in Albany, specializing in criminal law, the first of which she particularly recommends, along with a specific name. She’s left messages at both firms, saying I might be in touch. More on divorce lawyers later.
Still no word from Derek.
I finally dress for bed and crawl under the covers. Despite how raw my emotions are, I find my muscles relaxing into the mattress, as if eager and ready to surrender to sleep. It’s because I feel safe here, I realize, away from that big old house and from whomever’s eyes were on me.
I’m not even aware of drifting off to sleep, but the next thing I know, I’m being roused from it, conscious of my phone ringing again. Squinting, I make out Derek’s name on the screen.
“Did I wake you?” he asks before I manage a hello.
“Yeah, that’s all right. How are you?”
“I’m okay, but I’ve got weird news.”
My breath catches. “Tell me.”
“Remember me mentioning that buddy of mine who’s a reporter for the paper here? He called to say that there may have been another murder, and it’s apparently someone who works at the opera company.”
“Guy?” My heart has frozen in my chest.
“No, no—it doesn’t sound that way. The body was discovered at 53 Kintner Road, out in an area called Knoll Spring Park. Does that ring a bell?”
The name of the area is vaguely familiar, though I can’t quite place it. I tear through my memory, only half listening as Derek makes a comment about his reporter friend hightailing it there now, and something about the neighborhood. That it’s upscale.
And then my brain has it. Brent Hess, Guy’s boss. When Guy and I were first engaged, we ended up going to a stiff, dreary cocktail party at Brent’s million-dollar home in what I’m almost positive was Knoll Spring Park.
“No bells, no.” I’m uncertain why I’m not being straight with Derek. Maybe because I don’t want anything leaked to the press until I know what’s going on. “That’s all this guy knows?”
“For now, yes. He’s going to call me once he gets out there, and then I’ll fill you in. You doing okay otherwise?”
“Yeah, though this is distressing. I won’t go back to bed. I’ll wait for your call.”