Heading back through the passageway, I saw that the snow was coming down hard now—and that there was close to a foot on the ground already. I didn’t like the look of it. Getting out to the main road tomorrow wasn’t going to be easy even with the long driveway plowed.
As I dressed for bed, I couldn’t help but think of Beau. If I hadn’t let my annoyance get the better of me, I would have been snuggled up in bed with him in Manhattan right now, instead of being nearly snowbound in a barn with a bunch of totally wacky houseguests who liked to get sloshed or stoned, expose their boobs, and hurl drinks across the table.
Had I totally overreacted about the Sedona trip? I wondered. I knew part of the reason it bugged me so much was that it raised the ghost of the trip Beau had taken to Turkey last summer, not long after I first set eyes on him. I didn’t like anything at all about that trip.
Beau and I had first met in the Buzz office building, on one of the corporate floors. I’d gone up there to talk to someone, and Beau was meeting with the head dude, Tom Dicker, to discuss a documentary film project. When I spotted him across the reception room, it was like being hit by a lightning bolt, and not long after we were having this crazy fling.
He’d been very clear from the start. He was looking for fun, not a relationship—in part because he wasn’t ready and in part because he was heading off to Turkey soon to make a documentary there. I was fine with the fling part for a while, but as I found myself falling hard, I told Beau I needed to break it off. To my surprise he said that he was pretty smitten and asked if I’d give him a chance to mull it over when he was in Turkey. He promised to stay in touch.
But then all I got was one lousy postcard. I gave up after a while, feeling more than sorry about the loss, and became involved with a young actor named Chris Wickersham. I never expected to see Beau again. But after he returned in September, he let me know that he’d fallen for me and wanted to make a full commitment. He sounded genuine, and things had overall been good with us since. Except that I couldn’t unload my doubts. Like I’d told Jessie, I had the sense he’d talked himself into a commitment because he didn’t want to give me up.
I grabbed my BlackBerry from my purse and checked to see if I’d missed a call or text from Beau. I hadn’t. I called his cell, knowing it was still early in Sedona. All I got was voice mail. I left a message telling him I was going to bed but would talk to him tomorrow after his flight landed. I wished him a good trip. There, I thought. I can be a big girl.
I fell asleep pretty easily, exhausted from the group psycho-dynamics of the evening. And then all of a sudden I was awake again and wasn’t sure why. I squinted at my watch: 2:47. The wind was howling fiercely outside my bedroom window, and I guessed that the noise must have woken me. But as I lay quietly listening I heard a sound that wasn’t the wind. Someone, somewhere was wailing.
Maybe it’s just Tommy and Tory having makeup sex, I told myself, but a second later I heard it again—a cross between a wail and a moan, and it was louder now and desperate sounding. I took a deep breath, threw off the covers, and projected myself out of bed. Cautiously I opened the bedroom door a crack. I couldn’t see anything but I heard someone—a woman, I thought—moan again off to the left. I opened the door wider and peered along the corridor.
A complete stranger, a female, was standing in front of the room across and down a bit from Jessie’s. The door to the room was open, and the woman was leaning against the door frame, looking pale and disoriented. She was dressed incongruously in a parka, a flannel nightgown, and a pair of snow boots. Just as I was about to ask where in the world she’d come from, I realized it was one of the two girls who’d assisted Sandy at dinner. Her long curly red hair, which had been pinned into a tight bun earlier, now flew in long strands from her head like wind socks. It occurred to me that she’d probably been marooned here because of the snow and had been given the room to stay in.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, taking a few steps closer to her. “Are you sick?”
“She won’t wake up,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve got to help me.”
“Who?” I asked. “Who won’t wake up?” It felt as if I was in some crazy dream sequence, and for a split second I wondered if she might be sleepwalking.
“Devon Barr,” she said plaintively. “I keep trying to wake her, but she just lies there in bed. Her eyes are open but she won’t say anything.”
Chapter 4
“But—what were you doing in her bedroom?” I stammered. I had no clue what was going on.
“Sh-she called extension seven and asked me to bring her some water. She said she didn’t feel well and couldn’t get it herself.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, hurrying toward her. “What’s your name?”
“Laura. Laura Ash.”
“Okay, Laura, calm down. Let me see what’s going on.”
There was a lamp burning on a bedside table, and when I stepped into the room I saw that Devon was lying on her back in bed, the duvet kicked to the floor. The top sheet was pulled up just to her waist, revealing her naked torso and small, delicate breasts. I moved closer, and when I saw her eyes, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Her eyes were wide open, totally blank, and slightly faded.
“Devon,” I called. “Devon, talk to me.”
Instinctively I grabbed Devon’s shoulder to shake her, and when I touched her skin I found that it was a little bit cool, like a piece of porcelain. Frantically I fumbled for her wrist and took her pulse. Nothing. I felt a tremble through my whole body. Devon Barr was dead.
I spun around toward the door, where Laura was standing, peering into the room and looking helpless. “I’m confused,” I told her. “When did Devon call you?”
“Why?”
“Just tell me, Laura.” Based on the temperature of the body, it was impossible that Devon had just made a phone call.
Laura lowered her eyes, like a dog in trouble.
“About an hour and a half ago,” she muttered.
“What? You mean at like one fifteen?”
“Yes.”
“Where have you been all this time?”
“In one of the bedrooms above the garage. After she asked me to bring the water, I planned to, really, but I was already in bed and before I could get up, I—I fell back asleep.”
“So you woke up about an hour and a half later and decided to just traipse up here?”
“No. Uh, she called again.”
“You mean just before you came up here? That’s impossible.”
“Well, I thought it was her,” she said, her voice quivering now. “The phone rang. By the time I answered, there was no one there. I just assumed it was her calling to see where I was, and I hurried up here. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”
“Okay, I need you to go wake Scott. Tell him he has to come over here right away.” By the look on her face, you would have thought I had told her that a spaceship full of Martians had just landed and we needed to start tearing ass through the woods. “Laura—” She was starting to work my last nerve.
“But I think he’s with that girl. Your friend.”
“That’s okay. Just knock hard and tell him it’s an emergency and he has to come to Devon’s room.”
“What should I tell Scott? That she passed out?”
“No, she’s dead.”