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had to talk about.
    She went back to her car and
watched the movements of the people downstream. As the sun rose, the shadowy
figures slowly resolved themselves into men moving along the creek banks,
people in boats, and figures in scuba gear. Her phone rang several times. She
ignored it. A helicopter circled overhead. Gradually, the searchers moved
downstream, farther way from her. She wondered what they would do when they
reached the point where Deep Creek emptied into Humbolt Lake. It wasn’t that
far away. Less than a mile. Would they stop then? Zoe thought a complete search
of the massive lake would be nearly impossible. The people receded in front of
her almost as if they were being carried downstream, becoming smaller and
harder to see. There was no change in their movements, no excited calls or
hurried gestures.
    She decided to leave when a tow
truck rumbled up and parked in front of Jack’s Honda. She couldn’t watch
anymore. She stopped and talked to an officer. She showed him her I.D. and told
him she was Jack’s next of kin. Zoe wondered how she could feel so numb and
detached and yet almost achy at the same time. She told him if they needed to
tow the car, they could take it to her house. She found her card from the auto
service that Jack had insisted that they have.
    Amazingly, it was something she’d
kept up even after the divorce. Not her normal style, which was more haphazard,
but the annual bill had arrived at a time when she had a little extra cash and
renewing it seemed like the smart, responsible thing to do. The tow truck
driver said something about impound, so she shrugged and went back to the
Jetta. She pulled away from the busy scene, not really caring where the car was
towed. She would sort it out later.
    She drove aimlessly for an hour,
until the sun was completely over the horizon and the roads became impossibly
clogged with traffic. She pulled into a 7-11 and bought a coffee. It was too
hot to drink, so she held it in her hands, staring at the dashboard. She needed
to call Sharon and Connor. She took a cautious sip of the coffee. It was bitter
and burned her tongue. She put the coffee down and picked up her phone. Five
phone calls and seven text messages from Helen. Yep, she was upset.
    Without listening to the messages
or reading the texts, she sent a text to Helen. “I’m fine. Will call later. GO
TO WORK!” Zoe hit send. Next, she brought up the number for the GRS office, but
stopped before dialing. It was too early, and this wasn’t a conversation to
have on the phone. As much as she disliked Connor, she should go there and tell
him face-to-face what had happened.
    It was a few minutes after eight
when Zoe pulled into the parking lot of the office complex, thinking of the day
she’d met Jack. He and Connor looked at one of the office suites she owned. The
suites shared the same middle wall, and the layouts mirrored each other. Each
suite had two separate offices as well as a reception area. She’d rented the
suite on the left to an accountant with the unlikely name of Kiki. Jack and
Connor had been looking at the suite on the right. They had been running their
business out of Connor’s apartment, but it was doing so well they were looking
for office space.
    Connor had white blond hair, a
perfectly tailored suit, was thin to the point of gauntness, and hypercritical.
The carpets weren’t clean enough, the rooms were too small, and the location
was too far away from downtown. He was at least six-five, and he’d looked down
his long, sloping nose at her the whole time. Jack, on the other hand, had an
upbeat personality and thick, dark brown hair with a bit of a wave to it, and
blue, blue eyes. He was all optimistic excitement. The office was fine. Exactly
the right size for a start-up and the location was the best part—they wouldn’t
have to fight the traffic. He’d smiled widely and said, “It’s great. We’ll take
it.”
    She shook her head to banish those
images. So much