Free She's Not There by Joy Fielding Page A

inconsequential.
    “Holy crap,” said Michelle, the words disappearing into tufts of steam upon contact with the frigid air. “How does anyone live here? It must be forty below.”
    Caroline shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her legs growing numb inside her thin wool pants, as they waited in a small line of travelers for a cab. “The Fairfax Hotel on Stephen Avenue Walk,” Caroline directed the driver as they climbed into the backseat.
    “Is it always so cold here?” Michelle asked. “My ears are frozen.”
    “It takes some getting used to,” the cabbie said pleasantly, his Pakistani accent melodic and thick. “Summer is very nice.”
    “Too bad Lili didn’t call in July,” Michelle said to her mother.
    They didn’t speak again until they reached the hotel half an hour later. The drive into the city had been as uneventful as it was uninteresting. A flat landscape covered in snow. Michelle was right, Caroline thought. It did feel as if they’d landed on the moon.
    The hotel was an old gray stone building, maybe ten stories high. Caroline paid the cabdriver in American dollars and they hurried into the lobby to escape the bitter wind. The lobby was surprisingly warm, the walls painted eggshell beige, the carpet a rich weave of brown and gold. Brown leather sofas and chairs were strategically placed throughout the large room, and a round oak table stood in the middle of the rug, a huge arrangement of colorful silk flowers at its center. But Caroline noticed only the empty sofas and chairs.
    “She’s not here,” Michelle said, giving voice to Caroline’s thoughts.
    They approached the reception desk. “I’m Caroline Shipley. I have a reservation,” she told the young man behind the counter. He had curly blond hair and a gap between his front teeth that seemed to widen when he smiled.
    He typed something into the computer in front of him. “Yes, here you are. You’re booked for one night, possibly two. Is that correct?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “Wait a minute,” Michelle said. “We’re not actually going to check in, are we? I mean, what’s the point? She’s not here.”
    “What else would you have me do? There isn’t another plane till tomorrow.”
    “Is there a problem?” the clerk asked.
    “No,” Caroline told him. “We’re good.”
    “We’re good and crazy,” Michelle said, not quite under her breath.
    “Could you see if there are any messages for me?” Caroline asked.
    The young man glanced back at his computer. “No. Nothing.”
    “You’re sure? Could you look again?”
    Michelle groaned audibly. “There are no messages, Mother.”
    “No messages,” the clerk repeated. “Do you prefer smoking or nonsmoking?”
    “Smoking,” Michelle said.
    “Nonsmoking,” Caroline said, their voices overlapping.
    “Come on, Mom. Give me a break.”
    “If you have to smoke, you’ll do it outside.”
    “I’ll freeze to death.”
    “Better than dying of cancer.”
    “Nice one, Mother.”
    “Nonsmoking,” Caroline said to the waiting clerk.
    “King-size bed or two doubles?”
    “Two doubles,” Caroline and Michelle said in unison.
    The clerk pushed a piece of paper across the counter. “If you’ll just fill this out and sign here. And I’ll need an imprint of your credit card.”
    Where are you, Lili?
Caroline was thinking as she handed over her Visa card. She glanced around the lobby, her eyes seeking out every nook and cranny in case the girl was hiding, waiting for the right moment to announce her presence. Or maybe she knew the young man behind the desk. Calgary wasn’t that big a city. It was entirely possible Lili had come to the hotel, recognized the clerk, and made herself scarce before he spotted her. But she saw no one. “Have you noticed anyone hanging around the lobby? A young girl, about seventeen…?”
    “Sorry. I just started my shift.”
    “She isn’t here,” Michelle said. “She’s not coming.”
    “You don’t know