"Rosenblum-CaliforniaDreamer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenbaum Benjamin)

Of what?

At the store, Jack eyed her over the fake tortoiseshell rim of his glasses as he
called Eureka and canceled the helicopter. "They were busy anyway," he drawled.
"Guess the storm hit real bad up there. Your visitor wasn't too sick, huh?"

Dumb woman, his expression said. Don't know just sick from dying.

"She was dying," Ellen snapped, but she hadn't died, had she? "I guess I was
wrong" she said lamely. "Thanks for calling Eureka." She turned away from Jack's
cool, judgmental face. She had no real friends in this Godforsaken town.
Ellen-and-Rebecca had been a complete and seamless universe. She could feel the
shattered bits of that universe crunching beneath her feet. "I'd better get
back," she said.

"Oh yeah." Jack crossed his arms on the top of the old-fashioned wood-and-glass
counter. "Aaron McDevitt was in yesterday, to pick up his share of the food. He
said he found a car up on the old logging road across Bear Ridge." He cleared
his throat. "Aaron brought this in." He fished around behind the counter, laid a
brown handbag on the scarred wood, put a woman's wallet down beside it. "Wasn't
no money in it," he said.

Aaron would have made sure of that. Ellen picked up the leather wallet. The bag
was leather, too. It looked expensive. She opened the wallet. Credit cards from
stores and oil companies. A check guarantee card. All in the name of Julia
DeMarco. Ellen started to say that it didn't belong to Laura, but she closed her
mouth without speaking. Laura's dark, oval face smiled at her from a California
driver's license.

Julia DeMarco?

"This is . . . her bag." Ellen folded up the wallet, stuffed it back into the
bag. "I'll take it to her. Thanks," she said too quickly. "Thank Aaron, too,
when you see him."

She left the store, feeling guilty, as if she was partner to some crime. There
were hundreds of reasons to lie about your name -- some good, lots of them bad.
Ellen stopped at the bottom of her driveway and opened the bag again. It held
the usual stuff; checkbook, wallet, makeup items and a leatherbound datebook.
Ellen found a leather card case full of business cards, printed on creamy stock.

Julia DeMarco

Attorney at Law

The address was San Francisco. Beth had told Ellen that her mother was a nurse
in Berkeley. The datebook listed court dates, appointments, and reminders to
pick up dry cleaning or visit the dentist. Ellen paged through it. Joseph's
Birthday was written neatly at the top of the page for next Wednesday. Joseph. A
dream, Laura had said with her face full of anguish. Ellen stuffed everything