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With Open Eyes
  • Текст добавлен: 17 сентября 2016, 22:20

Текст книги "With Open Eyes"


Автор книги: Iris Johansen



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“There was blood…Blood everywhere. But now the police are trying to cover it up.”

Kendra Michaels stared at Janet Sanders in the parking lot outside her office. The woman was carrying on like a paranoid lunatic, but Kendra knew better. She had known Janet too long.

“Slow down, Janet. Where was the blood?”

Janet took a deep breath. “My fiancé’s house. I saw it three nights ago. I went over there and saw it. He was gone, but there was blood all over his kitchen floor and walls!” She shuddered. “It scared me, Kendra.”

“Understandable.” Kendra was attempting to process the disturbing information Janet was hurling at her. She hadn’t even known her old friend had a fiancé. She certainly hadn’t expected to see Janet waiting for her outside the medical office building where Kendra based her music therapy practice. She had just seen her last client of the day and was heading to her car when Janet suddenly approached her.

Kendra tried to remember how long it had been since she had seen Janet. A year? Maybe two?

Janet Sanders had been her teacher at the Woodland Institute for the Vision Impaired more than a decade before, during Kendra’s teenage years. A lifetime ago, Kendra thought, when she was still blind and living in the darkness. Janet had helped her learn how to live in that world.

No, not just to live there; Janet had shown her how to flourish as a sightless person, to feel beautiful and worthy at an age when she might have felt strange and awkward. Then, just a few years later, when Kendra gained her sight via a revolutionary stem cell procedure, Janet had been one of her first visitors, doing everything in her power to help her adjust to an exciting yet bewildering new world.

Now, however, Janet was anything but the calm and reassuring presence Kendra had always known her to be. Her clothes were disheveled, and her mop of blond hair was falling over her eyes. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her oversized sweater. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.

“Calm down.” Kendra motioned toward a large bench just a few feet down the sidewalk. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

“I don’t need to sit down, Kendra, I just—”

“You do need to sit down. You’re starting to hyperventilate.” Kendra took Janet by the arm, guided her to the bench, and sat with her. “I need you to slow down. Tell me exactly what happened.”

Janet nodded and took a moment to catch her breath. “Okay. I’ve been dating this guy for a year. His name is Dale Baylor, and we met in the Sierra Club.” She moistened her lips. “He’s pretty special, Kendra. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone. You know my job was my whole life.”

“And there were a lot of us who were grateful you felt that way. You’re a great teacher, Janet.”

“I love my students. I love my job. It makes me feel worthwhile. But Dale…He made me feel beautiful. He told me that inside and out I was wonderful. I know I’m not pretty, but when he tells me I am I believe him.”

“You should believe him. You are wonderful, Janet.”

“That’s not important.” She gestured impatiently. “What’s happened to Dale is the only thing that matters right now. I spend pretty much every weekend at his place. But when I went over last Friday night, the door had been busted open…. And there was blood.” Tears welled in Janet’s eyes. “So much blood, Kendra.”

“Where?” Kendra asked.

“Everywhere, like I said. All over the kitchen floor, some splattered on the walls and even the cabinets. And Dale was gone. But his wallet, keys, and cell phone were on the counter.”

“What about his car?”

“Still in the driveway. I can’t tell you how scared I was. I got out of there and called the police. They met me back there and took my statement. The forensics team went over the place, and they took pictures and video. There was a detective in charge, his name was Sutker, and he seemed like a nice guy. He said he would be in touch.”

“Has he called you?”

“Hell, no. I called them about a hundred times over the weekend. No one was ever available to take my call, so I left messages. No one called me back.”

“That would not be unheard of, especially on a weekend and if the police hadn’t made any progress.”

“Well, I went back to Dale’s house Sunday—last night—to get a few things of mine. I brought some friends with me. My key didn’t work on the front door. The lock had been replaced and the broken door frame had been repaired and painted. So I tried my key on the back door, and it opened. All of Dale’s things were gone, and so were mine.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “It was as if he’d never lived there. And there was no trace of the blood.”

“It had been cleaned?”

