Your Eyelids Are Growing Heavy Read Online Free PDF

there’s an organic cause.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    Megan shrugged.
    Gus leaned back on the sofa, completely unselfconscious for the first time since his guest had come in. Somehow Megan Phillips had managed to lose the best part of a weekend; it was a puzzle, all right. Gus loved puzzles.
    â€œOkay,” he said, “think back to last Friday. What’s the last thing you remember? It’s time to go home—you pick up your purse, turn out the lights. Then what?”
    â€œThen I went to the elevator, pushed the button, waited. When the car came, I got on and …” She trailed off, puzzled.
    â€œDo you remember getting off the elevator?”
    â€œNo. No, I don’t.”
    â€œSo whatever happened started while you were on the elevator. Was anybody on the elevator with you?”
    â€œNo, the car was empty. I’d worked a little late—almost everyone else had already gone.”
    â€œDid you see anyone between your office and the elevator?”
    Megan shook her head.
    â€œBack up a little. Who’s the last person you do remember seeing on Friday?”
    Megan squinted her eyes. “One of the secretaries, I think. Yes. Ellie Mattheson. I dictated a couple of memos.”
    â€œBut after her, nobody? Are you sure?”
    Megan thought a moment. “Yes, I’m sure. Ellie’s the last person I remember seeing.”
    â€œAnything unusual happen during the day?”
    â€œNot a thing.”
    Gus had reservations about that one but decided to let it ride for the moment. “All right, go ahead to Sunday morning. You woke up on the golf course. Where, exactly?”
    â€œOn the fairway of the fourteenth hole. A groundskeeper woke me up.”
    â€œDid you know him?”
    â€œNever saw him before. Then I went to the clubhouse and called a cab. There was a man in the clubhouse reading the Sunday paper—that’s how I found out I’d lost two nights and a day instead of just one night.”
    â€œYou came home in a cab. Where was your car?”
    Megan looked at him alertly. “It’s interesting you should ask that. Monday morning I found it parked around the corner, on Bellefonte Street. I never park on Bellefonte.”
    Gus felt a little stir of excitement. Behind the apartment building was a parking area that wasn’t visible from the street; you had to drive through a little alley to get to it. Sometimes the residents of the building would leave their cars out front for a minute, on Howe Street, while they rushed in to get something and right back out again. But there was no need for any of them to park on Bellefonte.
    â€œYou know what that means, don’t you?” Gus said. “Somebody else drove your car here, somebody who doesn’t know about the parking area in back. All the parking spots on Howe must have been taken, so he had to drive around the corner to Bellefonte.”
    Megan nodded. “I’ve been wondering about that. But who?”
    â€œMore to the point, how? Where were your car keys?”
    Megan’s eyes grew wide. “I never thought of that. They were in my purse.”
    â€œSo somebody brought your car home for you and then returned the keys to your purse,” Gus mused. “Or else he managed to break into your car and hot-wire the engine. Was the window by the driver’s seat rolled down a little, maybe an inch?”
    Megan thought back. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
    â€œWhat about scratches in the paint, some sign that a coat hanger or something had been used to unlock the door?”
    â€œDidn’t notice anything.”
    They were both silent for a while. Then Gus said, “I think it’s safe to conclude you didn’t spend the weekend alone in the wood picking mushrooms—wrong time of year for that anyway. There’s somebody out there who knows what you were doing. He made sure your car got home safely—but not you. Don’t you