Page 13 of Finding Amanda

"I was sitting in the lobby. We talked."

"Oh, honey, you must've been terrified. Are you all right?"

Her eyes stung with tears. She squeezed them shut until they stopped burning. Why was Mark being so nice? She'd expected anger, not kindness. "I guess. He wanted to know whathappened to me, and I told him . . . I wasn't sure what to say, so I told him I'd met somebody else."

"How'd he take it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. But he saw my name tag. He?—"

"Your name tag? So he knows how to find you?"

"He knows my pen name, he knows my last name is Johnson, yeah. But not your name." She turned the name tag and looked at it. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"I forgot. Everyone's name tag says where they're from."

"Just Massachusetts, or . . . ?"

"It says Norwell."

He muttered something she couldn't make out and then spoke into the phone again. "You think he'll try to find you?"

She remembered his final words as they ascended the escalator.See you soon."Yes."

Mark must've read something in her voice. "And?"

She swallowed. "He sort of asked me about the memoir?—"

A flash of movement. Amanda looked up in time to see Alan dart across the small space. "He's coming."

"Who was that?" Mark asked.

Her heart pounded as Alan rushed toward her. "Up the escalator?"

"Come on." Alan grabbed her bag in one hand, her arm in the other, and pulled her across the corridor. He yanked open a door and pushed her into a small conference room. Long, thin tables were set up in rows , chairs lining the backs of each. Alan threw her bag on a table.

"Stay here. I'll get rid of him," he said.

"What's happening?" Mark's voice was demanding and frightened.

"Gabriel's coming up the escalator, and Alan?—"

"Who's Alan? What's going on?"

Her voice wobbled. "He helped me get away from Gabriel."

Mark must've heard her fear. He softened his tone again. "I'm sorry. I wish I were there."

She did, too. In a blink, she imagined her husband beside her, his arms wrapped around her. Mark wouldn't let Gabriel near her. In fact, Gabriel wouldn't dare approach if Mark were at her side.

"I need to speak with her for a moment." Gabriel's voice filtered through the closed door, sending a vibration of fear through her, as if he'd plucked a guitar string along the length of her spine.

She scanned the room. A door near the front warned her it was forauthorized personnel only. But if she had to escape, she wouldn't hesitate. She grabbed her bag and took a couple of steps toward the door so she could hear better.

"She doesn't want to see you," Alan said.

"Mandy?" Mark said. "Are you?—?"

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