Grey Dawn by Clea Simon Page A

pushed aside while reading came back to her now. ‘Did you somehow appear to the author?’ It made no sense; she knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. But as she looked around the empty kitchen, the only sound was Esmé lapping at her dish. That was enough to remind Dulcie of her own empty belly, and soon she was digging into a monster-size bowl of Cheerios.
    Of course, her phone rang. ‘Mwah?’ she managed, removing the spoon from her mouth.
    â€˜Dulcie! Are you okay?’ It was Chris, sounding a little panicked. Rather than scare him further, Dulcie worked at swallowing the wet mouthful. ‘Dulcie?’
    â€˜Sorry, Chris,’ she said at last. ‘I’m here. I’m fine. You just caught me with my mouth full.’
    â€˜Oh, thank god.’ He sounded so relieved that Dulcie grew curious.
    â€˜Didn’t you get my text?’
    â€˜I got something, but it was garbled,’ her boyfriend sounded more like himself. ‘All I could make out was something about “locked up.” I was trying to tell myself that this was good. That whoever went after that woman had been locked up. But all I could think of was you, out there …’
    He sounded like he could go on, but Dulcie interrupted. ‘I’m fine, but Chris, there was another attack. Another student – right by the department office!’
    â€˜I
knew
it.’
    Dulcie kept talking. ‘It was Mina’s room-mate – she’s the girl who was attacked last night. Tonight it was Emily, whom I know, sort of. She’s in one of my sections. But we found her. There was a kitten in the alley—’
    â€˜Wait, hang on, Dulcie. From the beginning?’
    Chris didn’t really mean that, Dulcie knew. It would take hours to go back over the entire evening and what she’d heard – or deduced – about the visiting professor, Thorpe, and the moon. Besides, she realized, in retrospect, she was a little embarrassed. She had accused the possible next head of the department of a horrible crime without much proof. And then she had blurted out her worst fears. Granted, to her friends, but …
    â€˜Dulcie?’ She could make out muffled voices; he was calling from the computer lab. She should make it quick.
    â€˜Sorry, I was trying to figure out where to start.’ With that, she decided that the best place was right near the end, as they were leaving the party. She told Chris about hearing something – to him, she could confide that she’d thought she’d heard a roar, and then a voice that sounded like Mr Grey – and then finding the little orange tabby. And then that feeling that something was wrong, was still very wrong – and finding Emily. ‘So Lloyd and Raleigh walked her home,’ she concluded. ‘And Trista walked me home.’
    â€˜Wait, you didn’t call the police?’
    â€˜I wanted to, Chris. I really did – but she, Emily, wouldn’t let us.’ Dulcie thought back to the younger woman’s resistance. ‘Do you think that’s weird?’
    â€˜I do, but …’ He paused. ‘You know, it makes sense.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’ Esmé had finished her own dinner by then and jumped up on the kitchen table. Dulcie pushed her away as she bent to sniff at the cereal bowl. ‘No, that’s mine,’ she mouthed. The cat turned away, with an insulted air.
    â€˜Well, the cops said it was probably a domestic, right? I bet she knew him.’
    â€˜But she said …’ Dulcie stopped. What Chris had said fit – up to a point. ‘Why wouldn’t she turn this guy in?’
    â€˜Maybe she’s afraid.’ Dulcie wondered about that as she absently stroked the cat. ‘Maybe she feels culpable in some way. Ow!’ Esmé had turned and given her a sharp nip. ‘Sorry, that was just Esmé. I don’t think I can do anything right by her