That didn’t stop him from trying, though he was rapidly reaching his wit’s end. Not even the lure of tickets to a Celtics game had improved Sammy’s mood, which seemed surlier than ever. He’d refused the invitation. As a result, Dana had begged off, too. Jason had gone to the game with his father, hoping that the night out would lead to confidences that would help him understand what was going on with his parents.
To his frustration, he’d struck out on that as well. The only thing his father seemed remotely inclined to discuss was the basketball game, and even then he’d kept his comments terse. Jason was more convinced than ever that things weren’t right between his parents. On one level he realized he was no more ready to deal with that aloud than his father was.
It was after midnight when Jason finally got home, too late to call Dana. After the tense standoff with his father and the close Celtics’ victory, he was too wired to sleep. Disgruntled as well by his lack of progress with Dana, he tried to read over the marketing and advertising plan he’d been finalizing in preparation for Dana’s first day on the job.
No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t seem to concentrate. For some reason he felt this odd sense that Dana needed him, that she was in trouble. He tried valiantly to ignore it, but time and again he glanced at the phone, debating with himself. He’d finally convinced himself to call and was already reaching for the phone, when it rang.
“Yes, hello,” he said, instantly convinced that his instincts had been accurate. No one ever called him this late unless there was a problem.
“Jason,” Dana said in a voice that sounded sandpaper husky from crying.
His heart slammed against his ribs. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sammy. I know I shouldn’t call you after the way he’s acted, after the way I’ve acted, but I didn’t know what else to do. There isn’t anyone else who could help.”
“What’s he done?” To his regret, his antagonistic tone sounded as if he were anticipating the worst.
“He hasn’t done anything,” she said, clearly bristling. “He’s just gone. I came home earlier and he was out. I didn’t think much about it until a couple of hours ago. He knows he has an eleven-o’clock curfew on weekends unless we discuss a later one. He always calls if he’s going to be late,” she said staunchly, as if to defend him from an attack she knew Jason was likely to make.
“I’ll be right there,” Jason said, already reaching for his clothes.
“Thank you.”
Dana sounded so tired, so vulnerable. Jason felt something tear lose inside his chest as he considered the state of panic she must be in. This time he was going to shake Sammy until his teeth rattled. Dana didn’t deserve this kind of treatment from a kid she’d spent years protecting and nurturing, a boy whose needs she’d always put above her own. If Jason had anything to say about it, Dana was through making sacrifices that went unappreciated.
He reached her apartment in record time and raced inside. At the sound of his footsteps pounding up the stairs, she had the door open before he reached the top. Her expression wavered between relief and disappointment when she saw it was him. Jason could understand the ambivalence. Obviously she’d been praying it was Sammy. Jason’s help came in at a distant second best.
Jason took one look at the tears tracking down her cheeks and swept her into his arms. For some reason she felt almost fragile, as if fear alone had robbed her of her usual strength. There was no hint of the famed Dana Roberts spunk.
“Any news?” he asked gently.
He felt the subtle shake of her head, the sigh that shuddered through her.
“Let’s go inside and think this through.”
“I want to go look for him,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Running around the streets at this hour won’t accomplish anything unless we have a plan. Come on. Make some coffee and tell me every single place you think he might be.”
In the kitchen she scooped up the coffee, then spilled it from a spoon that shook uncontrollably. Jason retrieved the spoon, urged her into a chair, then wiped up the coffee and started over. When the pot was on the stove, he pulled a chair close to her and enfolded her trembling, icy hands in his.
Looking downright miserable, Dana met his gaze and said, “He’s never done anything like this before—never. What if he’s hurt?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll call the hospitals and the police. We’ll find him.”
She looked thunderstruck. “The police?”
“To see about reported accidents.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Wouldn’t they have called me, though? He has ID with my name and number for emergencies.”
Jason could think of several reasons, all of them bad, that no one had called Dana. He evaded. “Not necessarily.”
She started to get up. “Shouldn’t we be doing that now?”
“As soon as you drink a little coffee. Have you eaten anything tonight?”
“A sandwich.” At his skeptical glance, she added, “Honest. I really didn’t start worrying until eleven when he was due in.”
“Okay, then. Drink the coffee and let me make a few calls. Where’s the phone book?”
“In the living room by the phone.”
“You stay here and try to relax. I’ll be right back.”
Naturally she didn’t stay put. Though Jason worried that listening to question after question would only add to her stress, she weathered the next hour fairly well. In fact, she seemed to grow calmer, more determined. That strength in a crisis was an admirable trait, but Jason almost wished she would cry or scream—anything to wipe away that increasingly bleak, stoic expression.
The police had no record of Sammy either being picked up or in an accident. After the last futile call to a hospital, Jason sighed. “No luck.”
Dana’s expression did brighten slightly then. “That’s good, though, isn’t it? It
