Now You See Her Read Online Free PDF

the pub where I was sitting.”
    “You were drinking?” he asked, almost hopefully.
    “I was drinking tea.”
    “And Devon walked by,” he said.
    “Yes.”
    “Dublin has, what … a population of a million and a half?”
    “I know. It’s quite a coincidence,” Marcy said before Peter had the chance, deciding not to tell him the sighting had taken place in Cork.
    Another moment’s silence, then, “Did you talk to her?”
    “What?”
    “Did she see you? Did you talk to her?”
    “No. I tried following her but I lost her in the crowd.” Again she felt him shaking his head. “Just because she didn’t see
me
doesn’t mean I didn’t see
her.”
    He sighed. The sigh said he’d given it his best shot. There was nothing more to talk about. “Come home, Marcy. Your sister is half out of her mind.…”
    “Good-bye, Peter. Please tell Judith not to worry.”
    “Marcy—”
    She hung up the phone before he could say anything else.
    The phone rang again almost immediately. This time Marcy let it go directly to voice mail. If it wasn’t Peter, it was Judith, and she didn’t have the strength to have the same conversation a second time. If they wanted to think she was crazy, so be it. They were probably right.
    But that didn’t mean she was wrong about Devon.
    She’d leave for Cork first thing the next morning, she decided, a renewed burst of energy pushing her to her feet. She retrieved her suitcase from the closet, placing it on the cream-colored ottoman at the foot of the bed. Within minutes, it was packed, shoes and nightgowns at the bottom, shirts and dresses laid neatly over the top, followed by a few T-shirts and her favorite jeans, along with a nice pair of black pants and a couple of sweaters, her underwear stuffed into every available crevice and corner. The travel agent had advised layers. You never knew what the weather in Ireland would be like. Even mid-July could sometimes feel more like the middle of October, she’d warned Marcy. And make sure to pack an umbrella.
    Yeah, sure, Marcy thought, picking her dirt-stained coat off the floor and hanging it over the back of the mahogany chair that sat in front of the sleek, modern desk. The travel agent had highly recommended the five-star luxury hotel, perfectly situated on the cusp of the historic old city and the somewhatbohemian district of Temple Bar. Her room was spacious and sophisticated and warm. Probably she didn’t need the rather grand king-size bed, but what the hell? At least she had plenty of room to thrash around without worrying about someone poking her in the ribs, telling her to be still.
    She walked to the large window that overlooked College Green, across from Trinity College. The street was filling up with people, all of whom seemed to know exactly where they were going and what they were doing. She glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was almost eight o’clock. She hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch. She thought she should probably call room service, ask them to send something up. Or maybe she should go out, let the night breeze blow Peter’s doubts out of her head.
    Except that Peter didn’t have any doubts. He never had. Wasn’t that one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place? That he’d always been so sure of himself, so certain of everything? Hadn’t that been exactly what she was looking for?
    He was right about one thing: It would have been too much of a coincidence for her to have spotted Devon here. If their daughter had settled in Dublin, and not in Cork, the odds were that Marcy never would have found her. Dublin was an amazingly young city. An astounding half its inhabitants were under the age of thirty, she remembered reading as she watched a young woman fly toward her boyfriend’s extended arms on the street below. The kiss that followed was long and deep. After about thirty seconds, they broke apart, the girl laughing giddily, the boy gazing dreamily up toward her hotel room.