Читаем Six Years полностью

I expected to sleepwalk through the class. I was obviously distracted and, let’s face it, 8:00 A.M. was too early for most college students. But not today. Today the class was beyond lively, with hands shooting up, points and counterpoints worded strongly but with no animosity. I took no sides, of course. I moderated and marveled. The class was in the zone. Usually with the early class, the clock’s minute hand moved as though bathed in syrup. Today I wanted to reach up and grab that stupid hand and stop it from flying forward. I loved every moment. The ninety minutes passed in a blur, and I realized yet again how lucky I was to have this job.

Lucky in occupation, unlucky in love. Or something like that.

I headed to my office at Clark House to make the phone call. I stopped at Mrs. Dinsmore’s desk and awarded her my best charm-yer-pants-off smile. She frowned and said, “That work with single women nowadays?”

“What, the charming smile?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes,” I said.

She shook her head. “And they say not to worry about the future.” Mrs. Dinsmore sighed and straightened out some papers. “Okay, pretend you got me all hot and bothered. What do you want?”

I tried to shake away the hot-and-bothered image. It wasn’t easy. “I need to get ahold of a student file.”

“Do you have the student’s permission?”

“No.”

“Ergo the charming smile.”

“Right.”

“Is this one of your current students?”

I reloaded the smile. “No. He was never a student of mine.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“In fact, he graduated twenty years ago.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Actually, with that smile, you look kind of constipated. What’s the student’s name?”

“Todd Sanderson.”

She sat back and crossed her arms. “Didn’t I just read his obituary on the alumni page?”

“You did.”

Mrs. Dinsmore studied my face. My smile was gone. A few seconds later, she slipped her reading glasses back on and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

I headed into my office and closed the door. No more excuses. It was nearly 10:00 A.M. now. I took out the piece of paper and looked at the number I’d jotted down last night. I picked up the phone, hit the button for an outside line, and dialed.

I had rehearsed what I would say, but nothing had sounded sane, so I figured that I would play it by ear. The phone rang two times, then three. Julie probably wouldn’t answer. No one answered home phones anymore, especially when they came from an unfamiliar number. The caller ID would show Lanford College. I didn’t know if that would encourage or discourage answering.

On the fourth ring, the phone was picked up. I gripped the receiver tighter and waited. A woman said a tentative “Hello?”

“Julie?”

“Who is this please?”

“It’s Jake Fisher.”

Nothing.

“I dated your sister.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Jake Fisher.”

“Have we met?”

“Sort of. I mean, we were both at Natalie’s wedding—”

“I don’t understand. Who are you exactly?”

“Before Natalie married Todd, she and I were, uh, seeing each other.”

Silence.

“Hello?” I said.

“Is this a joke?”

“What? No. In Vermont. Your sister and I—”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“You used to talk to your sister on the phone a lot. I even heard you two talking about me, in fact. After the wedding, you put your hand on my arm and asked me if I was okay.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I was gripping the receiver so tight I feared it might shatter. “Like I said, Natalie and I dated—”

“What do you want? Why are you calling me?”

Wow, that was a good question. “I wanted to talk to Natalie.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to make sure that she was okay. I saw an obituary for Todd, and I thought that maybe I should reach out and just, I don’t know, offer my condolences.”

More silence. I let it last as long as I could.

“Julie?”

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about, but never call here again. Do you understand? Never.”

She hung up the phone.

Chapter 6

I tried calling back, but Julie didn’t answer.

I didn’t understand. Had she really forgotten who I was? That seemed doubtful. Had I scared her with my call-out-of-the-blue? I didn’t know. The whole conversation had been surreal and spooky. It would have been one thing to tell me that Natalie didn’t want to hear from me or that I was wrong, Todd was still alive. Whatever. But she didn’t even know who I was.

How was that possible?

So now what? Calm down, for one. Deep breaths. I needed to continue my two-prong attack: Figure out what the deal was with the late Todd Sanderson, and find Natalie. The second would, of course, negate the first. Once I found Natalie, I would know all. I wondered how to do that exactly. I had looked her up online and found nothing. Her sister, too, seemed to be a dead end. So where to go? I didn’t know, but in this day and age, how hard would it be to get an address on her?

An idea came to me. I signed on to the campus website and checked the teaching schedules. Professor Shanta Newlin had a class in an hour.

I buzzed Mrs. Dinsmore.

“What, you expect me to have the file that fast?”