"But her mother said she'd disappeared. . . ."
"Well, that's highly plausible. There's an answering machine there with a very strange message. It doesn't give a name, but it's a woman's voice and it's like a cri de coeur. She's away but she—quote—can't say where. You should listen to it."
Greenwood Lake Road had now become Skyline Drive,
for no discernible reason, and the traffic was picking up. Ally put on some speed and passed a truck.
"I'll do that. But we don't actually know for sure if it's the same Kristen Starr, though it surely has to be. Did you recognize her voice?"
"I've never watched her cable show. I just sort of know who she is. But you'd better listen to her announcement. How could there be two screwed‑up young women named Kristen Starr in the same town, even if it is New York?"
"I'll listen. It's got to be her, though. Give me the address." She hesitated a moment after he did then, "Would you like to meet me there? I think I could probably make it in an hour, or an hour and a quarter to be safe. We could ask around see if anybody in her building or the neighborhood has any idea what's going on with her. Maybe somebody's seen her."
"I was supposed to head into the office, but nothing could keep me away," he declared with enthusiasm.
A patrol car was speeding by in the opposite direction, siren blaring. She waited for the noise to subside.
"Great. I'll try for an hour. Unless the traffic really gets crazy. You never know what to expect at the GW Bridge, even in the middle of the day."