disappeared.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Roden walked through the doors of Benlevi's and immediately began perusing the faces of the crowd. He still didn't know exactly what he was going to do. Maybe, just maybe, Esther frequented the restaurant and would be here tonight. He could warn her, or follow her, he didn't know. He just knew from the phone message that, wherever she was, Max was probably not far off. This was a long shot, and he didn't deny it, but if he had even the slightest chance of getting to Max, he wanted to be sure he took it.
As he made his way through the dining room to the bar, his eyes darted quickly from face to face. The time when he had made her acquaintance was brief, but she had looked so identical to Max's artworks that he felt sure he could spot her if she were present.
At this particular time of the evening, the place lacked that overzealous crowd he had witnessed a few Friday's ago, and so he found an open stool at the bar upon which he sat. Several minutes of searching the restaurant's patrons didn't come up with any results. Finally, he started to realize how ridiculous his hopes of finding her were. Obviously, she wasn't present. He even watched the women exiting the lady's room longer than necessary before he could convince himself that she wasn't about to appear from behind the restroom's frosted glass door.
His heart twisted with the reality, and his lungs stiffened. Roden knew he needed to go to the police. It was his only available option now. He'd already attempted to locate Max. The young man wasn't at home. He didn't find him in his studio or at the pub that he occasionally went to. His choices were slim, and basically gone.
Roden reluctantly rose to make his way out the door, skimming the faces just one more time in the hopes that he had just missed her. No such luck. With his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung low in defeat Roden headed for the exit.
That's when he heard a voice. The resonance vaguely familiar, and the tone slightly annoying, could not be easily forgotten. Roden turned his head in the direction from which the voice had come. Sure enough, there she sat at a table for two by the window. It was Esther's snotty friend.
This was going to be embarrassing, and Roden didn't quite know how he was going to put it, but he didn't have time to waste on those petty matters. He took a deep steadying breath, and strode up to the table where the woman sat across from a gentleman.
Roden cleared his throat and proceeded to get her attention, "Your Esther's friend. Am I right?"
She looked up at him, slightly stunned, and then raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Excuse me?" A slight sneer appeared at her lips at the evident displeasure of the intrusion.
"I beg your pardon," Roden felt the embarrassment of the situation just like he knew he would. "Truly, I don't mean to interrupt. But you are a friend of Esther's, right?"
"Ess? Yes," she replied haughtily. "And you are the guy that caused her grief by letting her know that some freaky artist created statues and put them on display for everyone to see."
Roden cleared his throat again, "Ah, yes . . . about that - "
"Maybe it wouldn't have traumatized her so much, if you had let her know ahead of time that one of the sculptures on display was naked!"
Well, that shocked Roden. He didn't really think about the effect that would have on the poor young woman. Not a smooth move for a psychiatrist. Add that to the list of screw ups that their coincidental meeting had started.
She continued, "And now you are interrupting my date in the hopes that you can cause my poor friend more misery? Is that right?"
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. If she responded this way to seeing him because his kindly intended information led Ess to distress (why did he only now
CHAPTER SEVEN
Roden walked through the doors of Benlevi's and immediately began perusing the faces of the crowd. He still didn't know exactly what he was going to do. Maybe, just maybe, Esther frequented the restaurant and would be here tonight. He could warn her, or follow her, he didn't know. He just knew from the phone message that, wherever she was, Max was probably not far off. This was a long shot, and he didn't deny it, but if he had even the slightest chance of getting to Max, he wanted to be sure he took it.
As he made his way through the dining room to the bar, his eyes darted quickly from face to face. The time when he had made her acquaintance was brief, but she had looked so identical to Max's artworks that he felt sure he could spot her if she were present.
At this particular time of the evening, the place lacked that overzealous crowd he had witnessed a few Friday's ago, and so he found an open stool at the bar upon which he sat. Several minutes of searching the restaurant's patrons didn't come up with any results. Finally, he started to realize how ridiculous his hopes of finding her were. Obviously, she wasn't present. He even watched the women exiting the lady's room longer than necessary before he could convince himself that she wasn't about to appear from behind the restroom's frosted glass door.
His heart twisted with the reality, and his lungs stiffened. Roden knew he needed to go to the police. It was his only available option now. He'd already attempted to locate Max. The young man wasn't at home. He didn't find him in his studio or at the pub that he occasionally went to. His choices were slim, and basically gone.
Roden reluctantly rose to make his way out the door, skimming the faces just one more time in the hopes that he had just missed her. No such luck. With his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung low in defeat Roden headed for the exit.
That's when he heard a voice. The resonance vaguely familiar, and the tone slightly annoying, could not be easily forgotten. Roden turned his head in the direction from which the voice had come. Sure enough, there she sat at a table for two by the window. It was Esther's snotty friend.
This was going to be embarrassing, and Roden didn't quite know how he was going to put it, but he didn't have time to waste on those petty matters. He took a deep steadying breath, and strode up to the table where the woman sat across from a gentleman.
Roden cleared his throat and proceeded to get her attention, "Your Esther's friend. Am I right?"
She looked up at him, slightly stunned, and then raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Excuse me?" A slight sneer appeared at her lips at the evident displeasure of the intrusion.
"I beg your pardon," Roden felt the embarrassment of the situation just like he knew he would. "Truly, I don't mean to interrupt. But you are a friend of Esther's, right?"
"Ess? Yes," she replied haughtily. "And you are the guy that caused her grief by letting her know that some freaky artist created statues and put them on display for everyone to see."
Roden cleared his throat again, "Ah, yes . . . about that - "
"Maybe it wouldn't have traumatized her so much, if you had let her know ahead of time that one of the sculptures on display was naked!"
Well, that shocked Roden. He didn't really think about the effect that would have on the poor young woman. Not a smooth move for a psychiatrist. Add that to the list of screw ups that their coincidental meeting had started.
She continued, "And now you are interrupting my date in the hopes that you can cause my poor friend more misery? Is that right?"
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. If she responded this way to seeing him because his kindly intended information led Ess to distress (why did he only now
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