CHAPTER FIVEOh please, don’t let it be Gina Rossellini. Lindsey looked at the digital clock on the night-table and calculated the time in California. Only nine o’clock. Maybe it was Marvia. Maybe—
“This is Sarah Kleinhoffer.” The voice was low, almost a whisper.
“I’m sorry, I can hardly hear you, Miss—”
“Then listen harder, stupid. I have to keep my voice down. I don’t want her to hear me.”
“Listen here,” Lindsey was annoyed, “I think you have the wrong room. Who was it—”
“You’re Lindsey the insurance man, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You were just at my house.”
“I was at—”
“In Winnetka.”
“Yes, but—”
“What’s your room number? I have to see you, dig? I’m going to sneak out of here. Just don’t leave, all right? Just stay put. What’s your room number?”
He told her.
She hung up.
Dig.
Li
