Chapter 20

As soon as Isobel got to the office the next morning, she checked her email drafts folder. Sure enough, the note she'd started to Jack was still sitting there. She opened it, revised it to reflect their conversation from the night before, and hit send before she could get distracted and forget again. Then she sat back, glowered at the screen, and reminded herself that she was displeased with almost every single person in her life.

How could Percival even be friends with Lily? She was so pushy and needy and in your face. When Isobel had filled Delphi in about the night they'd first met, Delphi had made the intolerable suggestion that the reason Isobel found Lily so irritating was that they shared some of the same qualities. And Hugh...Hugh should have been annoyed with her for ignoring him and interrogating Jack on their break. But as soon as she'd complimented Hugh on his playing, he became just as lovey-dovey as ever, which, in her black mood, she'd found cloying.

She took a deep breath and tried to relax. There was no getting around it: if her current discomfort with others had a common thread, she was it. She was being unreasonable, she was the problem, and she needed to get over herself. Strangely, this made her suddenly miss James, who could always be depended on for a bracing dose of reality. But she knew if James were around, she'd be just as peeved at him, if not more so, precisely because he never hesitated to call attention to her failings.

The other thing bothering her, she realized with a flash of insight, was that she hadn't been to an audition since that disastrous City of Angels call. If it was true that you were only as good as your last performance, then she was dreadful. If she were focusing on her career like she should be, these silly little personal things wouldn't be gnawing at her. That was what she needed: a chance to redeem herself from that awful audition and remind herself what was important. Maybe she'd be less impatient with everyone else if she were feeling better about herself.

She pulled up a list of casting notices on the computer and scanned the possibilities. Several auditions looked promising, including one for a musical based on the life of John Philip Sousa that was scheduling appointments rather than holding an open call. She thought back to Hugh's promise that he would accompany any audition she could schedule in advance, and she forwarded her materials to the casting director with a friendly (but not too friendly) note.

When she finally came up for air after exhausting every ad for non-union musicals, plays, and even student films, she realized it was almost eleven and there was still no sign of Sarah. She opened the link to Sarah's calendar on her computer to see whether she was in court, but there was nothing listed. She did have a phone call scheduled for two o'clock with Candy Harrison, presumably to discuss the will. Isobel rose, stretched her legs, and wandered into the kitchen for some ice water. She chatted for a bit with one of the other assistants, but when she returned, Sarah still had not appeared. Isobel set down her water and dialed Sarah's cell phone, which went to voice mail after four rings.

"Hey, it's Isobel. Just wondering where you are. You have a call with Candy at two today, in case you forgot. Okay, just checking in."

She frowned at the receiver. Probably Sarah had some last-minute appointment and had forgotten to note it on her calendar. But as one o'clock approached, Isobel began to feel distinctly uneasy. Shortly before two, Isobel tried Sarah's cell phone again. Still no answer.

"It's Isobel again. Just reminding you about your two o'clock call and wondering whether you're coming in or handling remotely. Okay, you know where I am. Call me." She left her cubicle, pausing outside the office of a lawyer named David, who occasionally covered for Sarah and vice versa. She rapped lightly on the door.

"Come in."

"Oh, hi. I'm Isobel. I work with Sarah," she said.

"Yes, of course. What can I do for you?"

Isobel cleared her throat. "I'm probably being a nervous Nellie, but Sarah hasn't been in all day, and there's nothing on her calendar except a call that's coming up in a few minutes. I haven't been able to raise her on her cell, and it's not like her to not check in."

David's brow furrowed. "No, it isn't."

"Did she mention anything to you about where she was going today?"

"She didn't. I agree with you. It is a little strange."

"That's what I thought," said Isobel, feeling simultaneously relieved to have her paranoia validated and afraid that something was seriously amiss.

"If you do hear from her, could you let me know?" she asked.

"Of course. And will you do the same?"

On the way back to her desk, she heard Sarah's line ringing. She dashed back and snatched it up, hoping it was Sarah.

"Sarah Hollister's office. This is Isobel."

"It's Candy Harrison for Sarah. Is she there, please?"

Isobel glanced at her computer clock. Candy was two minutes early.

"Oh! I'm sorry, she's er...tied up in court and not back yet."

Candy huffed on the other end of the line. "We have a call scheduled for two."

"It's not quite two yet," Isobel said.

"Who is this?"

Candy on the phone was much more businesslike than carefree Candy from The Hostelry.

"This is Isobel, Sarah's assistant." A sudden demon possessed her, and before she could stop herself, she added, "Sarah wanted me to ask if you could stop by the office around four."

"Why can't I just call her at four?" Candy bristled.

"She has something to show you," Isobel punted. "Are you available? I can text her and let her know."

"Fine," Candy said tautly. "I'll be there."

Isobel's hands were sweating so much, the receiver practically slid back into the cradle.

"Do you have a plan?" she whispered to herself. "I hope you have a plan."

She clenched her fists and brought them to her mouth. It had been a mad moment of impulse, the kind of free fall Isobel felt when improvising, which, she reminded herself, she wasn't very good at. Maybe trusting her instincts was a bad idea. But she'd done it. She'd arranged for Candy to come in at four to meet with Sarah, who, Isobel felt certain, would not be there. How would Candy react when she realized who Isobel was?

"Okay, calm, calm," Isobel panted as she paced the tiny space behind her cubicle. "Think about what you want to ask her. You have plenty of questions. You have to stop talking to yourself - you're going to make yourself crazy!"

Could she be putting herself in danger with a face-to-face confrontation? No, Candy couldn't possibly have shot the judge in the back while sitting across from him. Besides, even if by some stretch she had done it, she would hardly show up armed to meet her attorney.

Isobel forced herself to sit down and make notes as if this were a bona fide meeting. As the afternoon turtled by, with still no word from Sarah, Isobel distracted herself by organizing her thoughts on paper. At three fifteen, an email from Jack popped into her inbox.

"Hey. Here's Andrew's address: 139 West 19th Street, Bsmt. 10011. I tried to call him, but his mailbox is full so I couldn't leave a message. Sounds like your best bet is def to pop the check in the mail. Hope this helps."

She thanked him, saved the message as unread so it would show up on her phone, and reviewed her notes. There was one last thing to do. She entered Sarah's office and removed Candy's file from the cabinet. She wasn't sure why, but it seemed important to have it at the ready for the meeting Candy didn't know she was having.

Then Isobel returned to her cubicle and sat down to wait.