A fingertip grazed a plucked eyebrow

A fingertip grazed a plucked eyebrow,adidas jeremy scott wings. "To be honest, I wanted to be convinced. Being alone's so ... dark. I hadn't . . . And Lo's a wonderful person—and now she's flown off somewhere. Dr. Delaware, do we need to worry? I really don't want to worry, but I must admit, I am bothered."
"Lauren didn't give a clue where she was going?"
"No, and she didn't take her car—it's parked in her space out back. So maybe she did fly off—literally,fake uggs boots. It's not as if she's a Greyhound girl. Nothing slow suits her, she works like a demon—studying, doing research."
"Research at the U?"
"Uh-huh."
"On what?"
"She never told me, just said that between her classes and research job she had a full plate. You think that's what might've taken her somewhere—the job?"
"Maybe," I said. "No idea who she worked for?"
Salander shook his head. "We're chums and all that, but Lo goes her way and I go mine. Different biorhythms. She's a morning lark, I'm a night owl. Perfect arrangement—she's bright and chirpy for classes and I'm coherent when the time rolls around for my work. By the time I wake up, she's usually gone. That's why it took a couple of days to realize her bed hadn't been slept in." He shifted uncomfortably. "Our bedrooms are our private space, but Mrs. A sounded so anxious that I did agree to peek in."
"The right thing to do," I said.
"I hope."
"What kind of work do you do, Mr. Salander?"
"Andrew. Advanced mixology." He smiled. "I tend bar at The Cloisters. It's a saloon in West Hollywood."
Milo and Rick sometimes drank at The Cloisters. "I know the place."
His brows climbed higher. "Do you. So why haven't I seen you before?"
"I've driven by."
"Ah," he said. "Well my Bombay martinis are works of art, so feel free to breeze in,fake uggs boots." His face grew grim. "Listen to me, Lauren's gone and I'm sitting here prattling— No, Doctor, she never gave me a clue as to where she was headed. But till Mrs. A called I can't say I was ready to panic. Lauren did go away from time to time."
"For a week?"
He frowned. "No, one or two nights. Weekends."
"How often?"
"Maybe every two months, every six weeks—I can't really recall."
"Where'dshego?"
"One time she told me she spent some time at the beach. Malibu,fake rolex watches."
"By herself?"
He nodded. "She said she rented a motel room, needed some time to decompress, and the sound of the ocean was peaceful. As for the other times, I don't know."
"Those weekends, did she usually take her car?"
"Yes, always. ... So this is different, isn't it?" He rubbed his armband tattoo, wincing as if the art were new, the pain fresh. "Do you really think something's wrong?"
"I don't know enough to think anything. But Mrs. Abbot seems to be worrying."
"Maybe Mrs. A's getting us all overwrought. The way mothers do."
"Have you met her?"
"Only once, a while back—two, three months ago. She came to take Lo out to lunch and we chatted briefly while Lo got ready. I thought she was nice enough but rather Pasadena, if you know what I mean. Coordinated ensemble, several cracks past brittle. I saw her as a perfect fiftiesperson—someone who'd drive a Chrysler Imperial with all the trimmings and pile the backseat full of Bullocks Wilshire shopping bags."