In my mind’s eye I can see the wheels turning in my friend’s mind. “You know what I would do if I were you?” she says. “Hire a private detective.”
Gabby’s an out-of-the-box thinker—it’s what makes her jewelry designs unique and riveting—so I’m not surprised she’s going there. But her suggestion feels like a move I’m not ready to make yet.
“Maybe.”
“Why maybe?”
“It would be an awfully big step. Besides, I’m hoping my therapist can help me regain my memory, and then I won’t need a detective on the case... but anyway, I should let you go.”
“Okay, but promise you’ll call me day or night if you needanything. And why don’t I plan to drop by right after I get back on Monday? My flight lands around four.”
“You’ll be exhausted.”
“Don’t worry about it. I need to be with you.”
As soon as we hang up, I check my email to see if Dr. Erling has responded, but there’s no word from her. Then I google “private detective agencies NYC,” simply to see what surfaces. The number of possibilities seems overwhelmingand after perusing the first dozen or so, I shut my laptop with a sigh.
The house phone rings again, startling me. I assume it’s a robocall, but to my shock, I find myself staring at the main number for Greenbacks.Damien? When I answer, however, a woman’s voice asks for Ally Linden.
“This is she.”
“I’m Damien Howe’s assistant. I have your trench coat—you left it in the conference room—and I wanted to arrange to send it over to you. We’re lucky we still had an old home number for you.”
I’m grateful to hear it. The coat wasn’t pricey, but I liked it. Besides, I can take comfort in the fact that unlike my memory, it hasn’t been sucked into a black hole and lost forever. Maybe today won’t be as much of a hot mess as yesterday.
After I provide the address, she tells me the messenger should be there in a few hours. Something about her tone and uptalk suggests she’s young, and I wonder if she’s the woman I’d seen in the cubicle outside Damien’s office yesterday. Is he sitting in his office with the door open, eavesdropping on the call?
“Oh, and Damien wanted me to ask how you were feeling,” she adds. “He called the hospital, but they weren’t allowed to give out any information.”
I cringe as I flash back on the face-plant I did in his office and being hauled out on a stretcher, my hair slicked back with rainwater. I must have looked like a marooned seal.
“Please tell him I’m doing fine today, and that I appreciate his concern.”
Of course, I think, after we’ve signed off,he didn’t call to inquire himself. Does the idea of us speaking to each other unsettle him as much as it does me?
When I open my laptop again, I see to my relief that Dr. Erling’s responded, asking if I’m free to talk and giving me her number. I call her New York office immediately.
“Ally, please tell me what’s happened.” The sound of her deep, steady voice provides instant comfort.
“Everything’s such a mess. I spent most of yesterday in a psych ward.”
“Yes, I spoke to Dr. Agarwal only a few moments ago,” she says.
I quickly recap from my perspective, offering details she wouldn’t have heard from Agarwal, like how long I was actually gone.
“I know I never made the appointment Wednesday,” I add. “We didn’t speak at all, did we?”
“We did, actually—but Tuesday morning. I called you around nine and asked if there was any chance you could switch this week’s appointment to my Larchmont office, and you said you could. But you never showed up the next day.”
“Did I sound okay when we talked?”
“Yes, but you mentioned you were upset about something to do with Hugh and eager to see me.”
It’s not much, but I have a couple more clues now: I had a conversation with Erling, which I can add to my timeline, and the fight with Hugh was clearly on my mind.
“I know how jammed your schedule is, but is there any way you can see me today?”
“Yes, of course. This is important. I had a cancellation at two thirty. Can you make that?”
