Hally – page 6
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"Thanks." If Horace was in DC he must have rescheduled the meeting. Maybe George caught an earlier plane home?
Betty came back on the line. "Mrs. Murray, he isn't answering the page. The front desk clerk says a G. Murray checked out Saturday."
"Oh? Well, thanks for trying, Betty."
Figuring George stayed at Horace's condo in Oklahoma City, Hally picked up the keys to her car. If George was coming home early she wanted to fix something special, maybe a gazpacho? In the barn, opening the car door she heard a phone ringing. Was it theirs or her neighbor's? Back inside the machine was blinking.
Even before she answered, she knew it was George—their usual ESP, he heard her wondering about him.
"Hally, there's an ugly situation in Tulsa. I'll explain everything tomorrow. Be on
flight 32, arriving at 7 a.m. I'm okay but I'm needed here." It was a terse message but there was love in his tone. Hally felt it even before he added, "Hug your pillow for me,
I'll hug mine."
As Hally replayed the message wondering if he was already in Tulsa or still in Oklahoma City, her mother Maxine called.
"Your radio's on, isn't it, dear? That poor girl scalped! Imagine someone whittling away, peeling your scalp off like a knit hat—makes me ill just to think of it. The name's familiar. Talltree? Am I getting Alzheimer’s? She was George's star pupil wasn't she?"
"Mom, I'm in the middle of things." Maxine at sixty-four was sharper than ever. She knew the answer was yes. Now wasn't the time to rehash the story. Yasmine was in critical condition. "Can we talk about this some other time? I'll call you later."
Tense, upset, Hally booted the computer. An e-mail, a yoo-hoo to her sister in Berkshires was the way to organize her thoughts.
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