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“This ismyroom,” he announced, exasperated. “The guest room is across the hall.”
“But who’s that?” I said, jabbing my finger at the stranger.
“This is my boyfriend, Dan.Jeez.”
“Oh, sorry, sorry,” I said, now seeing my mistake. I apologized to his boyfriend, too, and as Jamie joined us, to her as well. And then without any warning, I started to sob, unable to contain my panic any longer.
“Skyler, don’t worry,” Jamie said, touching my shoulder. “As you can see, she’s not here, but I’m sure she’s okay.”
How could she be so stupid? Chloewasn’tokay, and nothing could be more obvious.
“What’s going on?” Dan asked, moving toward us. His dark eyes registered concern.
Rob briefly explained the situation, and, as Dan nodded sympathetically, I remembered seeing him at the party. He’d been in the kitchen as I’d passed through on my search for Chloe, supervising the beer and wine table. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater and took a couple of desperate breaths, forcing myself to calm down.
“You were tending bar the other night, right?” I asked Dan.
“Sort of. The party was supposed to be only for college friends, but all of a sudden these dudes we didn’t know crashed it and started guzzling down all the booze. I don’t drink, myself, so I told Rob I’d hang in the kitchen and keep an eye on things.”
“Do you remember seeing my sister?” I asked desperately. “She’s a blonde, super pretty, about five three.”
“I remember someone who looked like that.”
“Not the blonde with really long hair,” I clarified. He might have been thinking of the one Ryan saw jumping into the car. “My sister’s is shoulder-length.”
“Yeah, I know who you mean. In a tight blue top.”
“Yup, that’s her. What was she doing when you saw her? Was there someone with her?”
He shook his head and grabbed a T-shirt from the end of the bed. “When I saw her, she was by herself, but it seemed like she had a date—because the second or third time she came through the kitchen, she had a sweater around her waist. Big, like it probably belonged to a guy.”
“Right, right,” I said. So he had noticed it, too—the hunter-green sweater. A crewneck, I vaguely remembered.
“I think she might have gone somewhere with him after that,” he added, pulling the T-shirt over his head.
“In a car?” I exclaimed.
He shook his head again. “I don’t think so. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the cooler, and when I suggested she put it back and pour a glass instead, she just gave me this flirty smile and kept going.”
“Goingwhere?” I pleaded.
“She went out the kitchen door to the backyard. I’m pretty sure I didn’t see her again after that.”
My knees buckled. Chloe, I realized, might still be here on the property, but not inside the house. I’d been looking in all the wrong places.
22
Now
AFTER GRABBING MY TOTE BAG FROM BENEATH THE TABLE, Islowly head down the stairs of the restaurant, doing my best not to snag Deacon’s attention, which isn’t hard. He looks too enamored of his date to notice anything else in the room.
I hurry outside and dash across Hudson Street with a pit in my stomach. As much as it sickened me to picture Deacon in my apartment, at least he was the devil I knew, which gave me the tiniest sense of control. Now I’m dealing with the complete unknown.
I walk for about five blocks without even paying attention to where I’m going and finally realize that I’m headed down Bedford Street when I should be traveling north and east. As I do some zigzagging to get back on track, my phone rings. It’s Nicky.
“Am I speaking to Skyler Moore, the famous collage artist?” she asks when I pick up, her voice full of her typical joie de vivre.
I smile. “In my dreams.”
