'I know.'
'Have you considered the fact that maybe she doesn't want to be found?' 'I have,' I said. 'And?' 'And tough,' I said. 'We don't always get what we want. So find her for me, Sosh. Please.'
I hung up the phone. I looked at my wife’s stone again.
'We miss you,' I said out loud to my dead wife. 'Cara and I. We miss you very, very much.'
Then I stood up and walked back to my car.
Chapter 16
Raya Singh was waiting for me in the restaurant parking lot. She had turned in the aqua waitress uniform for jeans and a dark blue blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The effect was no less dazzling. I shook my head. I had just visited my wife’s grave. Now I was inappropriately admiring the beauty of a young woman.
It was an interesting world.
She slipped into the passenger seat. She smelled great.
'Where to?' I asked.
'Do you know where Route 17 is?'
'Yes.'
'Take it north.'
I pulled out of the lot. 'Do you want to start telling me the truth?' I asked. 'I have never lied to you,' she said. 'I decided not to tell you certain things.' 'Are you still claiming you just met Santiago on the street?'
“I am.”
I didn't believe her.
'Have you ever heard him mention the name Perez?'
She did not reply.
I pressed. 'Gil Perez?'
'The exit for 17 is on the right.'
'I know where the exit is, Raya.'
I glanced at her in perfect profile. She stared out the window, looking achingly beautiful.
'Tell me about hearing him say my name,' I said.
'I told you already.'
'Tell me again.'
She took a deep, silent breath. Her eyes closed for a moment.
'Manolo said you lied.'
'Lied about what?'
'Lied about something involving' – she hesitated-'involving woods or a forest or something like that.'
I felt my heart lurch across my chest. 'He said that? About woods or a forest?'
'Yes.'
'What were his exact words?'
'I don't remember.'
“Try.”
'Ј Paul Copeland lied about what happened in those woods.'' Then she tilted her head. 'Oh, wait.' I did. Then she said something that almost made me turn off the road.
She said, 'Lucy.'
'What?'
'That was the other name. Hesaid, 'Paul Copeland lied about what happened in those woods. So did Lucy.''
Now it was my turn to be struck silent.
'Paul,' Raya said, 'who is this Lucy?'
We took the rest of the ride in silence.
I was lost in thoughts of Lucy. I tried to remember the feel of her flaxen hair, the wondrous smell of it. But I couldn't. That was the thing. The memories seemed so clouded. I couldn't remember what was real and what my imagination had conjured up. I just remembered the wonder. I remembered the lust. We were both new, both clumsy, both in experienced, but it was like something in a Bob Sager song or maybe Meat Loaf's 'Bat Out of Hell.' God, that lust. How had it started? And when did that lust seemingly segue into something approaching love?
Summer romances come to an end. That was part of the deal. They are built like certain plants or insects, not able to survive more than one season. I thought Luce and I would be different. We were, I guess, but not in the way that I thought. I truly believed that we would never let each other go.
The young are so dumb.
The AmeriSuites efficiency unit was in Ramsey, New Jersey. Raya had a key. She opened the door to a room on the third floor. I would de scribe the decor to you except that the only word to describe it would be nondescript. The furnishing had all the personality of, well, an efficiency unit on a road called Route 17 in northern New Jersey.
When we stepped into the room, Raya let out a little gasp. 'What?' I said. Her eyes took in the whole room. 'There were tons of papers on that table,' she said. 'Files, magazines, pens, pencils.'
'It's empty now.'
Raya opened a drawer. 'His clothes are gone.'
We did a pretty thorough search. Everything was gone-there were no papers, no files, no magazine articles, no toothbrush, no personal items, nothing. Raya sat on the couch. 'Someone came back and cleared this place out.'
'When were you here last?'
'Three days ago.'
I started for the door. 'Come on.'
'Where are you going?'
'I'm going to talk to someone at the front desk.'
But there was a kid working there. He gave us pretty much nothing. The occupant had signed in as Manolo Santiago. He had paid in cash, leaving a cash deposit. The room was paid for until the end of the month. And no, the kid didn't remember what Mr. Santiago looked like or anything about him. That was one of the problems with these kinds of units. You don't have to go in through the lobby. It was easy to be anonymous.
Raya and I headed back to Santiago's room.
'You said there were papers?'
'Yes.'
'What did they say?'
'I didn't pry.'
'Raya,' I said.
'What?'
'I have to be honest here. I'm not fully buying the ignorant act.'
She just looked at me with those damn eyes.
'What?'
'You want me to trust you.'
'Yes.'
'Why should I?'
I thought about that.
'You lied to me when we met,' she said.
'About what?'
'You said you were just investigating his murder. Like a regular detective or something. But that wasn't true, was it?'
I said nothing.
'Manolo,' she went on. 'He didn't trust you. I read those articles. I know something happened to all of you in those woods twenty years ago. He thought you lied about it.'
I still said nothing. 'And now you expect me to tell you everything. Would you? If you were in my position, would you tell everything you knew?' I took a second, gathered my thoughts. She had a point. 'So you saw those articles?'
'Yes.'
'Then you know that I was at that camp that summer.'
'I do.'
'And you know that my sister disappeared that night too.'
