Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

suggested.

"Thank you," I said, trying to remember where

the parlor was in this big house. She must have read

that in my face.

"Just go down the corridor to the third doorway

on the left, dear. There's a phone book on the shelf of

the small table."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll be in after a while and

then we can go to the den and watch some television

if you like. Desperate Lives is on tonight. Do you

watch it? Philip calls it nothing more than a soap

opera, but it's so much more than that, it's . . . just

more," she said.

"No, I haven't heard of it," I said.

"Haven't heard of it? Oh dear. Well, maybe

you'll like it," she said and I went to the parlor. I

found the phone book and discovered three Gina

Simons, but the address pointed out the right one.

With my fingers trembling again, I lifted t

he receiver.

It was an antique brass and ivory dial phone and I

misdialed the first time and got a phone number that

was disconnected.

I dialed correctly the next time, but after only

three rings, an answering machine came on. "This is Gina Simon. I'm sorry I'm not able to

take this call. Please leave your name, the time of

your call and a brief message at the sound of the

beep," the voice directed. I listened closely. It did

sound like Mommy, but there was an affectation, an