“More like cleaned out. No furniture, no car, no food in the refrigerator. I mean, it was empty. My friends probably thought I had made the whole thing up. If they hadn’t already met Dale, they might have thought I’d made him up.”

“Maybe a family member of his cleared it.”

“He had no family. Anyway, I staked out the police station this morning and waited for Detective Sutker. While I waited, I called him a few times. They kept saying he was busy and that he would call me back. Same old runaround. Finally I spotted him, and I blocked his car with mine.”

“Not a good idea, Janet.”

“Yeah, for a second I thought he was going to shoot me. But I wasn’t going to let him get away without answering a few questions.”

“And did he?”

“He practically called me a liar.”

“What?”

“He said I was being hysterical and that I was exaggerating. That there was no sign of a break-in, and that what little blood may have been on the scene could have been from a carving accident or maybe from a tin-can lid. He said there was nothing unusual about the scene.”

“What? He said that with a straight face?”

“Absolutely. He told me that I just needed to get on with my life and get used to the fact that Dale had left me. He said it wasn’t unusual for women to manufacture stories like this when faced with romantic rejection. He said it makes it easier for women to deal with.”

Kendra bit her lip. “Hmm. Charming guy.”

“That’s why I came here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Kendra leaned closer to her friend. “You know I’m always happy to see you, Janet, but what made you come to me?”

“I need help. Dale needs help.” Janet glanced around and lowered her voice. “And I’ve heard things about you.”

“What things?” Kendra asked warily.

“That you sometimes help the police.”

She had been afraid this was where Janet was heading. It was a side of her life she didn’t often discuss, even with her friends and family. “And where did you hear this?”

“From Lynne, our school administrator. I think she speaks to your mother fairly often.”

Kendra nodded. Her mother. Of course.

“The teachers at the school still talk about you all the time, and not just because you can see now. You were amazing even when you were just fourteen years old. The first time I met you, you knew that I was wearing glasses, what kind of shoes I was wearing, what I had eaten for breakfast, and that I had spent the previous night with my boyfriend. Even when you were blind, you saw the world more clearly than anyone.”

Kendra shrugged. “I used what I had.”

“You used it like no one I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen thousands over the years. And you’re even more amazing now that you have your sight.”

“I don’t take anything I see for granted, that’s all. After all those years of seeing nothing, I just want to absorb every detail and know what things mean.”

Janet nodded. “And what details have you used to figure me out today, Kendra?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’ve known you too long. I could sit here and tell you what I’ve been doing, but you probably already knew in the first twenty seconds. Tell me.”

“Janet, I don’t see why I should waste your time—”

“I need to know I didn’t come here for nothing. Tell me.”

Kendra sighed. “You’re still volunteering at the ballet, but for some reason you’ve been focusing on the American Ballet Theatre instead of the San Diego Ballet Company, even though it meant driving all the way down to Costa Mesa every night when they were in town last week. And you did drive down there five nights in a row when they were performing Giselle, didn’t you?”

Janet stared at her for a long moment. “Okay, that’s amazing, even for you.”

“And even though you were upset and spent the morning staking out the police station, you didn’t come right here, did you? You still pulled it together enough to go to work and teach a swimming class this afternoon.”

“There was no one else qualified to fill in. The kids would have been disappointed.”

“Of course they would. I would have been when I was your student. And you’re still fond of those overpriced coffee drinks. You had one on your way over here.”

Janet brushed her lapel. “Don’t tell me I spilled some on myself.”

“Not a drop. But it’s possible you may have spilled some on the seat of your new Volkswagen Bug.” Kendra pointed to a yellow VW parked just a few feet away. “That one. Nice car. It suits you.”

Janet smiled for the first time since confronting Kendra. “There must be fifty cars in this lot. How did you know it was mine?”

“Modern-day VW’s have a unique fob that swings out the ignition key with the press of a button, kind of like a switchblade knife.”

“But you couldn’t see it. It’s been in my sweater pocket the whole time.”

