As she stared at the stars, which normally weren’t so visible above Manhattan, she started to sing. One line of a song. What she didn’t know was that when she tossed Chip’s phone to the ground, the redial button had been activated.

Chip’s parents were hurrying out the door when their phone rang. They both raced back inside. His mother ran to the kitchen and his father to the living room. “It’s Chip,” his mother screamed when she saw the number on the caller ID. She and her husband answered at once.

“Hello, Chip!” they cried, their voices hopeful. “Chip!”

But there was no response. All they could hear was the faint sound of a woman singing.

“Chip!” they called. “Chip, please talk to us!”

A puzzled expression came over Georgina’s face. “What is that noise?” she muttered, then glanced over at Chip’s phone. Picking it up and holding it to her ear, she could hear a man and a woman speaking into the phone.

“Chip, this is Mom—and Dad. Where are you?”

Georgina pressed the disconnect button. Now she was really angry. Those were two people who would never approve of her. She was sure of it. They wouldn’t be inviting her to Maine for a nice long weekend of lobster and white wine. “He’s here,” she said aloud as she made sure the phone was switched off. “But he can’t talk to you right now.” She then laughed bitterly. “He may never talk to you again.”

She lay back down and resumed smoking her cigarette. It made her feel a little bit better. Life was so unfair, she thought. I’ve never gotten a break. Not like this privileged brat lying next to me. He has two parents who love him. The sound of their worried voices made her so angry. No one on this planet feels that way about me, she thought.

Chip was in a dead sleep. He was so quiet and still, she leaned over to make sure he was breathing.

He was.

37

T he crowd of young people outside Lonnie’s bar was growing by the minute. Phil had gone inside to make the announcement about forming a search party, and the bar had practically emptied out. Almost everyone was on a cell phone, trying to get in touch with friends, asking them to come down from their apartments and bring flashlights.

“When something like this happens we all realize it could have easily been one of us,” a petite girl with a dark tan said quietly to Regan. “I feel terrible. It’s just usually a girl who disappears, not a guy.”

“I know,” Regan said. She called out to the crowd. “If everyone could listen for a minute. First of all, we really appreciate your help. Chip Jones’s parents are on their way down from Maine and they are frantic. The bartender here at Lonnie’s, Josh Gaspero, offered to stay open so we can use the bar as a base. I know cell phone service is spotty. But please take the number of the landline at the bar and try to periodically check in. Josh will be notified right away if there is any news. Also be sure to get my number and Phil’s number. We want to pass the word as quickly as possible if there are any developments. Write your names and numbers on the sheet of paper Josh has at the bar so that we can keep track of everyone. You know we have to look in isolated areas, so please, don’t walk around alone. Break up into groups.”