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1
Holly is up with the sun. She has a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, then goes to her computer and opens Twitter. She has gotten one reply to her Craslow query. Elmer Craslow (Eagles fan, MAGA fan, Nyack Strong!) says he’s never heard of Ellen Craslow, of Bibb County, Georgia. Holly isn’t terribly disappointed. She has eleven more chances. In baseball it’s three strikes and you’re out.
As she’s putting on her sneakers in preparation for her morning walk—it’s when she does her best thinking—her phone trills. It’s Jerome, and he sounds excited. In a voice slightly muffled by the mask he’s wearing, he tells her he’s in an Uber, headed for the airport. He’s going to New York.
Holly is alarmed. “In a plane?”
“That’s the usual way one travels a thousand miles,” he says, and laughs. “Relax, Hollyberry, I’ve got my vax card and I’ll be wearing my mask the whole time I’m in the air. In fact I’m wearing one now, as you can probably tell.”
“Why New York?” But of course she knows. “Your book!”
“The editor called me last night. He said he could send the contract, or I could come and sign it today and he’d hand me a check for a hundred thousand dollars! He says that’s not the way it’s usually done, but he got the green light to make an exception. Is that crazy, or what?”
“It’s crazy and wonderful, as long as you don’t get sick.”
“According to the statistics, New York’s actually safer than our town, Hols. I can’t get there for lunch—too bad, publisher’s lunch is sort of a tradition—but he says we can get together this afternoon for burgers and a beer. My agent will be there—I’ve never even met her except for Zoom, also crazy. He said in the old days he would have taken us to Four Seasons, but the best he can manage now is the Blarney Stone. Which is good enough for me.”
He’s babbling, but Holly doesn’t mind. What she minds is the idea of him traveling on a plane where the air is recirculated and anyone might have Covid, but she can’t help being delighted by his over-the-moon happiness. Spur-of-the-moment trip to New York City in the summer of Covid, she thinks. It’s good to be young and today it’s good to be Jerome.
“Enjoy yourself, and whatever you do, don’t lose that check.”
“My agent will handle that,” he says. “Whoo, this is so far out! We’re almost at the terminal, Hollyberry.”
“Fly well and when you go to the restaurant, make sure to sit outsi—”
“Yes, Mom. One more thing while I’ve got you. I printed out a MapQuest of Deerfield Park and the surrounding area. Marked it in red where Bonnie and Pete Steinman were last seen. We don’t know about Ellen Craslow, but we know she worked on campus, so I marked the Union. Barbara can give it to you if you want. I left it on my desk.”
“I know the locations,” Holly says with some asperity. She thinks of Uncle Henry saying I didn’t fall off a skidder yesterday.
“Yeah, but seeing them like that is creepy. You should find out if there are more. We’re here. I gotta go.”
“When do you come back?”
“I might stay a couple of days or I might come back tomorrow.”
“If you’re thinking about Broadway, the shows are clo—”
“Gotta bounce, Hollyberry.” And boom, he’s gone.
“I hate it when you call me that.” But she’s smiling. Because she really doesn’t, and Jerome knows it.
2
She’s on her walk when her phone rings again. “Who’s your daddy?” Pete Huntley inquires.
“Not you, Pete. But you sound happy. Plus, not sick.”
“I have risen from the ashes of Covid a new man,” he says, then spoils it with a coughing fit. “Almost. I found your chick, Holly.”
She stops. “You found Ellen Craslow?”
“Well, not her, but I got her LKA.” Last known address. “Also her picture, which I will send to you ASAP. Called the personnel office at Bell as soon as they opened, so ain’t you proud of me?”
“Very proud. What’s the address?”
“11114 MLK Boulevard. That’s about as far out of Lowtown as you can get and still be in it.”
“Peter, thank you.”
