CHAPTER 28
THE ASSISTANT
“Come on, Meera. Answer the damn phone!” I begged, but it was still turned off. I left one final message. “If you don’t get back to me by this time tomorrow—it’s, uh, nine a.m. in LA—then I’m coming to find you. Please call me. Please.”
I sent an email saying the same.
Where the hell was she?
When I’d visited the Portuguese consulate on Monday, they said they couldn’t help. That they were there to assist Portuguese citizens abroad, and if an American citizen had gone missing in Portugal, then I should call the US embassy in Lisbon. I’d already tried that. They said I’d need to file a missing persons report with the Portuguese police, and we all know how that went, don’t we? Anyhow, I’d become, well, my high school English teacher would have described it as “ov
