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“Okay, let’s just think about this. No need to panic,” I said, but my voice sounded so high and tight in the empty house, I decided it was better for my nerves to not talk to myself anymore.
Maybe Noah’s out with Lucien and they didn’t tell me.
That made sense. Noah was doing better. Taking walks. Maybe he just got bored, and since I wasn’t around, he called Lucien. That didn’t jibe with his “under the weather” comment. Nor his bad day. But it could happen, right? I tried to imagine them together as I dug my cell phone out of my purse. I tried to picture them at a pub somewhere, having a beer; just two guys hanging out.
But Noah doesn’t drink.
“A restaurant then!” I shouted to drown out unhelpful thoughts. I called Noah’s number on my phone. It would ring with a voice telling him my name. He didn’t pick up and there was no option for voice mail. “So I can’t yell at him,” I muttered.
I called Lucien. That one did go to voicemail. I tried my best to leave a calm message and failed miserably.
“Lucien, it’s Charlotte. I might be freaking out over nothing and he’s probably with you. Noah, I mean. Is he? With you? Because he’s not here. I looked all over. So um, yeah, if you could call me and let me know if you know…anything? That’d be great, thanks!”
The wrap sweater I’d worn that night had a pocket. I put the sweater back on and stowed my cell phone there, then conducted another search of the house. This time I looked under beds and behind curtains as if Noah were playing hide and seek with me.
He wasn’t.
I went out the front door, my gaze sweeping the streets right and left.
“Noah?” I called. “Noah!”
I called Lucien twice more, and by eleven o’clock, my stomach was twisted into a knot so tight, I thought I’d throw up my cocktails. The fact that Lucien hadn’t called me back was both a relief and cause for concern. I still held out hope that he and Noah were together. Until he called me back, Noah was out with him and doing just fine.
At a quarter after, I started out the door to walk up and down the street when my phone rang showing Lucien’s number.
Oh please oh please oh please…
“Lucien…?”
“Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I’ve been in transit and didn’t realize my phone was off. Has he come back?”
My heart sank and then took off at a gallop so fast, it nearly made me dizzy. “No, he hasn’t.” Guilt wracked me. This was the second time I’d called Lucien in a panic. “I don’t blame you if you want to fire me. I went out… I left him alone and went out and now he’s gone.”
“He’s a grown man,” Lucien said solemnly. “If he chose to leave the house, that is not your doing.”
“You know it’s not that simple, Lucien. It’s not like you or meleaving the house. On our walks, he’s usually so anxious.”
“You’ve convinced him to take a walk? Outside?”
I closed my eyes against the tears that were threatening. Lucien had been away on business for weeks, and I’d forgotten that too. “God, I haven’t even told you anythinggoodthat’s happened, and now he’s lost…”
“Charlotte,” Lucien dropped his voice, as if he were afraid of being overheard on his end. “I’m in Connecticut. At the Lake residence. I only just arrived and cannot leave again without causing suspicion. I don’t wish to worry Noah’s parents unless I absolutely have to.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “What should I do?”
“Firstly, you must calm down. Wracking yourself with guilt helps no one. It is not your fault Noah left the house on his own. However, given his impaired state, I want you to phone the police.”
I clutched my stomach. “Oh God. Okay. I’ll do that and search the street here. I’ll go crazy if I don’t do something.”
“Be safe, my dear. Call me the first sign of news.”
I hung up with Lucien and called the police. After giving them Noah’s description, I set out on a one-woman search party of my own. I started up the street, eastward. There were plenty of shops and restaurants a few blocks up; Noah might have decided to give one a try. But the fact he could hardly eat in front of me tried to muscle out any positive thinking.
The sky above me rumbled thunder, and a thick humid wind blew my skirt around my knees. An early summer storm was brewing. I hurried up the street, my gaze sweeping right and left, searching. Amsterdam was dark, so I kept going to Columbus, which was full of light and sound and shops that were still open.
“Too much,” I murmured. “I’ll never find him on my own.”
At that moment, the sky broke open and the rain came down.
