Read Online Past Tense by William G. Tapply - Free Book Online Page A

“It’s important. Call me when you get in.”
    I had nonstop meetings with clients scheduled for the morning, so I went out to the reception area and told Julie that if Evie called, she should interrupt me, that I absolutely needed to talk with her.
    Julie frowned at me. “What’s going on, Brady?”
    I had told Julie all about the events of the previous weekend. I always told Julie everything. “I can’t get ahold of her,” I said. “It’s starting to look like the police think she killed that man, and she’s avoiding them, too. It makes her look guilty. Actually, I’m a little worried.”
    â€œYou think something’s happened to her?”
    I shrugged.
    â€œYou don’t think she actually could have—”
    â€œNo,” I said quickly. “Not Evie. Evie couldn’t kill anybody.” I shook my head. “I guess I just don’t know. Truthfully, I don’t know what to think.”
    â€œShe’s mad at you,” said Julie. “I don’t blame her. You’re easy to get mad at.”
    â€œYeah, well, in this case—”
    â€œBrady, for heaven’s sake, think about it. She found the body of that man who’d been stalking her. If that’s not bad enough, then she gets interrogated by the police for hours. What should she expect from her best friend, her lover, her—her rock?”
    â€œI thought I was quite supportive.”
    â€œSupportive?” Julie rolled her pretty blue eyes. “You’ve got to do better than supportive , Brady Coyne.” She pronounced
the word “supportive” as if it meant a disgusting animal waste product. “I bet you were all lawyerly and rational, eager to discuss the facts of the case, ponder evidence, devise strategies. Am I right?”
    â€œI had it in the back of my mind that she might’ve done it,” I said. “But I didn’t say that to her.”
    â€œGod!” She shook her head. “If you think she didn’t pick up on that, you understand women even less than I thought.”
    â€œWell, whatever,” I said. “At this point, I need to advise her.”
    â€œYou,” said Julie, “are the last person she wants advice from. Any half-assed lawyer can give advice. From her lover, all a woman wants is unconditional love and understanding and sympathy.”
    â€œAre you calling me a half-assed lawyer?”
    She rolled her eyes.
    I sighed. “You’re a woman,” I said. “You should know. I guess you’re right. So what’m I supposed to do?”
    â€œKeep trying,” she said. “Women appreciate persistence. Shower her with messages. Tell her you love her, you miss her, you’re miserable, you can’t stand it, not talking with her is driving you crazy.”
    â€œThat’s all true,” I said.
    â€œIs it so hard to say, then?”
    I smiled. “No. I can say it.” I leaned across Julie’s desk and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”
    She pointed to my office. “Do it.”
    So I went back into my office and left messages of love and misery on both Evie’s home answering machine and her office voice mail.
    After I ushered my last client of the morning out of my office around one o’clock that afternoon, I arched my eyebrows at Julie.

    She shook her head.
    â€œEvie didn’t call, huh?”
    â€œNo,” she said.
    So I went back into my office and called Marcus Bluestein. Bluestein was the administrator at Emerson Hospital, Evie’s boss, the man who’d hired her. He was a big, shambling man with jug ears and a hook nose and unruly gray hair and gentle brown eyes. He was Evie’s confidant, just as Julie was mine. I figured I could convince Bluestein to intercede for me.
    When he picked up the phone, I said, “Marcus, it’s Brady. I’ve been trying to reach Evie.”
    â€œI was thinking of calling