“Along with your hand. You’ve opened and closed it a few times since we’ve been sitting here. Nervous habit? I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it. It’s a very distinctive sound. There’s only one Volkswagen in this entire lot, so that has to be yours.” Kendra pointed to the car. “I see five parking stubs on your dashboard with Segerstrom Center for the Arts clearly printed at the top of each. None show a great deal of sun fading, meaning that they were put there recently, no more than a week or so, and probably on consecutive days, since there is some variation, but not a lot, in the fading between the various tickets. I happen to know that ABT’s production of Giselle played there Tuesday through Saturday last week, so it wasn’t a great leap to figure that your volunteer work has recently been centered in Costa Mesa.”

“And the swimming class? My hair is dry.”

“It is. But I can still smell the chlorine. It’s kind of hard to miss even after you’ve shampooed. I have fond memories of that school’s over-chlorinated pool.”

“What about my iced coffee? Was that just a guess?”

“They’re all guesses. I work the odds based on my observations.” Kendra pointed back to the trash can next to the building entrance. “There’s a clear coffee drink cup in the trash over half full of ice with no trace of any melting, meaning that the last of the liquid had been slurped up just seconds earlier. I didn’t see anyone entering the building or leaving the parking lot, so I’m thinking it was yours.”

Janet nodded. “You never disappoint, Kendra. It doesn’t surprise me that the police come to you for help.”

“But I’m not a cop. I’ve helped the FBI on a few cases, but my work is in this building, helping people and doing academic research. I don’t want to be anything but a music therapist.”

“I know, and believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had any idea where else to go. If the police won’t help me, what else can I do?”

Kendra stared at Janet for a long moment. She resented the intrusion that her occasional investigative work made in her life, but this was different. Janet was a friend, and she was clearly distraught. And what’s more, Kendra owed her. When would she ever get another chance to repay Janet for all the wonderful things she had done for her?

“I’m really not sure what I can do for you, Janet.”

“Okay. Okay,” Janet said jerkily and jumped to her feet. “I knew it was a long shot when I came here. I’m sorry I bothered you with this, Kendra.”

Kendra took her arm. “But I’m willing to try. Of course I’ll help you any way I can.” Kendra stood up. “Normally I might like to see his house, but if it’s been cleaned out like you say, that might not do us much good.”

Janet breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re going to do it? So where do we start?”

Kendra thought for a moment. “Go back to your place and gather every piece of information you have on Dale. Every photo, every vacation video, and everything that belonged to him. I’d also like the name of every friend he has. Is he on any of the social networking sites?”

“No. He says he doesn’t believe in that stuff. And he says he doesn’t keep in touch with anyone from his past. He says he’d rather look forward than back.”

“Where did he work?”

“He ran a business out of his house. Computer support for local businesses.”

“Interesting. And he doesn’t believe in using computers to promote his business?”

“He said that his business only makes him aware how insecure our personal information is on the Internet.”

“Well, I’m not going to argue with that.”

“I’ll pull his stuff together. Do you want to meet tomorrow?”

“No. Tonight. The sooner I get started, the better chance I’ll have of helping you.” Kendra walked toward her car. “I’ll be at your place in an hour.”

An hour later Kendra stood in the kitchen of Janet’s modest Escondido home staring at a mound of photographs and personal mementos on the glass dinette table.

“Are you sure you only dated him for a year?” Kendra said. “There’s enough stuff here for twenty years of marriage.”

“You said you wanted everything. And I’m too sentimental to throw anything away. I still have the ticket stubs for every movie and concert we saw together.”

“I can see that.” Kendra picked up a stub. “Who’s the polka enthusiast?”

“Neither of us, but we both like beer.”

“Ah.”

Kendra held up a photograph and studied it. “Is this him?”

Janet looked. “Yes. It’s not a great shot, though. Here, let me find a better one.” Janet pulled several more photos from the pile, but in each one her fiancé’s face was turned away or partially obscured.

“He wasn’t crazy about having his picture taken, was he?” Kendra said.

Janet continued looking through the pile. “Not really. Almost every time I was about to snap a shot of him someplace, he asked to take my picture instead.” She finally pulled another photo out. “Here’s a good one. I guess I surprised him.”

Kendra took the photo from her and looked at the handsome fiftyish man seated at the back of a catamaran. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a warm, inviting smile. “Good-looking guy. Where was this?”

“Catalina. It was just a couple of months ago.”

“Do you have any video?”

