“I’ll put out the word for patrol cars in that area to be especially vigilant,” Jack said. “They’re dealing with a lot of problems tonight, but I emphasized this was important.” He paused. “And you’ll never believe where I’m headed.”

Regan listened as he told her of Wally’s saga.

“He’s waiting for me on a footpath next to the West Side Highway while he nurses a bloody nose. If he really has the gallery’s stolen sculptures, I’ll be tempted to kiss his nose to make it better. We’ll have to give the contractor a bonus no matter how our apartment turns out.”

“While they’re scouting for the thief along the Hudson River, make sure they keep an eye out for Georgina and Chip. I’m afraid they could be anywhere in this city.”

“I know, Regan,” Jack said. “I’ll join you as soon as I get free.”

Regan hung up and put the car into drive. Her cell phone rang before she’d driven ten feet. Quickly she answered.

“Regan, it’s Becky. You know, from the comedy club, Larry’s Laughs. I’m at a bar, and I just met Chip Jones’s roommate.”

“His roommate?” Regan asked, astonished.

“Yes! He was leaving. I’ve been so worried about Chip Jones that I just blurted out, ‘You don’t know a Chip Jones, do you?’ He said yes! Chip’s family has been trying to reach him tonight, but he’s not answering his cell phone.”

“Is his roommate still there?”

“Yes.”

“Ask him what college Chip attended.”

“Just a sec…Chairsworth.”

“Where are you?”

“At Lonnie’s on Eighty-eighth and Second.”

“We’re a couple blocks away. Come outside if you would.”

Two minutes later, Regan double-parked in front of the bar. Becky was standing on the sidewalk with two young girls who seemed to be her age and a guy who was presumably Chip’s roommate. All four occupants of Regan’s car scrambled to get out.

“I’m not waiting in here this time,” Kit mumbled as she grabbed her crutches. “Me, neither,” Billy said as he grabbed her elbow.

Becky made the introductions.

Regan quickly went over everything they’d learned about Georgina, as she handed Phil the ring. He looked distraught. “That’s his. Chip told me he wanted to sign up for a comedy class. He made me promise not to tell anyone.” He paused for a moment. “Over the years, he’s had asthma and sometimes uses an inhaler. He’s big and pretty strong but has had respiratory problems. It’s bad enough that this wacko could scar him for life, but I’m worried about those knockout drops. If she abandons him—it’s already so hard to breathe with this heat and humidity…” His voice trailed off.

“I understand,” Regan said sympathetically. “We all have to work quickly to find them. We know they were at Sammy’s, a bar on Eighty-sixth Street near Third Avenue at some point tonight. It was probably not that long ago. So they may not be far from here. Of course they could be anywhere if they caught a cab or a car service.”