Turned Inside Out Ch. 01

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A half-hour later, my wife still wasn't home, and I rechecked the app. It still showed my wife's phone in the heart of the slum. I anxiously called my wife's cellphone. I was nervous when the call immediately went to voicemail.

"Sweetheart, please call me ASAP."

I paced the living room for a few minutes and rechecked the app once more. It still showed my loving wife in the same damn spot.

I got tired of pacing and sat down in the living room. I picked up my well-worn copy of Raymond Chandler's 'The Big Sleep' but set it aside after reading the same sentence a half-dozen times without comprehending a word. I reached for a copy of National Geographic on the coffee table, thinking I could calm myself by staring at the photographs. An opened gel cap rolled across the surface I had cleaned earlier. Somehow it had gotten wedged between the magazines. There was a trace of powder left inside. Since neither Abby nor I took anything that came in gel caps, Susan must have brought it. Had that damn bitch spiked my wife's drink? What had the cunt done to my sweet wife?

I panicked. I hit the button on Find Friends to get directions and headed for my car. I only paused to grab my wallet and slip on a pair of sandals.

I tried to think of a rational explanation for their being in East Palo Alto. All I ever heard about the area on the nightly news were stories of prostitution, shootings, robberies, and drug raids. I always locked the doors to my car when I drove through after dark.

As I sped over the bridge, my heart was pounding, and my chest was so constricted that I found it hard to breathe. I pictured Abby lying in a pool of blood on a garbage-strewn street. Even worse, she could be in the clutches of a vicious East Palo Alto gang. I imagined her bravely fighting the brutal thugs as they ripped off her clothes before using her savagely.