Liddy was the shy one, hiding behind herbooks and her paintings. Still, the wine was doing its job, lifting her spiritsanother notch, and another. She was here, in Soho! Okay, not officially moved inyet, but feeling better than she’d felt after hours alone up there in the loft’semptiness. In the mirror behind the bar she saw herself, and was surprised. Wellgosh, she was even looking prettier. The sallow look was gone and her cheeks werepink, her dark eyes more alert and larger-seeming. Oh, she was feeling better,yessir. She felt ready to be friendly; nodded and said something feeling to thewoman next to her complaining about her ex. She had a sudden, crazy desire toraise her glass to herself in the mirror and think, wow, the bad time’s over andwe’re here, a new beginning, well done…
Abruptly the news overhead switched from afire in midtown to the name Sasha Perry, and Liddy tensed.
A line of police officers stood behind aman in plain clothes at the microphone. Lieutenant something Mackey, grim-facedand announcing that the investigation into the disappearance of coed SashaPerry was now officially closed, based on the assumption that she was arunaway. There had been hundreds of tips and supposed sightings with none ofthem panning out, he said, seeming to speak solemnly to the microphone.
“However, we still hear occasional reports,someone just remembering something they’d previously forgotten, and I’d like toemphasize” – he looked up; said it strongly – “that one of our detectives iscontinuing to devote attention to this case. Detective Blasco?” He looked tothe side; stepped away to make room at the mike.
She was tall, slender in a white blouse anddark blazer with dark blond hair in a ponytail, shadowed circles under her eyes.Soulful, probing eyes that scrutinized the crowd before her as if looking for badguys.
She re-introduced herself. “Call me Kerri,”she said, squinting into late day sunlight. “As Lieutenant Mackey said, I’mkeeping at this. The tips and possible sightings still come – in fact, since weannounced this morning that the case was closing, they’ve started up again. Maybethat’s what police announcements do. Or maybe there’s someone out there justremembering, just getting back to town… anything. Do we have that picture, Ray?”
She looked toward what must have been amonitor as the shot switched to a photo of Sasha Perry in her graduationpicture, smiling and happy with her blond hair cut to medium-length. The photostayed for long seconds as the detective’s voice continued, then switched backto those soulful, determined eyes staring straight into the camera. “If youfeel you might know something, nothing’s too small. My name again is DetectiveKerri Blasco, and I’m at Midtown North Precinct, 306 West 54thStreet. Thank you.”
Voices commented behind and around Liddy,and her bad feeling roared back.
Sasha Perry…the weeping girl’s face on the windowglass looked like her; ditto the girl Liddy had seen and sketched walking pastthem on Prince Street. Or thought she’d seen? Crazy, irrational nonsense!She’d fought it for the whole long hours working and measuring in the loft and shefought it now; heard Beth saying, You’re sensitive, must have seen it at thehospital…it was another trauma…
Some compulsion made her reach to her bag,pull out her sketchbook, look at the drawing. There she was, Sasha Perry oralmost her…The hair longer, the lips fuller and more serious, pursed in thought– but wait, that’s because she’d passed them just walking, not smiling for hergraduation picture.
“My God, that’s her!” the woman next to herexclaimed, gaping at the sketch. “Those eyes, you’ve caught her exactly!” She’dhad a few; her attention flew from the complaints she’d been making about men tothe drawing. She pulled back on her stool and peered wide-eyed at Liddy. “Didyou know her?”
An uneasy smile. “No, just saw her picture.”Actually she might have passed us on the street. “I sketch people’sfaces a lot.”
“Coulda fooled me.” The woman hunched closerto study the sketch. “I took studio art. The hardest thing is showing what someonefeels and you’ve done it! Really captured her – hey Meg, look at this!”
Meg pushed in to see and then two otherwomen and a man, all gibbering about what a perfect likeness. “Even have herhair longer,” one of them piped. “Like it would have been after her graduationpicture. You sure you haven’t seen her?”
Liddy assured them she hadn’t, gathered upher things, and pushed out. Her heart thudded.
She got a cab at the corner of West Broadway.“Eighty-third and West End,” she told the driver and leaned back, letting out along, pent-up breath. The wine had worked for maybe five minutes and then - forgetit. Happy Hour, what a misnomer. She felt so alone, and scared, and suddenlyrealized she didn’t want to go home. Not right away. Paul, why do you have tobe so obsessed with your work? Would it kill you to come home a little earlier?Would it kill Carl? Admit it, Paul, Carl calls the shots…he always has…
Nothing’s too small, that detective said. Kerri,her name was? She seemed nice, probably wouldn’t laugh at yet another crackpot story.They’ve gotten hundreds of tips and sightings, Liddy thought; I’d just be anotherone, and maybe I’ll feel better getting this off my chest.
It was after seven. Would Detective Kerristill be there? That police conference looked taped in late afternoon.
“Ah, there’s been a change?” Liddy leanedforward to the driver. “Make that 306 West 54th Street?”
The cab swerved, and she frowned. Funny,she thought, how I remembered that address. Must have planned this withoutrealizing…
12
Kerri Blasco stood fromher desk and stretched her arms. Her shoulders and neck felt stiff, her wholebody half asleep. The crib upstairs beckoned, but she was wired from too muchcoffee.
“You gonna go home? See if it’s still there?”
Buck Dillon, last one leaving from the dayshift, stopped by her
