The Syndrome

Ramon nodded thoughtfully, and frowned. “She didn’t go out a lot,” he said. “Didn’t have a lot of people over.”

It was Adrie

“Someone that pretty, you’d think… “ He let the thought die, then changed the subject. “What about Jack?” he asked. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Adrie

“‘Cause I was thinkin’,” Ramon said. “Maybe I could take him—I mean, if you don’t want him—if you can’t have him. I like dogs. And since it’s Nikki’s dog… it would be kind of special.”

Adrie

“Only… if you could keep him for a week or maybe two?” Ramon suggested. “I’m just changing roommates and I got to square it with the new guy. I mean, I can make it a condition. This guy I got lined up, if he doesn’t like dogs—I just find someone who does.”

Adrie

Ramon looked pleased. “Well, that’s great,” he said.

She put his business card in her handbag, and the laptop in its case, which was on the floor beside the desk. Then she clipped the leash to Jack’s collar, slung the computer case over her shoulder, and stepped out into the corridor. Together, she and Ramon rode the elevator down to the lobby, and went outside.

“You want a taxi?”

Adrie

The doorman nodded, and they shook hands. “So… I’ll wait to hear from you,” he told her.

She smiled and, at a tug from Jack, lurched toward the curb.

Ramon beamed. “I’m a dog owner,” he said to no one in particular. “How about that?”

Chapter 8

She was standing in the crowd on the platform at Metro Center, waiting for the Red Line train that would take her to Cleveland Park. And the train was going to be there any second. Adrie

But not in her dream. The phone was real, and the Metro was a phantom. She knew this even as she dreamt about it, but knowing didn’t make any difference. The dream still had her in its grip as she fumbled for the receiver on her bedside table.

“Hello?”

The voice at the other end identified itself as “Ms. Neuma

The word—remains—made Adrie

“The police report lists you as the next of kin.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, we need the name of a funeral home—whoever’s going to process the rem—”

Adrie

“And?” The clerk’s impatience was palpable.

“I’ve never done this before,” Adrie

“I can fax you a list, if you have a machine,” the clerk suggested.

“I do,” Adrie

“There’s a release for the remains. So we can send them wherever you tell us.”

“Okay.”

“If we could have it back this afternoon? That would be good,” the clerk added.

“I’ll get it to you right away,” Adrie

Jack was already at the door, slapping it with his paws, eager to go for his walk.

As the two of them left the house, they entered a patch of garden on the way to the garage, where Adrie

Out on the street, Adrie

By the time she got back to the apartment, the fax machine was disgorging the last page of a multipage fax from the Medical Examiner’s office. Jack jumped onto the couch and curled up, as Adrie

She called the Albion Funeral Home, which was near the top of the list. The man at the other end had the soft and confidential voice of a used-car salesman on Qaaludes. When she interrupted his spiel to make it clear that she wasn’t interested in an elaborate service, he offered, without missing a beat, the most “economical” alternative, one that involved no “viewing” or “service” and a “classic,” if “basic,” coffin. Even so, it was soon clear that even the simplest burial was going to cost thousands of dollars.

In his silky voice, Barrett Albion belittled the amount, noting that “We take most of the major credit cards with the exception of American Express.” When Adrie

Once again, she hesitated. She’d imagined a decent funeral for her sister, with her friends and relatives gathered in mourning, there to remember her. But there wasn’t any way for that to happen, really. She’d looked in Nikki’s computer, and there wasn’t anyone, really. Just Adrie

The truth was, Nikki didn’t have any friends. Not really. Not at all.

“What about… cremation?” Adrie

After a moment, he replied, “Well, that is an option.”

“Fine,” Adrie

Albion sighed. “We only cremate twice a week,” he told her. “On Tuesdays and Fridays. So it will be Saturday before we can—”

“Saturday’s fine.”

But even as she selected this “alternative,” Adrie

She and the funeral director nailed down the remaining details, including the number and expiration date of Adrie

“Will you pick it up in person?” Albion asked. “Or would you rather we had it sent? We could FedEx—”

“I’ll get it myself in person,” Adrie