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“When we were going out to Cloud Gap on the Riv, Dave mentioned that you found a trunk in
storage at Concetta’s building.”
“Yes. My mother’s. I had no idea Momo had saved some of her things.”
“Dave told John and me that she was quite the party girl, back in the day.” It was actually Abra
that Dave had been talking to, via telepathic link, but this was something Dan felt it might be better
for his newly discovered half sister not to know, at least for the time being.
Lucy flashed Dave the reproachful look reserved for spouses who have been telling tales out of
school, but said nothing.
“He also said that when Alessandra dropped out of SUNY Albany, she was doing her student
teaching at a prep school in Vermont or Massachusetts. My father taught English—until he lost his
job for hurting a student, that is—in Vermont. At a school called Stovington Prep. And according to
my mother, he was quite the party boy in those days. Once I knew that Abra and Billy were safe, I ran
some numbers in my head. They seemed to add up, but I felt if anyone knew for sure, it would be
Alessandra Anderson’s mother.”
“Did she?” Lucy asked. She was leaning forward now, her hands on the console between the front
seats.
“Not everything, and we didn’t have long together, but she knew enough. She didn’t remember the
name of the school where your mother student-taught, but she knew it was in Vermont. And that
she’d had a brief affair with her supervising teacher. Who was, she said, a published writer.” Dan
paused. “My father was a published writer. Only a few stories, but some of them were in very good
magazines, like the Atlantic Monthly. Concetta never asked her for the man’s name, and Alessandra
never volunteered it, but if her college transcript is in that trunk, I’m pretty sure you’ll find that her
supervisor was John Edward Torrance.” He yawned and looked at his watch. “That’s all I can do right
now. Let’s go upstairs. Three hours’ sleep for all of us, then on to upstate New York. The roads will be
empty, and we should be able to make great time.”
“Do you swear she’s safe?” Lucy asked.
Dan nodded.
“All right, I’ll wait. But only for three hours. As for sleeping . . .” She laughed. The sound had no
humor in it.
9
When they entered Concetta’s condo, Lucy strode directly to the microwave in the kitchen, set the
timer, and showed it to Dan. He nodded, then yawned again. “Three thirty a.m., we’re out of here.”
She studied him gravely. “I’d like to go without you, you know. Right this minute.”
He smiled a little. “I think you better hear the rest of the story first.”
She nodded grimly.
“That and the fact that my daughter needs to sleep off whatever is in her system are the only things
holding me here. Now go lie down before you fall down.”
Dan and John took the guest room. The wallpaper and furnishings made it clear that it had been
mostly kept for one special little girl, but Chetta must have had other guests from time to time,
because there were twin beds.
As they lay in the dark, John said: “It’s not a coincidence that this hotel you stayed in as a child is
also in Colorado, is it?”
“No.”
“This True Knot is in the same town?”