“To whom?”
“Well-connected friends. I wanted to make sure we have the absolute best doctors on this.”
“And?” he asked.
“And we do. Fill me in on your visit to the inn.”
He did. When he finished, Yvonne simply said, “Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“So where do you go next?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Yeah, you are,” Yvonne said.
She knew him too well.
“Something at that college changed Paige,” he said.
“I agree. Simon?”
“Yes.”
“Call me in three hours. I want to know you arrived at Lanford safely.”
Chapter Nineteen
That weekend,” Eileen Vaughan told Simon, “Paige borrowed my car.”
They sat in the four-person common room with cathedral ceiling. The dorm’s oversized bay window looked out over a Lanford College quad dripping so green it might as well have been a still-wet painting. Eileen Vaughan had been Paige’s freshman-year roommate. On Paige’s first day of college, when Simon, Ingrid, Sam, and Anya had all brought her to this campus brimming with hope, Eileen Vaughan had been the first to greet them. Eileen was smart and friendly and on the surface, at least, seemed to be the perfect roommate. Simon had taken her phone number, “just in case,” for emergency purposes only, which is why he still had it now.
Simon and Ingrid had left Lanford College that day on such a high. Squinting into the campus sun, they’d held hands as they walked back to the car, even as Sam grumbled about his parents’ “gross PDA” (Public Display of Affection) and Anya scoffed out an “Ugh, can you not?” Back in the car, Simon had reminisced about his own college years, how he’d lived in a four-person suite like the one he was in now — but not like this one. Simon’s had been littered with empty pizza boxes and emptier beer cans, decorated in Early American Pub Crawl, while Eileen Vaughan’s suite looked like something out of an Ikea catalogue, all pale woods and real furniture and freshly-vacuumed throw carpets. There was nothing ironic or college-y on the walls, no decorative bongs or Che posters or heck, posters of any kind, favoring instead handcrafted tapestries with mild Buddhist designs or geometric patterns. The whole effect was less true collegiate and more model showroom, the dorm you use to sway prospective students (and more, their parents) during campus visits.
“Had Paige ever done that before?” Simon asked Eileen.
“Borrowed my car? Never. She told me she didn’t like to drive.”
It was more than that, Simon thought. Paige didn’t know how to drive. Not really. She’d managed to get her license after taking lessons from a driving school in Fort Lee, but because they lived in Manhattan, she never drove.
“You know how Paige was,” Eileen continued, not realizing how the “was” rather than “is” struck him deep in the chest. It was appropriate, of course — Paige was a “was” in terms of this campus and probably Eileen’s life, but as he looked at this lovely, healthy-looking girl — yes, he should call her a woman, but right now he only saw Eileen as a girl, a girl like his daughter — there was a deep, heavy thud in his heart reminding him that his daughter should be there, occupying one of the suite’s four bedrooms with a box spring on the floor and a desk with a gooseneck lamp.
Eileen said, “Even if Paige had to get something at the supermarket or CVS, she’d ask me to drive instead.”
“So you must have been surprised when Paige asked to borrow the car.”
Eileen wore jeans and a dark gray cable-knit sweater with a turtle neck. Her long reddish hair was parted in the middle and hung down behind her shoulders. Her eyes were big and indigo blue and she just reeked of youth and college and possibilities, and it killed him.
Her voice was hesitant. “It did.”
“You seem unsure.”
“Can I ask you something, Mr. Greene?”
He was going to correct her and tell her to call him Simon, but the formality felt somehow right here. She was his daughter’s friend. He was asking about his daughter.
“Of course.”
“Why now?”
“Pardon?”
“This was a long time ago. What happened with Paige... I know I agreed to see you, but this wasn’t really easy for me either.”
“What wasn’t easy?”
“What happened with Paige. Here, I mean. At Lanford. We had that small room, the two of us, and, I don’t know, we connected. She was my best friend right away. I’m an only child. I don’t want to make too much of this, but Paige was like a sister to me. And then...”
Eileen had been hurt and she’d recovered and now Simon was ripping open the stitches. He felt bad about that, but Eileen was young, and thirty minutes after he walked out the door, she’d go to a class or one of her roommates would get her for dinner in the Cushman Cafeteria and then they’d study at the Elders Library and probably hit a dorm party — and those “wounds” would be back sealed up tight.
“What happened?” Simon asked.
“Paige changed.”
No hesitation.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He tried to think how to approach this. “When?”
“It was toward the end of first semester.”
“After this trip with your car?”
“Yes. Well, no. Something was off even before then.”
Simon leaned forward a little, making sure to keep away from her personal space. “How long before?”
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember. It’s just that...”
He nodded for her to go on.
“When Paige asked to borrow the car, I remember feeling weird about it. Not just because it was out of character. But because she’d been distant lately.”
“Any idea why?”
“No. I was hurt. I was maybe a little angry with her about it.” Eileen looked up. “I should have reached out to her instead, you know? Instead of getting all hurt about it. Making it all about me. Maybe if I had been a good friend—”
“None of this is on you, Eileen.”
She didn’t seem convinced.
“Could Paige have been taking drugs?” Simon asked.
“You mean before she met Aaron?”
“One theory is that Paige was doing drugs already — so Aaron might have been a source or something.”
Eileen considered that. “I don’t think so. For one thing, I know this is a college campus and drugs are supposed to be rampant. But that’s not really how it is here. I wouldn’t even know where to buy anything stronger than weed.”
“Maybe that was it,” Simon said.
“What?”
“Maybe Paige wanted to buy something stronger.”
“So she went to Aaron?”
“That’s one theory.”
Eileen wasn’t buying it. “Paige didn’t even smoke weed. I don’t mean to make her sound like some kind of priss. She drank and stuff, but I never saw her stoned before or high or whatever you want to call it. The first time I saw her like that was after she met Aaron.”
“So it comes back to the same thing,” Simon said. “Why did Paige borrow your car? Why did she drive to this quiet corner of Connecticut?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You said she was different.”
“Yes.”
“How about her other friends?”
“I think...” Her gaze traveled up and to the left. “Yes, looking back on it, I think Paige just kind of withdrew. From all of us. One of our friends, Judy Zyskind — do you know her?”
“No.”
“Judy’s one of my suitemates now. She’s at a lacrosse game at Bowdoin or I’d ask her to explain. Anyway, I don’t think this is it, but Judy thought maybe something had happened to her at a frat party.”
Simon felt a cold jolt run through him. “What do you mean, ‘happened to her’?”