Play Dead by Harlan Coben Page A

reasons I love you.'
    'Pervert. You should be used to smoke by now. You lived with T.C. for four years. And what about Clip? The two of them are always smoking those stinking cigars.'
    'Yeah, but I rarely french-kiss those two. I mean, maybe T.C. every once in a while . . .'
    'I suspected as much.'
    'Plus T.C. could never survive without his cigars. They're a part of him, a personality appendage, so to speak. And Clip is both seventy years old and my boss. We don't make it a habit of criticizing our boss. Besides, I like it when Clip smokes.'
    'Why?'
    'The Victory Cigar. It means we're about to win a game.'
    She wrapped her arms around him. 'My cigarette is kind of like a Victory Cigarette.'
    'Oh?'
    'Clip likes to smoke them after a game. I like to smoke them after an especially powerful org -- '
    'Keep it clean, Ayars.'
    'Sorry.'
    David sat up. 'Do you want to know the real reason I want you to quit?'
    She shook her head.
    He held her, his hand gently stroking his hair. 'Because I don't want anything bad to happen to you,' he said softly. 'And because I want to be with you forever.'
    She looked at him hopefully. 'Do you mean that?'
    'I love you, Laura. I love you more than you can ever know.'
    Two months later, she had quit. She had not even thought about smoking since -- until now.
    A loud knock on the door jarred her back to the present.
    'T.C.?'
    'Yeah.'
    'It's open.'
    He came through the doorway, his face drawn. 'Some civilization. No MacDonalds. No Roy Rogers.'
    'Anything new?'
    Laura watched T.C. shake his head, his movements oddly jittery.
    'What is it?' she asked.
    'Nothing. I guess I'm just a little tired and hungry.'
    'Order some room service.'
    'In a little while.'
    'Why wait? If you're hungry -- '
    The phone rang.
    T.C. quickly reached over Laura and grabbed the receiver. 'Hello?'
    Laura tried to read his expression, but T.C. turned away, his face hunched over the receiver like a bookie at a pay phone. Minutes passed before T.C. finally said, 'Right. I'm on my way.'
    'What's going on?'
    'I'll be back in a little while, Laura.'
    'Where are you going? Who was that on the phone?'
    He started toward the door. 'Just a potential lead. I'll call you if it turns into anything.'
    'I'm going with you.'
    'No, I need you here. Someone else might call.'
    She grabbed her purse. 'The receptionist can take a message.'
    'Not good enough.'
    'What do you mean? I can't do any good here.'
    'And you certainly can't do anything but get in my way out there. Look, Laura, I want to get all the facts. I don't want to have to worry about coddling -- '
    'Coddling?' she interrupted. 'That's a lot of bullshit, T.C., and you know it.'
    'Will you let me finish? One of these Crocodile Dundees sees the new bride and clams up or softens his words.'
    'Then I'll stay in the car.'
    'Just listen to me a second. I'm expecting an important call in a little while and I need you here to answer it. I'll call you as soon as I know something. I promise.'
    'But -- '
    He shook his head and hurried out the door. Laura did not chase him. In Boston, she would never have tolerated such brusque and patronizing treatment by any man or woman. But this was not Boston. T.C. was David's closest, most trusted friend. If anyone could bring him back safely, T.C. was the man.
    On the other end of the line, the caller listened to T.C. hang up and then waited. The dial tone blared its monotonous trumpet of noise but still the caller stood mesmerized and did not replace the receiver.
    It had been done. T.C. had been notified. Everything was moving forward. There was no turning back.
    When the phone was finally hung up, the caller fell onto the bed and started to cry.
    Laura sat alone in the hotel room, her mind hazy and confused. The phone did not ring. No one knocked on the door. Time trudged forward at an uneven, unhurried pace. She began to feel more and more isolated from the world, from reality, from David.
    Her eyes skittered around the one-time beautiful suite, finally