afraid of what I'm leading up to.'
'Im not afraid of you,' she said curtly.
'Then what are you afraid of?'
'What are you accusing me of?'
'Joanna, I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm only-'
'I feel like you are accusing me, and I don't like it. I don't understand it, and I don't like it. All right?'
She looked away from him and out the side window at the cars and cyclists on Shijo Street.
For a moment Alex was silent, but then he continued as if her outburst had never occurred. 'One night in July, more than twelve years ago, the summer after Lisa Chelgrin's junior year at Georgetown University, she vanished from her father's vacation villa in Jamaica. Someone got into her bedroom through an unlocked window. Although there were signs of a struggle, even a few smears of her blood on the bedclothes and one windowsill, no one in the house heard her scream. Clearly, she'd been kidnapped, but no ransom demand was received. The police believed she'd been abducted and murdered. A sex maniac, they said. On the other hand, they weren't able to find her body, so they couldn't just assume she was dead. At least not right away, not until they went through the motions of an exhaustive search. After three weeks, Chelgrin lost all confidence in the island police - which he should have done the second day he had to deal with them. Because he was from the Chicago area, because a friend of his had used my company and recommended me, Chelgrin asked me to fly to Jamaica to look for Lisa - even though Bonner-Hunter was still a relatively small company back then and I was just turning thirty. My people worked on the case for ten months before Tom Chelgrin gave up. We used eight damned good men full time and hired as many Jamaicans to do a lot of footwork. It was an expensive deal for the senator, but he didn't care. Still
it wouldn't have mattered if we'd had ten thousand men on the case. It was a perfect crime. It's one of only two major investigations that we've failed to wrap up successfully since I took over the business.'
The taxi swung around another corner. The Moonglow Lounge stood half a block ahead.
Joanna finally spoke again, although she still wouldn't look at him. 'But why do you think I'm Lisa Chelgrin?'
'Lots of reasons. For one thing, you're the same age she'd be if she were still alive. More important, you're a dead ringer for her, just twelve years older.'
Frowning, she looked at him at last. 'Do you have a photograph of her?'
'Not on me. But I'll get one.'
The taxi slowed, pulled to the curb, and stopped in front of the Moonglow Lounge. The driver switched off the meter, opened the door, and got out.
'When you have a photo,' Joanna said, 'I'd like to see it.' She shook hands with him as if they'd experienced nothing more together than a pleasant business lunch. 'Thanks for lunch. Sorry I spoiled the sightseeing.'
Alex realized that she was dismissing him. 'Can't we have a drink and-'
'I don't feel well,' she said.
The cabdriver opened the door, and she started to get out.
Alex held on to her hand, forcing her to look at him again. 'Joanna, we have a lot to talk about. We-'
'Maybe later.'
'Aren't you still curious, for God's sake?'
'Not nearly as curious as I am ill. Queasy stomach, headache. It must be something I ate. Or maybe all the excitement.'
'Do you want a doctor?'
'I just need to lie down a while.'
'When can we talk?' He sensed a widening gulf between them that had not existed a few minutes ago. 'Tonight? Between shows?'
'Yes. We can chat then.'
'Promise?'
'Really, Alex, the poor driver will catch pneumonia if he stands there holding the door for me any longer. It's gotten fifteen degrees colder since lunch.'
Reluctantly he let go of her.
As she got out of the
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