You Are Not Alone(40)
Jane can feel Gina’s surprise swelling through the phone lines. “How’d you know?”
Jane grips the pen. Shay, she writes, underlining the name so heavily that her pen rips through the page. “It’s a long story and I’ll explain everything, but could you just quickly let me know what else she did?” Jane’s stomach tightens as she waits for the reply.
“Nothing really.” Gina sounds puzzled now. “She asked for Amanda’s mom’s address so she could send a sympathy card.”
Jane closes her eyes. “Did you share it with her?”
“No, I told her I couldn’t give it out, but I’d be happy to forward the letter on.”
Jane is already grabbing her bag and coat. “I don’t want to alarm you, but this woman has been doing some really strange things,” Jane blurts. “She showed up at Amanda’s memorial and lied about how she knew her. I don’t believe she was ever a patient. I don’t know what she could be writing to Amanda’s mother, but it’s definitely not a sympathy card.”
“Oh, wow, are you kidding me? I had no idea. She was so convincing.”
“Her name is Shay Miller. If she shows up again, please call me right away, okay?”
“S-H-A-Y? She gave me a different name, started with an M, I think. Hang on, I’m going to get to a computer and check something.”
There’s silence for a few moments. Then Gina says, “No one named Shay Miller was ever a patient here. I searched our records.”
“I’m going to reach out to Amanda’s mom now. She can’t open that card.”
“Wait.” Gina hesitates. “Come to think of it, she never did drop it off.”
* * *
“There’s a reporter from E! Entertainment heading this way,” Cassandra says to Dean Bremmer, the twenty-two-year-old actor by her side. “He’s going to ask two questions. The first is what it was like to work with Matthew McConaughey. And then he’ll ask what drew you to your character. You’ve got this; you’ve answered these questions a dozen times before.”
Dean nods. “Is this ever going to get easier?”
“Definitely.” Cassandra smiles at him.
The bright lights of the E! camera have just illuminated Dean when Cassandra feels a hand grip her elbow.
Jane leans in close. An onlooker might imagine she’s whispering to her sister something about how much she enjoyed the movie.
“I just spoke with one of Amanda’s coworkers, Gina, then I called Amanda’s mom,” Jane murmurs.
Cassandra smiles, as if delighted to hear it.
“What was it like to work with Matthew?” the reporter asks Dean.
“Oh, a total nightmare!” Dean cracks, flashing a winning smile.
Cassandra nods at Dean as Jane whispers again.
“A few days ago, Shay went to the hospital and pretended to be one of Amanda’s former patients. She was trying to get Amanda’s mother’s address.”
Cassandra stiffens almost imperceptibly.
The E! reporter asks the second question Cassandra has approved in advance: “What drew you to play this complicated and sometimes infuriating character?”
“It was all about understanding his truth,” Dean replies earnestly.
Jane continues, “Gina didn’t provide the address and I phoned Amanda’s mother on my way here. She hasn’t heard a word from Shay. But she said today, when she woke up from a nap, she found a bouquet of flowers on the front porch.”
“I don’t understand,” Cassandra murmurs. “Someone left Amanda’s mother flowers, but didn’t try to talk to her?”
Jane speaks four words into her sister’s ear:
“She brought yellow zinnias.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SHAY
One of the best ways to get someone to like you is to ask them to do a favor for you. In one study conducted in both the U.S. and Japan, people who thought they were working on a joint project ended up reporting liking someone more when that person asked for their help with the task. This is called the Benjamin Franklin effect. The phenomenon is named for the way the founding father used this tactic to appeal to a political rival, by asking the man to lend him a book from his library.
—Data Book, page 32
WHEN THE INTERCOM BUZZES, I press the button to let in the Moore sisters.
I’m holding Jane’s sun charm necklace, thinking about how I couldn’t tell them the truth: that I’d gone to the trouble and expense of renting a car and driving four and a half hours to retrieve the necklace. It would make me seem desperate. Plus, how could I admit I’d basically stolen it back?
Now I look around my apartment, realizing how small and unsophisticated it appears. I consider hurrying downstairs to meet them, but that seems rude.
Sean and Jody are sprawled on the sofa, her feet in his lap, watching a Tina Fey movie. They don’t even look up at the sound of the buzzer. They probably think I’ve ordered in Chinese food. I haven’t had a visitor in months, since Mel came over for dinner before her baby was born.
I clear my throat. “Hey, um, someone’s coming by to—”
There’s a single, sharp rap on the door.