"Replica02 - Pursuing Amy - Kaye, Marilyn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kaye Marilyn)

"Why can't I tell Tasha?" Amy asked. "She can keep a secret. She'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Even the most trustworthy people in the world can slip up, honey. They could say something in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in front of the wrong people. We have to take every precaution."

"Yeah, I guess," Amy conceded. "It would just be nice to have someone to talk to about it."

"I'm always here," her mother offered.

That was true. Too true. In Amy's opinion, Nancy Candler was there just a little too much, watching Amy, telling her what to do, what not to do.

"Mom . . . you don't know where the other Amys are, do you?"

Her mother looked at her and scowled. "Amy, you've asked me that before, and I haven't lied. The other babies were sent to adoption agencies all over the world. I have no idea what happened to them." She was folding the empty grocery bags now.

Amy gazed around the kitchen restlessly. "The answering machine is blinking," she announced. She hit the Play button.

"Mrs. Candler, this is Parkside Photos. We're holding a roll of film that we developed for you three months ago. Please pick it up."

There was a beep. The next message was from their neighbor, Monica.

"Hi, Nancy, it's me. Want to go to an exhibit opening tonight?"

"That sounds like fun," Amy said.

"I have papers to grade," her mother said.

The next voice on the machine was a man's. "Um, hello. This is a message for Nancy Candler. I hope you remember me, I'm Brad Carrington. We met at an art gallery in Santa Monica several weeks ago. I've been out of town or I would have called sooner. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to get together sometime. For coffee, or drinks, or dinner, or . . . or whatever." There was a little awkward laugh. "My phone number is 555-8263. I hope you call."

"Mom! He's asking you for a date! Do you remember him?"

"I think so," Nancy said casually, but the faint blush that was spreading across her cheeks said otherwise. "Honey, would you rewind and play that again?"

Amy obliged. This time her mother jotted down the number; then she looked at the phone and bit her lip.

Amy knew nothing would happen while she was in the room. "I've got some homework to finish," she said, and ambled out of the kitchen and into the living room.

There were times when Amy really appreciated having exceptional senses, and this was one of those times. She knew Nancy would take the phone into her little office off the kitchen and shut the door, but it didn't matter. With a little concentration, Amy could still hear every word her mother said.

"Brad, hi, this is Nancy Candler." Pause. "Yes, I was surprised to hear from you." Pause. Laugh. "Yes, it was a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

Amy knew that if she really strained, she might be able to hear what the person on the other end of the line was saying too. But she decided her mother was entitled to a little privacy. Besides, it wasn't nice to eavesdrop on a total stranger.

She had no problem with eavesdropping on her mother, though.

"Did you decide to buy that landscape painting? Oh, I know, it was very expensive. I think his work is somewhat overrated. Definitely overpriced."

Come on, Mom, Amy thought. Don't talk about art. Flirt!

"Yes, I've heard that art investment can be risky. Of course, inflation has an impact; it's difficult to predict the economy right now."