Missing Marlene Read Free Page A

Jane force the publisher to make good.
    After Roger left, Jane phoned his editor, Arliss Krauss, who with characteristic bluntness informed Jane that A Better Place was dying in the stores and that Millennium had no intention of throwing good money after bad by promoting it. Or by publishing Roger again.
    Jane had hung up in shock, confounded as to how to break this devastating news to poor Roger.
    Motionless behind his desk, Daniel was watching her. “So ... what did Arliss say?”
    “The book’s dead. The returns are already flooding in. They’ll probably get back more copies than they shipped.”
    Daniel looked outraged. “Well, they haven’t done much for it. I thought they planned a big—”
    “Push, that’s right, a big push. Forget it. Not after they got those low advance orders. But you haven’t heard the worst of it. They’re dropping Roger.”
    Daniel just stared. The phone rang, and he shook himself from his amazement and answered it. “Jane Stuart Literary Agency. . . . Oh, yes, Roger. . . . Yes, she’s just come in. Let me see if she’s free.” He pressed hold and raised his thin brows in inquiry.
    Jane regarded him briefly, then sighed. “All right.” She took the receiver. “ ‘Morning, Roger,” she said with forced cheerfulness.
    “Did you speak to Arliss?” Roger’s gravelly tones were anything but cheerful.
    “Yes. It’s not good.”
    “What did she say?”
    “Can you come in? We need to talk.”
    “Not today, no. I have an appointment in New York.” He sounded irritated. “Don’t be coy, Jane. Just tell me.”
    “No, I want to see you. How about breakfast tomorrow?”
    “All right, fine. Meet me at Whipped Cream at ten.”
    She handed the receiver back to Daniel.
    “Is he going to rewrite the book?” he asked, obviously already thinking ahead to the process of finding Roger a new publisher.
    “He will if he wants a career.... This is the last thing I need right now.”
    “Did you find Marlene?”
    “Sure didn’t. She’s gone.”
    “Gone?”
    “Yup. Flown the coop. Without even a ‘Dear Jane’ letter.”
    “But why?”
    “Guess she disliked us as much as we disliked her. I can’t ask her, ‘cause I don’t know where she is.”
    “How did she leave?”
    “Good question. The car she used was in the driveway. So she either called a cab or got a ride.”
    “To where?”
    “No idea. Her mother thinks she’s with a friend from Detroit who came out here at the same time Marlene did. Girl named Zena. She’s in New York.”
    “So you think someone gave Marlene a ride to Zena’s?”
    “Maybe. Maybe Zena herself. We don’t know.”
    “Did you call Zena?”
    “Not yet. Ivy’s getting her number.”
    “How do you know Marlene isn’t with someone else?”
    “I don’t. Trouble is, I don’t know any of her friends. She never talked about them. I don’t even know where she went all those late nights.”
    Daniel gave her a funny look. She knew what he was thinking: Jane should have made it her business to know what Marlene was up to, where she went. And he was right. Jane had owed the girl at least that. After all, Marlene was the daughter of Jane’s oldest friend, Jane’s responsibility.
    “She hung out at the Roadside Tavern,” Daniel said.
    She looked at him, nonplussed. “How the hell do you know that?”
    “She told me.”
    “When?”
    “At your party.”
    Three weeks ago Jane had thrown a party to celebrate the publication of A Better Place. Her home had been the perfect venue for the party, because three weeks earlier Roger had moved from his New York apartment to a rented bungalow Jane had been only too happy to find for him in Shady Hills, only half a mile from her house.
    Roger said he had fallen in love with the village during his visits to Jane’s office. He told Jane the peace and quiet would help his writing. And since Shady Hills was only twenty-five miles due west of New York, he could still pop into the city whenever he had to.
    Jane