Free Crazy in Chicago by Norah-Jean Perkin Page A

from the disappearance. Why would I start having insomnia and nausea now?”
    â€œWell, sometimes people have delayed reactions to events, especially if they’re traumatic,” Roberta had argued. “Look at rape victims, or childhood abuse victims. Sometimes they don’t even remember what happened until years later. And then, only after months or years of stress-related symptoms, including sleeplessness and other nervous behavior.”
    She paused. “I think you should go back over everything that happened to you before and after your disappearance. Look at the news stories. Talk to the police. Talk to Allie. Now that some time has elapsed, you might notice something you didn’t then, something important that would jog your memory.”
    â€œI’ve done that already.” Cody didn’t like to admit the extent of his reticence. Besides, he’d pored over the news stories and police files for weeks to no avail. What could he possibly find out now that he didn’t already know?  
    And something more important. “Even if I did find out more about what happened to me, how would that help my insomnia and nausea attacks?”
    â€œDon’t you see?” As Roberta had grown more animated, more adamant, her foot had pressed down harder on the gas pedal, sending them speeding over the limit. “Something’s eating at you. You just don’t know what it is. Like you said the other night, you realize now how much you resent having lost those six weeks of your life. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something. The insomnia and nausea are just the physical effects of the turmoil inside. Maybe even the blue light you saw, too.”
    Walking down the hall to the morgue, Cody grimaced at the recollection. Something else to plague him. He didn’t like talking about his missing six weeks. Why would he want to delve into them in minute detail, something he’d already done for far too long in the first months after his return?
    He shook his head. His and Roberta’s parting had been strained after he’d made it clear he had no intention of revisiting the events of a year ago again. He’d told her he was certain he would sleep better that night.
    He suppressed another yawn. If only he’d been right. He certainly needed the sleep. But here he was, another day after less than two hours of shut-eye.
    Thoughtfully he entered the library and approached the counter. Could Roberta be right? He hated to think that stubbornness and an uncharacteristic reluctance to investigate on his part might be the only thing between him and resolving his current problems. Perhaps there was a connection. Perhaps yet another look at his disappearance was warranted.
    A bearded man leapt up from his desk and gestured to a foot-high pile of files. “That’s everything you requested. I may have a few more related files for you later today.”
    Cody reached over to pick up the files. He paused, considered, then slowly lowered his hands to the counter.
    â€œThanks a lot. Before I go, I’d like you to get me another file.”
    â€œYes?”
    Cody nodded. Apprehension rose in his throat, but he forced the words out anyway.
    â€œI’d like the file on my disappearance last summer.”
    * * *
    Cody closed the file and tossed it onto the metal garden table. “Well, that’s that. Another big zero.”
    He slumped into his chair and rubbed his eyes. Early evening shadows darkened Roberta’s patio, but it was still bright enough to read.
    Roberta put down the photocopied news clipping she’d been reading. Cody, unaware she had her own set of clippings on his disappearance, had kindly provided her with photocopies of everything.
    She studied Cody with concern. Despite his claims to the contrary, she knew he hadn’t slept last night. Likely he’d suffered at least one or two nausea attacks today, too. The lack of sleep definitely