Ashley got out of the shower, dried herself and walked over to the closet. Her clothes were missing.
The only things inside the closet were a black leather miniskirt, a cheap-looking tube top
and a pair of spiked high-heeled shoes. She was repelled by the thought of putting the clothes on,
but she had no choice. She dressed quickly and glanced in the mirror.
She looked like a prostitute. “Father. I—” “What’s wrong?” “I’m in Chicago and—”
“What are you doing in Chicago?” “I can’t go into it now. I need an airline ticket to San Jose.”
I don’t have any money with me. Can you help me?” “Of course. Hold on....
There’s an American Airlines plane leaving O’Hare at ten-forty a.m., Flight 407.
There will be a ticket waiting for you at the check-in counter.”
Alette, can you hear me? Alette.“I’m here. Dr. Keller. I want us to talk about Richard Melton.
He was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?“Yes. He was very... simpatico. I was in love with him.”
“Was he in love with you?” “I think so, yes. He was an artist.”
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