[Georgia 03] Fallen

sense. Sara knelt down and looked at the CD cases stacked beside an expensive-looking Bose player. Will’s tastes were certainly more highbrow than hers—lots of nonfiction and historical works that Sara would normally suggest for insomniacs. She pressed down a peeling sticker and read the words “Property of the Fulton County Library System.”
    The tip-tap of toenails announced Betty in the hallway. Sara blushed, feeling caught. She stood to fetch the dog, but Betty ran off with surprising speed. Sara followed her past the bathroom and into the second room. Will’s bedroom.
    The bed was made, a dark blue blanket covering matching sheets. There was just one pillow leaning against the wall where the headboard should have been. One bedside table. One lamp.
    Unlike the rest of the house, there was a utilitarian feel to the room. Sara didn’t want to dwell on why the lack of romantic setting gave her relief. The walls were white. No art hung on the walls. Will’s watch and wallet were on top of the chest of drawers beside yet another television. A pair of jeans and a T-shirt were laid out on the bench at the foot of the bed. There was a pair of folded black socks. His boots were under the bench. Sara picked up the shirt. Cotton. Long-sleeved. Black, like the one Will had been wearing.
    The dog jumped on the bed, pushed down the pillow and settled like a bird in a nest.
    Sara folded the shirt and put it back by the jeans. This was bordering on stalker behavior. At least she hadn’t smelled the shirt or rummaged through his drawers. She scooped up Betty, thinking she should shut the dog in the spare room and get out of here. She was doing just that when the phone started to ring. The answering machine picked up. She heard Will’s voice back in the bedroom.
    “Sara? If you’re there, please pick up.”
    She went back to his room and picked up the phone. “I was just about to leave.”
    His voice sounded tense. She could hear a baby crying in the background, people shouting. “I need you to come here right now. To Faith’s. Her mother’s house. It’s important.”
    Sara felt a rush of adrenaline sharpen her senses. “Is she all right?”
    “No,” he answered bluntly. “May I give you the address?”
    Without thinking, she opened the bedside drawer, assuming she’d find a piece of paper and pen. Instead, she saw a magazine like her father used to keep in the back of his toolbox in the garage.
    “Sara?”
    The drawer wouldn’t close. “Let me get something to write on. Hold on.”
    Will seemed to be the only person in America who didn’t have a cordless phone. Sara left the receiver on the bed, found some pen and paper on his desk, and came back. “All right.”
    Will waited for someone to stop shouting. He kept his voice low as he gave Sara the address. “It’s in Sherwood Forest, on the back side of Ansley. Do you know it?”
    Ansley was only five minutes away. “I can figure it out.”
    “Take my car. The keys are on a hook by the back door in the kitchen. Can you drive a stick?”
    “Yes.”
    “The news people are already here. Find the first cop you see, tell them you’re there at my request, and they’ll let you back. Don’t talk to anyone else. Okay?”
    “Okay.” She hung up the phone and pushed the bedside drawer shut with both hands. Betty was back on the pillow. Sara picked her up again. She started to leave, then thought better of it. Will was in shorts the last time she’d seen him. He’d probably want his jeans. She put his watch and wallet in the back pocket. There was no telling where he kept his gun, but Sara wasn’t going to go looking through his things any more than she already had.
    “Can I help you?”
    Sara felt a rush of horror burn through her body. Angie Trent was leaning against the bedroom door, palm resting casually against the jamb. Her dark, curly hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her makeup was perfect. Her nails were perfect. Her tight skirt and revealing top would’ve easily won her the cover shot on the magazine in Will’s drawer.
    “I-I—” Sara hadn’t stuttered since she was twelve.
    “We’ve met before, right? You work at the hospital.”
    “Yes.” Sara stood away from the bed. “Will got called out on an emergency. He asked me to bring your dog—”
    “ My dog?”
    Sara felt the vibrations of a growl building in Betty’s chest.
    Angie’s mouth twisted in distaste. “What happened to it?”
    “She was …” Sara felt like a