Page 14 of The Shadow Friends

“She didn’t show up at work,” said Jo. “And she’s not answering her phone.”

The young man yawned again, and he peered sleepily at the driveway. “Her car is not here.”

“May I come in and check her room anyway?”

“Yes, yes. You come in.”

“Thank you.”

The young man was finally starting to wake up, and he quickly clawed his hair into a semblance of order as he led Jo into the house. The living room, like the weedy front yard, was a picture of benign neglect: a faded sofa with sagging cushions, a green carpet, worn and stained by a parade of temporary tenants. He led Jo down the hallway and knocked at a closed door. “Karen? Excuse, please, are you here?” He looked at Jo and gave a helpless shrug.

Jo tried the door, found it unlocked, and pushed it open.

Inside was a twin bed and a pine dresser, cheap but functional furniture for an ever-changing roster of employees. The closet door hung open to reveal a pair of orthopedically practical shoes. Just the type of shoes a waitress who spent all day on her feet would choose. The twin bed was carelessly made up, the halfhearted effort of someone who was too busy to worry about smooth sheets and hospital corners, but it had been made up. Either she had left the house early, while her housemate was still asleep.

Or she had never made it home last night.

Jo turned to the housemate. “I need to ask you some questions.”

He was fully awake now, and by the look on his face, he understood that this day had just taken a serious turn. “I put on clothes.”

The young employee’s name was Andrei Petrov; he was a third-year university student from Belarus, and this was his first time in the United States. His English was excellent, although accented, and he had the old-world good manners to offer his guest a cup of tea. As the tea steeped, they sat on the sofa, and Andrei nervously kept track of the time on his phone.

“I work the lunch,” he explained. “At eleven, I must go there.”

“You’re a server in the restaurant, like Karen?”

“Yes. Today, she is breakfast.”

“Did you hear her leave the house this morning?”

“No. I was asleep.”

“And last night, did you hear her come home?”

Andrei shook his head. “Last night, I work very late, till midnight. When I come home, I think they are both asleep.”

“Both? Who is your other housemate?”

“Hannah.”

“Does she work in the restaurant too?”

“No. She cleans rooms. In hotel.”

As Jo jotted down the details in her notebook, Andrei poured the tea and placed a cup on the coffee table in front of Jo. It was merely everyday black tea, made with a grocery store tea bag, but he presented the cup as if it were a rare and expensive beverage. This boy’s mother had certainly taught him good manners.

“When you got home last night, after work, did you see Karen’s car parked outside?”

He thought about it, then shook his head. “I do not remember. I am too tired. I ride bicycle home and go to bed.”

“It sounds like they work you hard here.”

He gave a half shrug, as if the answer was obvious. As if exhaustion was part of the bargain. “Yesterday, I work double. I serve dinner, and then they need me in the bar.”

“And what was Karen’s shift yesterday? Do you know?”

“Last night, she works dinner too.”