The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(42)

“No, Eddie. The logs can wait.”

“I’ll just memorize them, then.” He nodded reassuringly. Once a minute for the rest of their drive, he would glance at the speedometer and mentally log their speed. He stared at the passing countryside out his window. He wasn’t admiring the beauty so much as looking for something familiar. Something to latch on to. But most of the houses and buildings and malls were built after Eddie had arrived at Harmony House, and he had never left the grounds. Not once. The lack of familiarity was disconcerting. Things were different. That made him uncomfortable. And that was not good.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“I want to go back to Harmony House.” His hand started to twitch, like he was getting ready to slap himself.

“To get your notebooks?”

“I don’t recognize any of these buildings.” He pointed out the window. “Those offices weren’t there before. Or that Burger King. Or that Shell station. None of this was here.”

She took a deep breath and spoke with authority. “Eddie, please look at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I am familiar to you. Look at me and nothing else. Can you do that?”

“I can try.” He leaned closer to her so that she was all he could see. He couldn’t look at her for very long, and certainly not in the eyes, but he was able to keep bringing his gaze back to her.

“Is that better?” She already knew the answer.

He blinked repeatedly. “You’re pretty.”

She remembered the first time they met. That was the second thing he ever said to her, right after he asked what she’d been feeling when she left Dr. Fenton’s office after being hired. “You’ve said that before.”

“People who are pretty get told that a lot. Do you get told that a lot, Skylar?”

“By you, I do.” She smiled.

He kept staring at her as they got on the interstate. They quickly reached an interchange indicating that those traveling to Philadelphia should keep left. Eddie noticed the signs out of the corner of his eye as Skylar remained in the right lanes. “We’re going the wrong way, Skylar.”

“We need to make a stop first.”

“Where?”

She hesitated for just a second. “New York City.”

“I don’t want to go to New York City. I went there once when I was six years old. It was too loud. People in New York City yell too much. And honk their horns more than is necessary. The buildings are tall, and everything echoes. It’s much louder than Philadelphia.”

“We won’t stay there very long, but there is someone in New York who can help us.”

“How long is very long?”

“I don’t want to give you a specific number, because I never want you to think I lied to you.”

Eddie nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Why do we need help?”

“That is another thing you are going to have to trust me on.”

“That is now two things.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Will there be more things you will ask me to trust you on, Skylar?”

“I don’t know, Eddie. Probably.”

He nodded, as if processing the information, but he was only responding that way because he’d seen other people do it. It was one of the many physical responses he’d practiced a great many times. “There is one good thing about New York City.”

“What’s that?”

“Carnegie Hall. Many people believe it has the greatest acoustics in the world. I can’t say for sure because I have never been there, but I do know it was designed by an architect named William Tuthill in 1890. He was an amateur cellist who had what many people called a golden ear, which meant that he could hear things other people couldn’t.”

“Kind of like you.”

He paused to consider the similarity. He had never thought of himself as having golden ears. He tried to look at his ears in the rearview mirror. “Do you think I could build a concert hall like William Tuthill one day?”

“I think you could build an even better one.”

“I should probably go to architecture school first. Then learn to play the cello and serve on the board of the Oratorio Society of New York, because that is where William Tuthill met Andrew Carnegie. He’s the person who gave William Tuthill the money to build the hall, which is why it’s called Carnegie Hall. Have you ever been there, Skylar?”

“Yes, I have.”

“You’re lucky.”

Skylar could only shake her head. Lucky was the last thing she felt right now.

“Did you know the main hall has two thousand eight hundred and four seats?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did you know it was one of New York City’s last big public buildings constructed entirely of brickwork with no steel frame, until one was added in the 1900s?”

“I do now.”

“After we stop in New York City, can we still go to my old house in Philadelphia? I want to hear my mother sing.”

“I promise we will.”

“A promise is a promise.”

“Yes, it is.” She reached into her purse and fished for something. She withdrew a business card, which Eddie read.

“Who is Detective Butler McHenry?”