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“What are you doing for dinner tonight?”My palms sweat and my heart pumps erratically. “I was just going to heat up some Chinese from yesterday.”“Unacceptable. A new Italian restaurant opened up five blocks from here. My buddy at work told me I have to try it.” He runs a hand through his hair which already looks shaggy, in spite of the haircut I gave him. His blue eyes glitter when he gives me a puppy dog look. “Please don’t make me go alone.”I want to go with him desperately. I want to be a normal girl who doesn’t have to weigh all the ramifications of saying yes. Unfortunately the scars all across my body, and the scars that burn in my memory, remind me I’m not.“I don’t know ... I have a few things I have to—”“Come on. If it sucks, I won’t have anyone to complain with!” His smile is contagious, damn it. My lips tug up reluctantly. “Come with me. You won’t regret it, Virginia.”A few wines later, I’m relaxed. I know this because my tongue feels swollen and my body feels creamy and. Early in the previous century the court had been the residence of wealthy merchants. Now the grand old homes, with their carriage houses, had been converted into apartments for college students and working class people on their way up, or down. McKay went up a concrete drive to a side entrance and up a flight of wide stairs to the second floor. Apt. 3-B was to the left at the end of a high-ceilinged hall. He shook beads of rain from his raincoat and knocked firmly. After a pause he heard someone moving about. “Just a moment,” a woman’s voice called out. There was the fumbling of a lock, and the door opened on a tousled blonde with an interesting face and a hand to her mouth as she tried to stifle a yawn. She wore a blue terry cloth robe. Her feet were bare. “Yes?” she said, softly, raising the hand farther up to brush back a lock of hair from her eye to stare up at him. “I’m Inspector McKay. I’m here about the missing person report you filed several weeks ago.” He took his badge out.
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