I turned the scanner on low, listening for accidents. I thought about calling Holman to see if he had heard of any crashes on the highway. I imagined visiting her at the hospital, bandaged, stabilized, surrounded by tubes. I'd bring her flowers and books and newspapers, keep her from sinking into total despair. I'd stay with her every night on a cot in her room in the ICU, then move into the guest room on Dalecarlia Drive when she was ready to go home. She'd have to learn to walk again; rehab would take more than a year; every day she'd want to give up. In the end, she'd tell all of our friends that I saved her life. When I finally reached her, she sounded drowsy. "It's Gordon Hatch," I said. "I thought we were going to meet at your house. I must have lost you." Alicia perked up. "Where were you? I thought you were right behind me. What happened?" "I was following you for a while until I got stuck in the slow lane. I looked up and you were gone," I said. "My car's pretty old. It doesn't do so hot on the highway." "Well, there was definitely somebody following me.
What do You think about Obituary Writer (9780547691732)?
