Nano

CHAPTER 45

Thinking back over the course of their three-month friendship, Paul Caldwell made a mental list of the number of times Pia had said something along the lines of “I’ll be right back,” and then had not followed through with her promise. Paul knew Pia could be unreliable. Often when they were on the phone, she’d say, “I’ll call you right back,” and half the time, she didn’t. A couple of times, Paul had invited her to a drink with friends, and she said she was on her way but then had changed her mind. It wasn’t anything that irked Paul about Pia particularly, it was just one element of her unique and otherwise charming personality that he had learned to accept in the face of her other, better qualities.

Paul had come to understand that the sensitivity to other people’s feelings that one might expect from a friend was not a strong point for Pia due to her adult attachment disorder, which she’d admitted to early on in their relationship. After she had confided in him, Paul had made it a point to read about the condition, and the information had made it easier to adjust to her quirks, such as her impulsiveness, seeming lack of empathy, and resistance to trust. But Pia had never been so insistent as when she raced out of the ER a few hours before, saying she’d be right over to his apartment. She’d even sent a text saying she was on her way. Which was why Paul was worried when she hadn’t shown.

Paul had let Pia leave the ER without making any real effort to stop her, which he now regretted. But on a number of occasions, Pia had said she was going to do something when she clearly was thinking of doing another, like seeing Berman or going into Nano, as he was sure had happened in this case. Paul respected Pia’s right as an adult to take responsibility for her own actions, and he knew she was going to follow through on a particular course of action whether he approved or not. But still, the thought nagged at him, what if?

Beyond that, the basic issue was that some five hours after she had left, where was Pia? There was no answer when he tried her cell phone.

If, as Paul surmised, Pia had left after picking up the blood sample, she may have run into trouble. There were three alternatives Paul decided were plausible. The first was that perhaps Pia hadn’t gone into Nano at all — she had taken the sample somewhere else to examine it and either hadn’t had time to tell Paul where that was, or for some reason decided not to. The problem with that idea was that there weren’t a lot of places where microscopes were available at all, let alone at that time of day. The second alternative was that Pia had gone about her business at Nano without incident and opted not to return to Paul’s apartment to wake him up for a second time, and had gone home instead, turning off her own phone. Third and most improbable was that she was still at Nano. First, Paul explored the option that was easiest to check. Since he was not due at the ER until late, he went out and got in his car and headed west.

When he reached Pia’s apartment, he noticed that his parents’ Corolla wasn’t in the parking lot. This wasn’t conclusive proof that Pia wasn’t home, but it pointed in that direction. Undeterred, Paul knocked on Pia’s door a number of times, then retrieved the spare key from the top of the door frame. Paul had chided Pia for selecting such an obvious hiding place, but she reasoned that she owned nothing worth stealing, and it wasn’t like there was any other convenient spot to hide a key. Besides, she told Paul that she always brought the key inside when she was home.

“Pia? Are you here?” As he called out her name, Paul half expected to hear a quiet fusillade of insults asking him what the hell he thought he was doing, but there was no sound. Pia wasn’t in her bed, which didn’t look as if it had been slept in, although with Pia, it was a little hard to tell. Housekeeping wasn’t Pia’s strong suit, and sometimes when she came home from Nano in the early-morning hours, she didn’t bother to take off her clothes and just lay on top of the covers or on the couch.

The lack of possessions in Pia’s apartment and the fact she kept little food there meant it would be hard to tell whether or not she’d been there recently. There never were any dishes in the sink; there never was a book open on a nightstand, because there was rarely any food, and no nightstand, and few books. A glance through Pia’s clothing was of little use to Paul — there were garments he recognized, of course, but nothing he saw that was missing. Paul sat on the arm of Pia’s couch and checked his phone again to see if he had missed a message from her. He hadn’t.

What were his options? In his mind, Paul ran through the conversation he would have with the police if he called them. Yes, I last saw her maybe six hours ago. No, she’s not technically missing. Why am I worried? Because I think she may have been caught at her place of employment, where she’s currently not welcome. In fact she could have been considered a trespasser, meaning they might have called the police themselves. In that case, is there a Pia Grazdani possibly being held in custody?

Paul was not optimistic about such a call. If Pia had been arrested, and she had been allowed her famous phone call, the person she would call was him. As far as Paul knew, there was no family, and George was hundreds of miles away in California. Paul reasoned that he was there in Boulder and would know the circumstances. But there had been no call, from Pia or from anyone else.

All Paul could do was go home and wait.