George called last Saturday to make certain she would be there Sunday—this past Sunday. And he called yesterday to see if she wanted to go out to dinner Thursday night.
“Answer your damn telephone, woman!” he said. “If you don’t call me, I’m just going to show up and take you someplace you don’t like. Call me!” He yelled the last part, as though she could actually hear him if he yelled loud enough.
She deleted all the messages as she listened, except for the last two from Richard. She saved those to listen to later.
First she called Theresa. She did not answer her phone, so Myla left a message. “As soon as you’re finished, come back here. Cathy got drunk and trashed her room. She’s going home with you tonight. I want her out.”
She called Mrs. Ford next.
“Hello, Myla!” Mrs. Ford said.
