The voice was so disembodied. Alex repeated the message and noted the time code again. He’d clearly missed by just one or at most two minutes, which frustrated him. It must have happened while he was clearing Simon and Lucy. He ran his thumb around the keys, hunting for the missed call number, but nothing had registered. He dialed the last number service so he could phone them back, and this produced an equally obstructive result. The caller’s number was withheld. The practiced calm of the doctor came under pressure, and he recorded a new message saying he couldn’t always pick up during working hours. He left his personal extension. Would that satisfy them?

He paused to ring Calvin: he would have a contact number. But Calvin’s own number rang without answer. His thoughts ranged. He started back to alert Emma to mind his cell phone for him while he returned to surgery, and to locate him the second they rang either of the numbers—which he had no doubt they would. But then a more unpleasant idea crystallized, and he broke into a flat-out run.

“Get my father on the phone. If he’s in court, have his secretary bleep him to call me urgently.” Alex left Emma staring as he sprinted to the phone in his office. Lucy’s cell phone still went straight to voice mail: she must be in the darkroom. His voice was a studied calm that would have fooled anyone other than Amel or the woman he was calling. “When you get this, please ring my office immediately. And, Lucy, don’t open the door.” He dialed the house phone hoping she’d hear it. Nothing. His head drooped; then Emma caught his eye and shook her head at him through the glass. Her single finger raised appeared to explain Henry was unavailable for at least an hour. Without a word he stood, grabbed his coat off the door peg, then waited. He quickly swung back, threw it on the chair, and scanned the address file on his cell phone. He located a number and dialed it from his extension.

“Melissa, thank goodness. It’s Alex Stafford. Could you do something for me?”

PRINTING UP FOUR OF THE ROLLS, LUCY HAD FOUND HER DOPPELGÄNGER. A girl a shade younger than herself, she thought, with a great mane of curls billowing out over the sea in the wind. Yes, at a quick glance they were strangely similar—it made Lucy feel as though she were looking at a ghost. Another girlfriend of Will’s? She felt she recognized the face from somewhere in her dreams—but perhaps this was fanciful.