“He gave me an iPhone for my birthday, and we shot some video on it at his house. It’s not of him, though. He was doing the shooting.”

“I’d like to see it. Is it still on your phone?”

“No, it’s on my computer now.” Janet flipped up the lid on her laptop, clicked open the file, and played a ninety-second video in which Janet spoke to her unseen fiancé as he demonstrated her new phone’s capabilities.

After the video ended, Kendra thought for a moment. “This was in his house?”

“Yes, his living room.”

“Where was he from?”

“He was born in Dallas. He lived there all his life until he moved here to San Diego just a couple years ago.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Show it again.”

Kendra watched the video three more times, trying to focus on the myriad details in Dale Baylor’s home. Was there anything there that could give her some insight?

She scanned the living room. A typical bachelor’s home, heavy on consumer electronics and light on decorative touches. Dale Baylor was left-handed, probably a nonsmoker, had expensive taste in wines, and was a fan of seventies rock and spy novels.

Kendra turned back to the pile on the table and picked up a small, framed art print of a woman seated on a Victorian armchair. “What’s this?”

“A gift from Dale. He said she reminded him of me.”

“I can see why.” Kendra angled it into the light. “Have you shown this to anyone else?”

“I don’t think so. I keep it in my bedroom. Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to take this with me, okay?”

“Sure, but why?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just wait for my call, Janet.” Kendra pulled on her jacket as she walked to the door and opened it. “It shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”

Kendra knocked on Janet’s door two and a half hours later.

When Janet answered, Kendra did not step inside. “I need you to come with me. Grab your sweater, it’s very cool out.”

“Why?”

“There’s no time to explain.”

Janet stared at her. “You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared. Just come with me. I’ll drive.”

Kendra led Janet to her car. They climbed in, backed out of the narrow driveway, and started down the dark street.

Janet turned toward her. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“I took that picture to the FBI.”

“What?”

“They owe me a few favors, and I know they want to keep me happy. I saw your fiancé’s thumbprint on the upper left corner of the glass.”

“Seriously? How did you even know it was his?”

“He has a large callus at his thumb’s knuckle line. Maybe from holding ropes while boating. I saw it in several of the pictures you showed me. Even when I couldn’t see his face, I could still see that.”

Janet shook her head. “I—I’m speechless. No. I’m not. The FBI. That’s big stuff. I’m not sure I like the idea you’d do this without even asking me.”

“You wanted my help, Janet. And I found out something very—” Kendra’s eyes flicked to her rearview mirror. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

“Get down in your seat. We’re being followed.”

Janet instinctively whirled around to look.

Kendra pushed her down by her shoulder. “Get down.”

She pushed the speakerphone button on her steering wheel, and a man immediately answered. “Sutker.”

Kendra was aware of Janet stiffening at the name. “Sutker? What the—”

Kendra raised her hand to silence her. “Not now.” She spoke into the speakerphone. “It’s what I thought. He’s on our tail. I’m on Fifth about to turn north onto Quince Street.”

“Okay,” Sutker said. “We’re ready for you, Kendra.”

Kendra cut the connection.

Who’s on our tail?” Janet said.

“Someone has been watching your house. I couldn’t see him, but that Ford Explorer was the only car on the street with the windows fogged over. They were still fogged when I came back two hours later, so I knew someone was staking you out. Either that, or your street has become a prime make-out spot.”

Kendra turned right onto Quince Street without signaling. Behind them, the Explorer’s tires squealed as it took the unexpected turn.

“He’s getting closer,” Kendra said. “Just stay down.”

She gunned the engine just as the street behind them lit up with police flashers. Sirens wailed and more tires squealed as four unmarked cars surrounded the Explorer. Kendra drove another half a block before slowing to a stop.

“What in the hell is going on?” Janet asked.

“Shh.” Kendra cocked her head to hear the amplified voice blaring from one of the police cruisers.

“What are they saying?” Janet asked.

“I couldn’t make it out. If I had to guess, probably some variation of ‘step outside the vehicle with your hands up.’”

Janet threw open her car door. “What if it’s Dale?”

Kendra tried to grab her arm, but Janet had already jumped out of the car. “Janet, no!”

