In Medias Res Read Online Free

anyway.”
    “I’d love to talk to her.”
    “To beg her to come to her senses and come home to a nice, cushy private practice? I’ve already tried that. It didn’t work.”
    “Even so, is there a number where I can reach her?” In the address book, her cell phone number had been crossed out. Had she changed it and not given me her new one? That didn’t sound like something a best friend would do.
    “In the middle of the desert?” he scoffed. “I don’t think so. E-mail’s your best bet. Considering she doesn’t check it every day, even that takes a while. If she gets her hands on a sat phone, though, and deigns to check in with me, I’ll tell her to give you a call. But you two are as thick as thieves. You always have been. It still amazes me that Jack was able to pry you apart long enough for your father to walk you down the aisle. If you think she’s going to call me before she calls you, you’re dreaming.”
    “But she might not know where to reach me.”
    “The vacation house, right?”
    I started. How much had I told him? How well did I know him? If he were my best friend’s husband, very. He would have had to meet with my approval—just as Jack would have had to meet with Jennifer’s.
    “Are you okay, Syd?” Marcus asked. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
    That was the understatement of the year.
    “I’m fine,” I lied. “I just wish I’d had more time with her, that’s all.”
    “You and me both. I assume you heard about the verdict. Ten years, huh?”
    Ten years? What was he talking about? Then I remembered the headline I had seen during the flight from Chicago. Something about the Subway Slasher. Had I been involved with the case in some way? How was that possible when Jack said I had quit the firm I worked for?
    “Looks like the powers-that-be should have listened to you. When they call begging you to come back to the fold—and you know they will—I hope you hold out for a six-figure raise. You deserve it after what they put you through. I’d better go. I have to plug a hole in a client’s firewall before a hacker tries to walk through it. Take care, Syd.”
    He hung up and I wandered back over to the luggage carousel. The number of bags to choose from had dwindled to a more manageable sum. I found mine with little effort. As I headed outside to hail a cab, I reflected on my conversation with Marcus—and what it meant.
    J for Jennifer?
    It was theoretically possible, but it made no sense. Not if we were as close as Marcus said we were. Then again, I had no way of knowing if she’d told me about her sudden departure or if she’d kept me in the dark. If we’d had a rift, she could have written the note.
    Cars, taxis, and shuttle buses fought for space in the tiny parking lot. From the outside, the squat one-story airport looked more like a strip mall—minus the hair salons and nail shops. I headed for the cab at the head of the line. The driver leaned against his car, a bright yellow Chevrolet Caprice with advertisements for traveling road shows painted on both of its rear doors. Dressed in sandals, a garish Hawaiian shirt, and knee-length shorts, the cabbie looked readier for vacation than I did.
    As he stowed my luggage in the generous trunk, I slid into the roomy backseat. I pulled forty dollars out of my wallet to pay for the cab ride so I wouldn’t have to flash my money in front of him later.
    He climbed into the front seat and slammed the door. “Where are you headed?” he asked, turning on the meter as he pulled away from the curb.
    I gave him the address of the house on United Street.
    “Sure thing.” He flipped through several radio stations before settling on one that was playing upbeat reggae. “Is this all right?”
    “It’s fine.”
    I pulled out the note and took another look at it. The message was unchanged.
    I won’t be the lie you tell .
    Jack said I was searching for the truth. I thought I might be better served trying to uncover a lie.

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