Read Online Past Tense by William G. Tapply - Free Book Online Page B

you,” he said.
    â€œMe? Why?”
    â€œI’ve been trying to reach her, too.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI expected her back in the office from your long weekend on Tuesday or Wednesday. She left it a little vague, and Lord knows she’s accrued plenty of vacation time, but—”
    â€œYou haven’t seen her all week?”
    â€œWell, no,” he said.
    â€œAnd she didn’t call you?”
    â€œNo.” I heard him clear his throat. “You’re worrying me, Brady.”
    â€œI’m worrying myself. So she didn’t tell you about our weekend?”
    â€œWhy, no. Did something happen between you?”
    â€œI guess you could say that.” I told him as succinctly as I could about our encounter with Larry Scott at the restaurant, and how we found him murdered in our driveway the next morning, and how the state police had questioned us extensively, and how Evie and I had parted uncomfortably when we got home on Saturday.
    â€œThat’s an awful story,” Bluestein said softly.

    â€œYes. I know Evie’s terribly upset, but still …”
    â€œYou got home Saturday?” he said.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you haven’t seen her or talked to her since then?”
    â€œNo. I’ve left her messages, but she hasn’t responded.”
    â€œThis isn’t at all like her,” he said.
    â€œMaybe she just feels she needs some space,” I said.
    â€œFrom you, maybe.” Bluestein chuckled softly. “I’m sorry. You know what I mean.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “She would’ve talked to you. You said you tried calling her?”
    â€œI left her a couple messages. Just said I hope everything’s okay, check in with me and let me know what your plans are. Like that. I depend on her, of course, but she knows we can manage for a while when she’s gone.” He paused for a moment. “With all those horrible events, she probably just felt she needed to avoid all of us for a while. Evie can be quite headstrong, you know.”
    â€œBelieve me, I know,” I said.
    â€œIndependent. Willful. Stubborn. She insists on thinking things all the way through before she acts. I value that in her. It prevents her from making mistakes.”
    â€œYou’re not really comforting me, Marcus,” I said.
    He sighed. “I’m not comforting me, either. So what shall we do, Brady?”
    â€œI guess I better try to find her.”
    It was a lazy midsummer Friday afternoon, so we closed down the office early, around four-thirty. Julie packed my briefcase with weekend paperwork, as she always did, and I dutifully lugged it home. Both of us knew that I’d probably drop it in the hallway of my apartment and leave it right there until Monday morning, when I’d lug it back to the office. Julie
believed that a lawyer’s work was never done, that it was a seven-day-a-week job. I believed that philosophy worked well for young, ambitious lawyers. I was neither young nor ambitious.
    But I liked to humor Julie, and confessing on Monday morning that I’d been too busy, or too scatterbrained, or too lazy to do my weekend homework gave her something to tease me about, and that made her happy. I believed in keeping my employees happy.
    So when I got home, I dropped the briefcase in its appointed spot beside the door and went directly to my bedroom to check my answering machine.
    No messages, from Evie or anybody else.
    Marcus Bluestein had disturbed me. I could understand Evie refusing to talk to me. But she hadn’t contacted him all week, either. That meant something was wrong.
    So I changed out of my office pinstripe, took the elevator down to the parking garage, climbed into my car, and headed for Concord.
    Evie’s townhouse sits in a development near the Assabet River on the south side of Route 2 just a couple of miles from Emerson Hospital where she worked. The buildings were