I caught the subway alone and climbed the stairs to my apartment, more tired than ever. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Jesse. And Phillip. If Jesse came back—he must come back—they could meet. Maybe tonight after the bars closed, Jesse and I could talk. Maybe after dinner and exercises. Maybe, maybe. We wouldn’t have to make love, just hold each other. I promised this time. The wallet papers on the counter top drew me away from the floor exercises and yoga. I flipped through the business cards, the coupons for reductions on food and dance tights, someone’s telephone number with instructions to call only after 7:00 p.m. Then a tongue of envelope with its glue dried and cracking: West Street, Pier 52.

Just then the phone rang. A white man’s voice. “Mr. Durand, please. Detective Stone here.”

“No,” I said in my best receptionist voice and holding the tongue of envelope with the pier address. “He isn’t in. May I take a message?”

“Do you know where he is? You know if I can reach him someplace?”

“No, I’m sorry, Detective. This is Ruella. May I help you? Is this about the Barthé case?” I fingered the tongue of envelope again, the dry glue flaking off on my fingers, and I wasn’t even biting my nails.

“Have him call me as soon as he gets in, please. We have a suspect. Someone found in the area. They say he was walking in circles. Lying on the ground nude. The neighbors called us right away.”

“Walking in circles?”

“Yes. Right on the street where they attacked him.”

“Jesse?”

“No, Barthé, Miss McPhee.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a little off today. I’ll tell Jesse to call you as soon as he gets in.”

“I hope so. Good-bye, Miss McPhee.”

“Ruella.”

“Yes, Ruella. Good-bye.”

He hung up and I read the envelope again. Then in careful folds, one atop the other, I put it by the phone and went to bed.

The next morning the regular secretary couldn’t come in, so I had to work all day. I missed dance class again but went there to ask again if Jesse had been there. No one had seen him. The company instructor was a little worried. By this time he knew we were friends and told me Jesse had to show more dedication if he wanted to join the company. “More discipline, too,” he said.

“And me? What about me?” I asked.

“I think I can use you both. We’ll see at the auditions.”

From the hallway of my building I heard my telephone ring and I bounded up the stairs. After fumbling with my keys I answered what was sure to be the last ring. Detective Stone again. His voice was decisive, but he was worried that Jesse still wasn’t there.

“You don’t think he’s gone off looking for those guys?”