FACETS (JAKE SCARNE THRILLERS Book 6) by Lawrence de Maria Page B

you do with your hair.”
    “Go fuck yourself.”
    ***
    The coffee shop where Scarne was to meet Alana Dallas’s two roommates, Neeja Ranganathaw and Mayleen Hau, was on Broadway two blocks from Barnard. He arrived early, grabbed a table in a room already crowded with chattering students, and was looking at a menu when the two girls walked in. They went straight to his table. He stood.
    “Hello, Mr. Scarne,” one of the girls, a lithe and brown-skinned beauty with jet-black hair, said.
    “How did you know it was me?”
    “Look around,” she said, smiling. “Does the phrase ‘sore thumb’ mean anything to you? I’m Neeja. This is Mayleen.”
    They shook hands all around and sat.
    “I hope you ladies are hungry,” Scarne said.
    “I don’t know about May, but I could eat a cow,” Neeja said, “even if it was sacred.”
    Scarne laughed. He signaled a waitress and they all ordered cheeseburgers, cokes and French fries. They chatted while they waited for their lunch. Neeja was from Bihar, a province in eastern India that borders Nepal. Mayleen was from Shanghai. She had a plain face but a nice figure, and Scarne suspected that with the right makeup and clothes she would be quite attractive. Both girls were dressed in college dishabille, jeans with ripped knees, sweaters and boots, but everything looked fresh and pressed. Both loved Barnard and New York, and said they should have listened to Alana Dallas when she told them not to go on Spring Break in Florida. They wanted a real “American” experience. What they got was a bacchanal. Rather than hang around the pool and beach parties to be pawed by drunken college boys who wanted them to take their bikini tops off, they found some family beaches, where they swam and lay in the sun. At their own hotel, which catered to Spring Breakers, they prevailed upon a sympathetic manager who moved them to a more isolated wing of the hotel at no extra charge. He also recommended some quiet restaurants in town.
    “So it was not a total disaster,” Mayleen said.
    “And as long as our parents don’t find out,” Neeja said, laughing, “we can chalk it up as a learning experience.”
    “Your secret is safe with me,” Scarne said.
    Their burgers came and the girls dug in ravenously.
    “Exams must be hard work,” Scarne observed.
    “We don’t eat when we study,” Mayleen said through a mouthful of fries.
    After they finished, Neeja said, “The blueberry pie here is to die for. They make it themselves.”
    Scarne laughed and ordered three pieces and three coffees.
    “A la mode?” the waitress asked.
    The girls’ smiles told Scarne all he needed to know. Vanilla was the universal choice.
    Over dessert, which was excellent, though Scarne couldn’t remember a blueberry pie that wasn’t, Neeja asked, “Do you know when Alana is coming back? I guess not this term. We spoke to her uncle. He told us to plan on her being our roommate next year. Even wanted to know if we needed Alana’s share of the rent to lock up the apartment.”
    “Scary-looking man,” Mayleen said. “But he was nice.”
    Scarne presumed that the “uncle” was Anastasia.
    “I think that you should assume Alana will be back for senior year,” he said, cautiously. “But there has been a development.”
    Both girls looked concerned.
    “Has she had a relapse?” Neeja asked.
    Scarne decided on partial truth.
    “Look, when I called I said I was a friend of the family, with some questions about Alana. I am acting on behalf of Alana’s mother. She hired me. I’m a private investigator.” Scarne took out his identification and both girls looked at it. “After Alana recovered, she ran off and I’m one of several people looking for her. We thought she might have come back East. I presume she has not contacted either of you since you spoke to her uncle.”
    They were interrupted when several students stopped by their table to say hello. One asked after Alana, but most of the conversation centered