On Borrowed Time by David Rosenfelt Read Free Book Online

get any more specific?”
    “You said you couldn’t talk more about it yet, but that it had the potential to be Pulitzer territory.”
    Craig was not prone to hyperbole or inaccuracy. We must have had the conversation exactly as he was describing it, yet as momentous as it sounded, I had no recollection of it at all.
    “Shit. I just don’t remember.”
    “Richard, I’m here if you need me. For anything. No charge; not for you personally.” The concern was evident in his voice.
    “Thanks, I appreciate that. Craig, you can track an e-mail address, right? You can find out whose it is, and where they live?”
    “Sure. You got it now?”
    I debated with myself for a moment, but then decided to wait. “Maybe tomorrow,” I said, and got off the phone, even more worried than I had been before. I was remembering things that everyone else said had never happened, and I was completely forgetting that which clearly did happen. For me to fail to recall something that I thought could win me a Pulitzer was incomprehensible, yet I obviously had.
    Was I losing my mind?

 
    I watched and listened to the phone not ring until three P.M .
    At that point I had to get out of the apartment, even for a couple of minutes, so I went down and got the mail.
    When I first got back from the nightmare in Ardmore, checking the mail was something I looked forward to, in the vain hope that I would receive something that would yield some clue about Jen, some proof of her existence.
    Once the magazine article ran, getting the mail became a form of torture, as I received literally thousands of letters either wishing me well, mocking me, or providing some form of unproductive tip or piece of information about Jen’s whereabouts. I forced myself to read each one, though most of them I discarded before finishing the first couple of sentences.
    The number of such letters had started to trail off, but this time there were still at least thirty, intermingled with bills and catalogs. It would give me something to do while praying for Jen’s sister to call.
    As I opened the door to my apartment, I heard the phone. I dropped the mail on the floor and ran to answer it. I got it on the third ring, or at least the third ring that I heard. I don’t know how many rings there were before I entered the apartment, but I was in a state of panic that I might be too late.
    “Hello?”
    “Mr. Kilmer, my name is Allison Tynes. I called you last night, and sent you the e-mail, and…”
    “Yes … Allison … thank you for calling. The photograph is Jen; I’m sure of it.”
    I could hear the relief in her voice. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I was so afraid I was wrong. I was hoping that’s what your e-mail meant, but I put off calling you today because I was scared of what you might say.”
    “Where is she?”
    “She’s missing. She moved out to California, but disappeared on the way. The police have it as a missing persons case, but haven’t come up with anything.”
    “I have so many questions; can we meet and talk?”
    “Of course. When?” she asked.
    “When? Soon. Now. Right now.”
    “That won’t be possible,” she said. “I’m in Wisconsin. That’s where I live. That’s where Julie was from.”
    “Julie?”
    “Yes. That’s her real name. That’s your Jennifer’s real name.”
    It took a moment for me to digest this, before I told her I would fly out to see her the next morning.
    “No,” she said. “I’ll come to New York. I already have my ticket. I was hoping to have a reason to use it.”
    I told her I would pick her up at the airport, and she agreed, and gave me her flight number.
    “Mr. Kilmer…,” she said hesitantly, nervously.
    “Call me Richard, please.”
    “Richard, I just wanted to tell you something, for when you see me. Just so you won’t be surprised.”
    “What is it?”
    “Julie and I … we’re twins. Identical twins.”
    I thanked her for alerting me to this, and when we got off the phone I started mentally