Dateline: Atlantis by Lynn Voedisch Read Free Book Online Page A

picking up hundreds of vacationers in his job.
    â€œSo, I cut him off,” Amaryllis says, feeling a bit astonished at her own action. “I gave Garret a little kick and told the cabbie it was a business trip, and we weren’t supposed to discuss it.”
    â€œWell, I bet that got his radar up,” Fiona answers. She’s still bouncing the sandal.
    â€œInstead of being offended, the cab driver seemed extremely pleased, as if I had confirmed something.”
    â€œOh, Lord. Did the bloke have a little radio in his ear, black suit…?” This is Fiona’s idea of a joke, but her eyes emit no sparkle. She still looks worried.
    â€œNo, no. He looked like, like anybody. But his bearing, the questions, it was all out of context.” She ponders the situation a little more and remembers the cabbie taking special note of which bungalow Garret lived in. “He even asked if he lived alone.” And, then, there was a minivan behind them. It stopped a few streets back from Garret’s bungalow, then pulled out again when the cab started for her home in West Hollywood. Amaryllis gives herself a start as another memory comes pouring out.
    â€œThe driver wanted to help me with my bags and asked what apartment to bring them to.” She covers her hand with her mouth after blurting this out, realizing how she was being stalked. She never caught on at the time.
    â€œWell, did you tell him?”
    â€œNo, no, I told him to leave it all alone. But my name was all over the baggage, as easy to read as a neon sign. I’m sure he read it, right along with my apartment number. I told him not to take the bags and went off on my own.”
    â€œDid he know you were going to work afterward?”
    Amaryllis thunks herself on the head. “Garret said to me that he was going to get the photos processed. He said it quietly in the back seat. And I replied that I was going right to work. I don’t think anyone could have heard.”
    â€œUnless the cab was bugged.”
    Amaryllis’ stomach drops. “Unless it was bugged.” She has never felt like such a bungler in her entire career. “Or if the driver was using one of those hearing enhancers.”
    â€œYou two were like goldfish in a shark tank,” Fiona says, nodding her head with certainty. She leans forward and pats Amaryllis on the knee with her freckled hand. “Listen, lovey, I wouldn’t quit my job over this. I’d stick around and see what becomes of the missing-person case. But, for Lord’s sake, be more careful of who you talk to.”
    â€œ I’m talking and I can’t shut up,” Amaryllis says, throwing up her hands. Then Fiona rockets to her feet, grabs some sheets from the hall closet and makes up a bed on her spare futon. All the while, her Irish accent lulls her friend into a sleepy state of mind.
    â€œI’d worry about you if you went home with all those bad blokes lurking about,” Fiona says as she tucks in the last, hospital-neat corner of the futon.
    â€œWell, I might as well put a Welcome mat outside the front door,” Amaryllis says. “It looks so easy to pick my locks, they might as well tote away all my boxes of junk, too.” Amaryllis is not eager to go home tonight. Not after the burglary and Garret being snatched away in the night.
    As she snuggles into the floral-scented sheets, Amaryllis thinks of how much nicer Fiona’s apartment is than her own. But as comfortable as the surroundings are, she fidgets. Instead, her mind is speeding from subject to subject, first focusing on herself in Mexico, then imagining scenes of Garret tied up in a mobster’s trunk, then alighting on thoughts of faceless villains burglarizing her apartment. Her poor apartment. Newspapers pile high on the dining room table. A file cabinet bulges with folders full of useless paper—receipts and insurance forms she should have tossed with her last move.
    She rolls over