list of people who might have died or been injured.
Dad’s heart finally gave out … Mom had another stroke … or maybe it’s the town cops in Ithaca … Matt’s been out partying with his college buddies … he drove after having a few too many … or maybe it’s Barry … Susan’s new husband … Susan ad a heart attack or has inoperable cancer … or she’s killed herself … or started drinking again … or … or …
“H’lo?” Jeff said, licking his lips. His stomach was churning as he readied himself for whatever load of bad news was about to drop on his head.
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. If there had been a dial tone instead of the long, hollow silence, Jeff might have thought he had dreamed the phone had rung, but then—faintly—someone on the other end of the line took a deep, whistling breath.
Jeff’s panic rose, and he kicked away the sweat-soaked bed sheet that was tangled around his feet. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed, barely restraining the impulse to get up and start pacing just to be doing something to relieve the tension inside him. In spite of the heavy humidity in the air, a chill wrapped around his shoulders like a drape of thin cloth as he straightened up, preparing to tell whomever this was to fuck off and then hang up.
“’S that you, Jeff?” a man’s voice he didn’t recognize said.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Jeff realized his hand not holding the phone was balled into a fist. He consciously relaxed it. “Who the hell is this?”
Another pause, shorter this time, was followed by a faint, nervous chuckle.
“Sorry,” the voice said. “I was just lighting a cigarette. You’ll never guess in a million years.”
That was all the person on the other end of the line needed to say. A sudden rush made Jeff feel light-headed. In an instant, he was whisked back more than thirty years to when he was a kid.
“Tyler?” he said, incredulous. “No way. This can’t be Tyler Crosby.”
Jeff was amazed to hear himself say the name. A tight smile spread across his face.
“Freakin’-A straight it is,” the voice said. “How’d you know it was me?”
Feeling dizzy from the momentary flood of relief because no one was hurt or dead, Jeff let his shoulders sag as he sat down on the edge of the bed and took a shallow breath. He stared into the darkness as long-forgotten memories filled his mind. When they were kids, Tyler Crosby was always saying a million this or a million that …
“I told you a million times” … “I’ll bet you a million bucks” … “You’ll never guess in a million years” …
Back then, Jeff had jokingly said to him: “If I told you once, I told you a million times—you exaggerate,” but Tyler never got the joke.
“Easy as pie,” Jeff said with a faint chuckle as he dredged up a mental image of his childhood friend. Short, dark-haired with pale blue eyes and a Pillsbury Dough Boy physique. He couldn’t imagine how much Tyler had changed over the years. A moment later, though, his shoulders stiffened again, and he shivered when he wondered why Tyler Crosby was calling him after … how long had it been?
“’S been a helluva long time,” Jeff said, trying to sound a lot more at ease than he was feeling. “And—Christ! It’s late. What’s up?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tyler said. “I forgot. You’re three hours ahead of me. Sorry.”
“I’m guessing you live on the West Coast?”
“Yeah. L.A. I’m a lawyer. Mostly I do entertainment law.”
“No shit.” Jeff was painfully aware of the snap in his voice. Making small talk at this hour was already starting to wear thin. He had to be up at six o’clock to get ready for work. The last thing he needed to hear was that someone he hadn’t spoken to or even thought about much if at all in the last thirty-whatever years was some hot shot lawyer to the stars.
“I just got an e-mail from someone,” Tyler said, “a mutual friend, and was wondering if you’d gotten the same one.”
“An e-mail? I dunno.” Jeff scrubbed his face with the flat of his hand. His skin was oily with sweat. “I—uh, I won’t check my e-mail again until I get to the office in the morning.”
“I’ll bet you this one’s gonna interest you.”
“Bet me a million bucks?” Jeff asked, but Tyler didn’t get that