Kendra climbed out after her just in time to see a man in a dark shirt and trousers sliding out of the Explorer’s passenger-side door. Angling the door as he would a shield, he raised a handgun toward the police cars.

The street exploded with half a dozen guns firing at once. The muzzles flashed white in the darkness.

The man flew backwards and landed sprawled on the sidewalk.

Janet screamed and lunged forward.

Kendra held her back. “No, it’s not him, I promise.”

The police emerged from their cars and cautiously stepped toward the lifeless figure on the pavement. One man turned to another and shook his head. “Deader than hell.”

A thirtyish detective in a tan jacket left the other police and ran toward Kendra and Janet. “Are you all right?”

Janet gazed at him in surprise. “Detective Sutker?”

“Yes. You’re not hurt?”

“No, who was that man?”

“We’ll find out soon enough when we run the ID.” Sutker turned to Kendra. “Sorry for all this, Dr. Michaels. When you called, we had to make sure he was really tailing her.”

“I guess I would have had an easier time convincing you if he had pulled his gun on Janet,” she said sarcastically.

“You know that wasn’t going to happen. He was just waiting to see if she made contact.”

Janet looked from Kendra to Sutker. “Contact with whom?”

Sutker glanced away, obviously not wanting to answer the question.

Kendra took her arm. “With Dale. He thought you might know where Dale was.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Because Dale was in the Federal Witness Protection Program.”

“What?” Janet glanced at Sutker for confirmation, but his face was without expression. She turned back to Kendra. “Are you sure?”

Kendra nodded. “I had a pretty good idea back at your apartment. You know I’m good with dialects, and I was positive Dale was lying about being born and bred in Dallas. I’m guessing he was raised somewhere along the Georgia or South Carolina coast, with his accent flattened by a Midwestern influence from one or both of his parents.”

Sutker’s eyes widened. “How the hell did you—”

“That doesn’t matter now.” Janet appeared stunned. “You’re saying he didn’t tell me the truth?”

Kendra nodded. “He obviously lied to you about where he was from, he claims to have no family, and he has no contact with friends or anyone from his past. He is also unusually averse to having his face photographed. That suggests a man hiding from something, perhaps even the law, but the fact that the police would engage in some kind of cover-up and encourage you to stop asking questions led me to think in a different direction, maybe in terms of witness protection. So I had my friends at the FBI run the thumbprint.”

“Why?” Janet asked.

“I knew that if he was in Witness Protection the match request would be immediately flagged and an alert would go to the agency responsible for him. I hung around long enough for the FBI field office to get an urgent call from the U.S. Marshals Service, wondering what in the hell they were doing tracking their protected witness.”

“I’m sure your FBI buddies loved that,” Sutker said. “Having to explain why they were running a fingerprint for a nonagent?”

Kendra shrugged. “I have a history of annoying them.”

Janet leaned back against Kendra’s car. “I just can’t believe it. So Dale…He’s okay?”

Sutker nodded. “He’s fine. If it means anything, I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you earlier today. When you called us, we treated it like any other crime scene. But then we got a call from the Marshals Service, and they explained everything. Someone broke into your fiancé’s house and tried to kill him. Turns out he’s pretty handy with a kitchen knife and he killed his attacker. He called his handler and they pulled him out of there and removed the body. But you showed up before their team could clean the rest of the scene. Believe me, the only reason we behaved the way we did is for his protection.”

“His protection? What did he do?”

Kendra looked at Sutker. “We had an agreement, detective.”

“Your agreement was with the Marshals Service, not me.” He hesitated and then shrugged. “But I told them I would give you a ride. Least I could do.” He motioned toward his car. “Please come with me. It’s only a short trip.”

Short, indeed. Just three blocks away Sutker parked on a dark residential street.

“Why are we here?” Janet said.

As if in answer to her question, the rear door opened on a car parked across the street. A man climbed out and closed the door behind him.

Janet stiffened and then gasped as she recognized him. “Dale.”

She jumped out of the car and ran across the street toward him. He moved toward her, but they stopped short of each other in the middle of the deserted street.

Kendra and Sutker climbed out of his car and stood several feet away.

