Dana telephoned Joan Sinisi’s apartment. Greta answered: “Good afternoon.”
“Greta, this is Dana Evans. I’d like to speak to Miss Sinisi, please.”
“I’m sorry. Miss Sinisi is not taking any calls.”
“Well, would you tell her that it’s Dana Evans, and I need—”
“I’m sorry, Miss Evans. Miss Sinisi is not available.” The line went dead.
The following morning Dana dropped Kemal off at school. In a frozen sky, a pale sun was trying to come out. On street corners all over the city, the same faux Santa Clauses were ringing their charity bells.
I must find an apartment for the three of us before New Year’s Eve, Dana thought.
When Dana got to the studio, she spent the morning in a conference with the news staff, discussing which stories to go with and the locations they needed to have taped. There was a story of a particularly brutal unsolved murder, and Dana thought of the Winthrops.
She called Joan Sinisi’s number again.
“Good afternoon.”
“Greta, it’s very important that I talk to Miss Sinisi. Tell her that Dana Evans—”
“She won’t talk to you, Miss Evans.” The line went dead.
What is going on? Dana wondered.
Dana went in to see Matt Baker. Abbe Lasmann greeted her.
“Congratulations! I understand the wedding date is all set.”
Dana smiled. “Yes.”
Abbe sighed. “What a romantic proposal.”
“That’s my fella.”
“Dana, our Advice to the Lovelorn columnist said that after the wedding, you should go out and buy a couple bags of canned groceries and stash them in the trunk of your car.”
“Why on earth…?”
“She says that one day down the road, you might decide to have a little extracurricular fun and get home late. When Jeff asks where you’ve been, you just show him the bags and say, ‘Shopping.’He’ll—”
“Thank you, Abbe dear. Is Matt available?”
“I’ll tell him you’re here.”
Moments later, Dana was in Matt Baker’s office.
“Sit down, Dana. Good news. We just got the latest Nielsens. We clobbered the opposition again last night.”
“Great. Matt, I talked to an ex-secretary of Taylor Winthrop’s and she—”
He grinned. “You Virgos never let go, do you? You told me that you—”
“I know, but listen to this. When she was working for Taylor Winthrop, she filed a lawsuit against him. It never came to trial because he settled with her. She’s living in an enormous penthouse she couldn’t possibly have afforded on a secretary’s salary, so the settlement must have been really heavy. When I mentioned Winthrop’s name, this woman was terrified, absolutely terrified. She acted as though she were in fear for her life.”
Matt Baker said patiently, “Did she say she was in fear for her life?”
“No.”
“Did she say she was in fear of Taylor Winthrop?”
“No, but—”
“So for all you know, she might be afraid of a boyfriend who beats her up or burglars under her bed. You have absolutely nothing to go on, do you?”
“Well, I—” Dana saw the expression on his face.
“Nothing concrete.”
“Right. About the Nielsens…”
Joan Sinisi was watching the evening news on WTN. Dana was saying, “…and in local news, according to the latest report, the crime rate in the United States has gone down twenty-seven percent in the last twelve months. The largest decreases in crime have been in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Detroit…”
Joan Sinisi was studying Dana’s face, looking into her eyes, trying to come to a decision. She watched the entire newscast, and by the time it was over, she had made up her mind.
VII
WHEN DANA WALKED into her office on Monday morning, Olivia said, “Good morning. You’ve had three calls from some woman who won’t leave her name.”
“Did she leave a number?”
“No. She said she would call back.”
Thirty minutes later Olivia said, “That woman’s on the line again. Do you want to talk to her?”
“All right.” Dana picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Dana Evans. Who is—”
“This is Joan Sinisi.”
Dana’s heart quickened. “Yes, Miss Sinisi…”
“Do you still want to talk to me?” She sounded nervous.
“Yes. Very much.”
“All right.”
“I can be at your apartment in—”
“No!” Panic was in her voice. “We must meet somewhere else. I—I think I’m being watched.”