Vanish in an Instant Read Free Page A

nodded her thanks. “Carney, this is Alice Dwyer. Alice, Mrs. Carnova.”
    The woman shook Alice’s hand vigorously. “Call me Carney. Everyone does.”
    â€œCarney,” Mrs. Hamilton explained, “is Paul’s office nurse, and an old friend of mine.”
    â€œHe phoned from the hospital a few minutes ago. He’s on his way.”
    â€œWe are old friends, aren’t we, Carney?”
    The coins on the woman’s cheekbones expanded. “Sure. You bet we are.”
    â€œThen what are you acting so nervous about?”
    â€œNervous? Well, everybody gets nervous once in a while, don’t they? I’ve had a busy day and I stayed after hours to welcome you, see that you got settled, and so forth. I’m tired, is all.”
    â€œIs it?”
    The two women had forgotten Alice. Carney was look­ing down at the floor, and the color had radiated all over her face to the tops of her large pale ears. “Why did you come? You can’t do anything.”
    â€œI can. I’m going to.”
    â€œYou don’t know how things are.”
    â€œThen tell me.”
    â€œThis is bad, the worst yet. I knew she was seeing Margolis. I warned her. I said I’d write and tell you and you’d come and make it hot for her.”
    â€œYou didn’t tell me.”
    Carney spread her hands. “How could I? She’s twenty- six; that’s too old to be kept in line by threats of telling mama.”
    â€œDid Paul know about this—this man?”
    â€œI’m not sure. Maybe he did. He never said anything.” She plucked a dried leaf from the yam plant that was grow­ing down from the mantel. “Virginia won’t listen to me any more. She doesn’t like me.”
    â€œThat’s silly. She’s always been devoted to you.”
    â€œNot any more. Last week she called me a snooping old beerhound. She said that when I applied for this job it wasn’t because Carnova had left me stranded in Detroit, it was because you sent me here to spy on her.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous,” Mrs. Hamilton said crisply. “I’ll talk to Virginia tomorrow and see that she apologizes.”
    â€œ Apologizes . What do you think this is, some little game or something? Oh, God.” Carney exploded. She covered her face with her hands, half-laughing, half-crying and then she began to hiccough, loud and fast. “Oh—damn—oh—damn.”
    Mrs. Hamilton turned to Alice. “We all need some rest. Come and I’ll show you your room.”
    â€˜â€˜I’ll—show—her.’’
    â€œAll right. You go with Carney, Alice. I’ll wait up to say hello to Paul.”
    Alice looked embarrassed. “I hated to stand there listen­ing like that. About Virginia, I mean.”
    â€œThat’s all right, you couldn’t help it.” A car came up the driveway and stopped with a shriek of brakes. “Here’s Paul now. I’ll talk to him alone, Carney, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œWhy—should—I—mind?”
    â€œAnd for heaven’s sake breathe into a paper bag or some­thing. Good night.”
    When they had gone Mrs. Hamilton stood in the center of the room for a moment, her fingertips pressing her tem­ples, her eyes closed. She felt exhausted, not from the sleep­less night she had spent, or from the plane trip, but from the strain of uncertainty, and the more terrible strain of pretending that everything would be all right, that a mis­take had been made which could be rather easily corrected.
    She went to open the door for Paul.
    He came in, stamping the snow from his boots, a stocky, powerfully built man in a wrinkled trench coat and a damp shapeless gray hat. He looked like a red-cheeked farmercoming in from his evening’s chores, carrying a medical bag instead of a lantern.
    He had a folded newspaper under his arm. Mrs. Hamil­ton glanced at the