Tears welled in Janet’s eyes. “You didn’t trust me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dale shook his head. “Janet…It wasn’t that at all.” He moved closer to her. “God, I thought I would never see you again.”

“Answer me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to, Janet,” he said hoarsely. “But I was afraid. Afraid I’d lose you.”

She wiped tears from her cheeks. “That could never happen.”

“Not even if you found out that I had lied to you about who I am?”

Another man climbed out of the car that Dale had come from. He flashed his U.S. Marshals Service badge at them. “Henry Samuels, ma’am. Whatever he may have told you, he’s a good man. He did the right thing.”

“You don’t have to tell me he’s a good man.” Janet’s gaze never left Dale’s face. “What happened?”

Dale looked away. “I worked for a company in Savannah, and I found out some things about my employers that I wished I didn’t know. They were mixed up in a lot of bad, scary stuff from drugs to Mafia-controlled vice. I thought about just ignoring it, but I couldn’t. I ended up testifying against them. The next thing I knew there was a price on my head, so I entered witness protection. I moved here, and I was really hating life…until I met you. After that, I didn’t regret anything that had happened.”

“Then why were you just going to leave without telling me?”

“It was for your own good, Janet. After that man tried to kill me the other night, I knew that I couldn’t stay. I had to leave you. I had to start all over.” He added simply, “It broke my heart.”

“Did it?” Janet thought for a long moment. “Then take me with you.”

“What?”

“I mean it. Take me with you. I’ll start over with you.” She met his gaze. “You said you loved me, that you wanted to spend your life with me. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? I’d love to have you with me. But I could never ask you to—”

“You didn’t ask. I volunteered.”

“But it’s your entire life. It would mean leaving behind everybody and everything you’ve ever known.”

“I know, Dale. But I’ll have you.” She smiled. “And I’m quite capable of creating a dandy new life for myself wherever we go. I won’t depend on you for anything but what we have together. Deal?”

“Deal. I’m not sure it’s a great bargain for you.” He drew her into his arms. “But I’m going to be selfish and take it anyway.” He kissed her. “I want you to know, if you change your mind, I’ll let you go.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re not going to get rid of me. I’ve made up my mind and Kendra will tell you that I can be very determined when I—But you don’t know Kendra.” Janet pulled away and gestured toward Kendra. “Dale, this is my friend Kendra Michaels.” She added huskily, “My very, very good friend.”

“I’ve already heard about her.” Dale shook Kendra’s hand. “I understand you threatened to go to the media and scream bloody murder unless the Marshals Service arranged this meeting.”

Kendra smiled. “You understand correctly.”

Marshal Samuels scowled at Kendra. “And the U.S. Marshals Service doesn’t appreciate being blackmailed, Dr. Michaels.”

“Too bad,” Janet said. “I sure appreciate it. When do we leave?”

“Immediately,” the marshal said. “The sooner we get you both out of town, the better. Don’t you want to think about it? Are you sure you want to do this, ma’am?”

Janet looked at Dale. “I’m sure.”

“Okay. It’s your decision.” He shrugged. “After tonight, Janet Sanders won’t exist.”

Even in the darkness, Kendra could see color drain from Janet’s face.

“Then I guess this is goodbye.” Janet forced a smile as she turned toward Kendra. “You know I can’t thank you enough.”

“Are you scared?”

“Maybe a little. It’s kind of a shock to realize that all my past and experiences don’t exist.”

Kendra hugged her. “Janet Sanders will always exist for me. And for the thousands of other kids you helped over the years. None of us will ever forget you. You know that, right?”

Janet smile became warm with feeling. “I do now. Thank you, Kendra.”

Dale put his arm around Janet and walked with her back to the marshal’s car. The marshal climbed behind the wheel and started the engine while they settled into the back seat.

As they pulled away, Kendra waved, but Janet’s attention was focused solely on the man beside her.

As it should be, Kendra thought. She was looking forward not back. But Kendra wasn’t at that point yet. She had too many treasured memories of her years with Janet. It would take time to let her go.

She lifted her hand in a final farewell that was more for her own sake than for her friend.

Then she watched as their car moved down the long street, until it became one with the lights of the city.


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