“There are seven or eight of us who will go into Central Park together,” one guy called out.

“Great,” Regan said. “I think a good plan would be for the rest of you to focus on the Upper East Side. Go down by the river and Carl Schurz Park. If any of your friends show up with cars, you can fan out to other areas.” Regan’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me. I think it’s Chip’s parents,” she said. She turned away and answered.

“Regan, someone just called from Chip’s cell phone,” Chris Jones said, his voice clipped. Regan could hear Sue crying on the extension.

“What did they say?”

“All we could hear was a woman singing, almost to herself. Then she stopped. A moment later the phone was disconnected. We tried to call back and it went right to his voice mail.”

“Singing? What was she singing?”

“Only the good die young,” Sue answered, her voice hysterical. “She kept singing that one line over and over.”

Regan’s heart skipped a beat. “Could you hear anything else in the background?”

“I think I heard a car honk its horn. There was also the distant sound of a police siren.”

“You think they were calling from outside?”

“Either that or they were sitting next to an open window. Why would someone do this to us?” Sue demanded. “Why would she taunt us like that? How would she even know our number?”

“Chip probably has it programmed in his phone,” Regan answered. “You said you spoke to him tonight. Did you call him?”

“Yes,” Sue answered. “We called him as soon as we heard about the blackout.”

“But, honey, remember, he called us back because the connection was bad,” Chris reminded her.

“If that was the case, and you were the last one he called, his phone might have accidentally hit redial. Does he have one of those high tech phones that don’t fold over?

“Yes.”

“A friend of mine recently ended up with a conversation recorded on her answering machine that the person who left it certainly never intended her to hear. He had just left her a message and didn’t realize it when his phone hit redial. The same thing could have happened here.”

“But his phone had been turned off. And why was she singing that song?” Sue demanded.

“I don’t know but I’ll call the detective in Atlanta who has Georgina’s friend in custody. This friend is willing to give any information she can to save her own skin. Maybe this song will have some significance. We’re trying to figure out if there’s someplace in the city that has special meaning to Georgina where she may have gone.”

“If she has his phone and he didn’t talk to us, it must mean that he’s already drugged—” Sue began.

“Don’t go there,” Regan warned her. “We have a lot of people about to hit the streets looking for your son, and the police have been notified.”

“We’re getting in the car now,” Chris said quickly. “I’m putting our phone on call forwarding in case they call back. Keep in touch with us. Regan, please find him.”