“When did you last hear from her, Amanda?” Matt said.
“Maybe a week ago, after Maggie got back from her sailing vacation in BVI. I forget which day.”
“She was okay?”
Amanda shrugged. “She seemed to be. Why wouldn’t she be? I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. But then I was pretty caught up in my own world, making plans to come here and all.”
“Daphne,” Chad offered, “didn’t even know she was back from the islands.”
“I wrote Maggie a letter of recommendation for when she applied to UC-Berkeley,” Amanda said suddenly, wistfully.
“You mean Bezerkly?” Matt said derisively. “Home of Peace, Love, and Anarchists.”
Amanda shook her head.
“There are also normal people there, Matt. She was simply looking for a different environment. And boy did she find it. She’d followed a girl friend out for undergrad, then realized she really wasn’t a West Coast type. So she then decided, after two years, that it wasn’t for her. She said she came home to make a difference in Philly. And then I wrote another recommendation for when she went for her master’s degree at UP.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Matt said. “She could have gone and made a difference anywhere.”
“Yes, she could have. Someone else we know has similar resources and options.”
Matt met her stare—she doesn’t have to say what those glistening eyes are screaming, “Stop playing cop . . .”—and after a moment raised his eyebrows.
“Touché,” he said.
She made a thin smile and nodded, then cocked her head and said, “What did you mean by that, Matt? ‘No good deed . . .’? You don’t know something bad has happened to her.”
Well, I cannot tell her that Jason asked.
But after she gets over the initial shock of this, she’s going to put two and two together. . . .
He shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t know. Just a gut feeling.”
Amanda nodded thoughtfully, then put her napkin beside her plate and said, “Excuse me. I’m going to get some air.”
Matt immediately got to his feet and put his hand on her chair, sliding it back as she rose. Chad stood, too, absently wiping his hands on his napkin.
I shouldn’t have said that, Matt thought, looking at her sad face.
And so much for the oysters—nice job, Romeo.
If I knew it wouldn’t upset her more, I’d tell Jason I’d help.
Damn it . . .
[FOUR]
As they watched Amanda walk toward the entrance to the restaurant, three men—one fit and tanned who looked to be in his thirties and two middle-aged and sunburned—entered. Young blonde women, in tight dresses and high heels, were on their arms.
Amanda, seemingly oblivious to the group, squeezed past and went out the door.
The blonde with the younger man, who evidently was leading the group, giggled and grinned as she leaned into him. She was trim and tall and tanned, with a beautiful face featuring bright emerald eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
The younger man scanned the restaurant. He and Chad made eye contact, and Chad nodded once. Then he turned to the group and gestured for them to go into the bar.
Matt studied the guy as they left, and did not like what he saw.
“Who was that?” Matt said as he and Chad settled back in their chairs.