Eye of the Beholder by Shari Shattuck

Author:Shari Shattuck
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Chapter 30

“There’s a Whitney Whitehorse on line one for you? Do you want me to take a message?” Celia had knocked tentatively on the door of Greer’s room while she was changing the covering of her treatment table.

“Oh, okay, I’ll take it. Thank you, Celia.” The thin face slipped back out of the narrow opening, and as Greer turned her attention to the blinking light on the phone, a vague foreboding rose inside her like a tide turning.

“Hi, Whitney, is everything all right?”

“Probably. But the school called, and apparently Joy didn’t show up today. I was wondering if Joshua was there and if he’d seen her, or if you guys had heard anything.” Whitney tried to keep her voice light, but strands of worry were woven into it like an overly loud plaid.

The waves of premonition lapped higher in Greer’s chest, salty and icy cold. “No, I haven’t heard anything. Joshua went this morning on his bike. He doesn’t have his cell phone on at school, so I can’t call him, but I’ll leave a message at home for him to call you as soon as he gets there. Okay?”

“Okay, I’m sure she’s fine. It’s not the first time she’s cut classes to go hang out and smoke with those loser friends of hers.” There was a pause, and then Whitney asked hesitantly, “What do you think?”

Greer didn’t want to answer—or rather, she did, but she wanted to be reassuring, confidently cheerful. Instead she told Whitney the truth. “I don’t know what to think yet. But I have a question. Was Joy wearing the bracelet I gave her when she left today?” Greer held her breath waiting for the answer. Please say yes, she was praying.

“I think so. I didn’t really notice, but I don’t think she’s taken it off since you gave it to her.” She waited for a response, but Greer was breathing her thanks, so she asked, “Why? Is it important?”

“Maybe,” Greer told her. “It will help me find her energy and sense what’s going on with her.”

Whitney perked up, eager for an ounce of control in the situation. “Can you locate her from that?”

Greer felt sad. “No. I don’t have that kind of ability. Only a sense of what forces are around a person, mostly future influences. But maybe it will help. Let me call you back in a little while. Call me if you hear anything?”

“Absolutely, of course. Greer?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Should I be afraid?”

“No. You should be as positive as you possibly can.” Greer hung up the phone and wished she could take her own advice. She punched the intercom button on the phone and said, “Celia?”

Over the busy noise of the salon came the response: “Yes?”

“Can you please see that I’m not interrupted for about ten minutes, no calls, no questions?”

“Uh, sure. Do you have a client?” Celia asked, and Greer could hear her flipping through the appointment book.

“No, not until three. Just, please, I need ten minutes. Okay?”

“Sure.”

The rustling noise of people and activity ceased when she cut the connection.

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