Then You Were Gone Read Online Free PDF Page B

for coming in.” He’s a big guy. Round and happy-looking with wild, watery eyes.
    “Sure.”
    “Your stepdad—”
    “Sam. He’s not—he’s my mom’s boyfriend,” I stammer.
    “Sorry.” He’s smacking his clipboard with an eraser head. “Sam said he saw Dakota a few nights before her car turnedup. Fighting with someone outside a music venue—” He checks his notes. “The Echo? On Sunset?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Is that a club you frequent?”
    “Can’t get in.” I raise one limp hand. “Seventeen.”
    Walsh nods. “You know anyone who drives an old Volkswagen like the one Sam saw?”
    “No.”
    “You know anyone who might want to harm Dakota?”
    Another “no,” followed by a huge dagger of fear jabbing at my solar plexus. My head jumps to Julian. I chew my cheeks out of guilt.
    “Were you two close?”
    “I—for a while. We’re not now.” I wait for more. Nothing comes. “Is she—are you sure she’s . . . ?” Can’t say it. Is she gone for real, for good, forever? “What I mean, is—”
    “I know what you mean.” A beat. “We’re exploring every angle.”
    I tug the loose end of one braid. “She does this, though, you know. Takes off sometimes?”
    “Yeah?”
    “We were thirteen, maybe? She just—she went away one night. We had plans and she never showed.” I shrug. “She turned up, though. Totally fine. She’d, like, spent the night walking. She walked from Echo Park to Sunset Strip andback. She just—she wanted to see if she could do it.” I pull a piece of berry gum from my purse, tear off the wrapping, and eat it.
    “She did that more than once?”
    “Yeah. You stop worrying after a while.” I instantly, inexplicably, want to weep.
    “When’s the last time you two talked?”
    “Two years?”
    “And you just—grew apart?”
    No. “Sort of.” No slow drift. We were inseparable and then we weren’t.
    “Any idea why she reached out to you?” He waits, his face frozen and unreadable. I shake my head as he shifts his weight, uncrossing then recrossing his legs. “Well, what’s she like?”
    Loves Bowie, Blondie, Red Vines, and brownie batter. Sleeps with a night-light. Loves old horror ( The Exorcist, Suspiria, The Omen ) and the West Side Story movie sound track. “Um, I don’t—it’s been a while, you know?”
    “That’s okay.” He drops his clipboard. “Did she have anyone special? A boyfriend?”
    “I—” I freeze up.
    “Okay, you know what?” He waves a hand dismissively, as if to say, none of this matters , when we both know that’s not true. “What about her band?” He checks his notes. “David Gibbons, Julian Boyd, Gian Colangelo? Know any of them?”
    No, yes, no . “Julian.” I nod. “I don’t know him well. He’s in my lit class.”
    “Do you know if he and Dakota were involved? Romantically? Sexually?”
    Yes and yes . “I don’t—I just—I don’t know that much about him. Or their relationship, really . . .”
    “Okay.” His smile droops. Then, “It’s okay, Adrienne. You’re doing great.”
    This freaks me out. “Oh yeah?” I look down.
    “Yes.” And after a beat: “Anything else? Something you can think of that might help us find your friend faster?”
    I keep my head down. “Sorry,” I say.
    “Okay, well.” Walsh gets up. “You’ve been helpful.”
    “Have I?”

16.
    Alice Reed is naked, her knees tucked to her concave chest.
    “Get in! Fuck, it’s freezing, feels great!” Teddy says this, screaming and splashing and clinging to the pool’s edge. Lee cannonballs off a large rock. Kate wiggles out of her dinner dress and does an elegant side dive into the deep end. Everyone’s drunk. I’m dressed, halfway sober, sitting on a patio chair nursing a small glass of limoncello.
    “Adrienne Knox.” Kate swims up. Puckers her painted lips. Spits water at my feet. “Get naked, get in.”
    “No.”
    “Yes.” And when I don’t disrobe: “Prude.”
    She’s gone. Lee waves; I salute. Alice