Saturday, May 29th 8:30 A.M.

What a way to start a Memorial Day weekend. Dean woke up feeling as if a truck had hit him, backed up and rolled over him a couple more times just to make sure. Every part of his body ached and he could only bend his elbow halfway. But in spite of a quantum measure of misery, it was a holiday weekend, the day was beautiful, as Dean discerned as soon as he managed to pry his eyes open and inhale the smell of Fred's coffee. By 9:00 and after four aspirins, he had stretched the worst of the pain away, filled his stomach with some fresh Danish and was beginning to feel pretty good. He declined an invitation to join Fred and two neighborhood cronies for bowling, but had no desire to stick around the house all day either. It was a day made for biking and in spite of his body problems, he gave Cynthia Byrne a call to see if she wanted to join him. He knew she'd have little trouble keeping up with him in his present condition.

Randy Byrne answered the phone and seemed surprised to hear Dean's voice.

"No, she's not here. I kind of hoped she might be with you," and then he added, a tad self-consciously, "she's been gone all night."

"What?"

Randy hesitated, as if not sure how candid he should be. "Mom was pretty upset about something-something that came in the mail yesterday."

"And she just left the house without telling you?"

"Sort of. I knew she was upset at suppertime but she wouldn't talk about it. She kept saying she was okay and insisted I go ahead and go out with Jen. When I got home, there was a note on the fridge. It said, 'Don't wait up. I'll be all right. Take care.'" He paused. "The neighbors haven't seen her and she isn't out with Mr. Mayer either. He called a little while ago too."

"Mayer? Your dad's old boss?"

"Yeah. He calls a lot but I don't think Ma likes it-him being married and all. Anyway, he hasn't seen her either."

Dean forced a pot full of evil thoughts about the beanpole bas­tard Edwin Mayer aside in deference to his concern over Cynthia's whereabouts. He dragged over a chair with his foot. "Did you see what she received in the mail-what was so upsetting?"

"Not really. She had a paper in her hand-it was just a letter."

"She didn't leave it around the house?"

"No," he said and sighed deeply. "I don't know what to do. She said not to worry, but it's hard not to."




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