I STARE at the dead receiver, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

Help me.

It sounded a lot like Dawn, although I can’t be absolutely sure from just two words. But whoever it was, they sounded hysterical. Panicked.

Help me.

And then the dead line, which has now turned into a dial tone.

I toyed with the possibility that something was wrong when Dawn was late this morning, but I didn’t genuinely believe it was anything serious. Was I wrong? Has something terrible happened to Dawn?

Is she in danger?

I reach into my purse for my phone. I select Dawn’s name from my contacts and click on her number. It rings several times and then I hear the monotone of her voice:

You have reached the cellular phone of Dawn Schiff. I am not available to answer your call at this time. At the beep, please leave your name, a callback number, an alternate contact number, and your reason for contacting me.

I decide against leaving a message. Instead, I shoot off a text message:

Hey Dawn, everything okay?

I watch the screen, waiting for the little bubbles to indicate she’s typing.

They don’t appear.

I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to talk to Seth.

Seth Hoffman has been the manager of the Dorchester branch of Vixed since before I started working here. Seth and I have an understanding—he gives me a long rope, and I kick ass at sales. It’s nice having a boss who isn’t up in my business all the time about every penny I spend on my customers and makes me account for every nanosecond of my time. I’m sure it would be different if I didn’t get results, but Seth trusts me.

I rap on the door to Seth’s office, which is already partially ajar. He does have a secretary, but she’s sort of the secretary for everyone, and she doesn’t monitor who goes in and comes out of his office. So when he calls out for me to come in, I go right on in.

When Kim and I started working here, we used to giggle about how cute our boss was. Seth is now in his mid-forties—fifteen years my senior

—but he’s got a youthful look. He has lines around his eyes that crinkle when he smiles, a sprinkling of gray hair in his temples that suits him, and while he always wears a tie, it’s never quite cinched all the way to his throat.

“Hey, Nat,” he says when he sees it’s me. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Not exactly…” I hover in front of Seth’s desk, wanting to share my concerns with him, but not wanting to sound like I’m overreacting. “Did Dawn call out sick today?”

His dark eyebrows shoot up. “No. She didn’t. Why? She’s not here?”

Like me, Seth must know that Dawn operates like she’s controlled by a master clock. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Huh,” he says.

Damn. I had been hoping she had called him. Told him she had a sick grandma and she wouldn’t be in for the day. “I called her and she didn’t pick up. And also…”

He frowns. “Also what?”

“Dawn’s phone was ringing and I picked it up. And the person on the other line said, ‘Help me.’”

Seth nods. “Okay, so what did they need help with? Did they need information on one of the products? Was it a customer complaint?”

“No, you don’t understand. It sounded like they were in trouble and needed help. I… I think it was Dawn.”

“So… she’s having car trouble or something? Did she tell you what she needed help with?”

“No…” I squeeze my hands together. “She just said ‘help me’ and hung up.”

“Oh.” The expression on his face betrays a distinct lack of concern. He doesn’t look even the slightest bit worried. “Well, just call her back and ask what she needs help with.”

“I have. She’s not picking up.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure she’s fine. What could have happened?”

“I don’t know…” I start to bite on my thumbnail—an old bad habit when I’m nervous—but I stop myself. I spent a lot on this French manicure, and the last thing I want to do is wreck it. “Maybe she was in an accident.”

“Let me give her a call.”

My shoulders relax slightly as Seth picks his cellphone off his desk and scrolls through the numbers. Now that I can see his hands, I notice the wedding band he always wears on his left fourth finger is gone. Recently gone—there’s a visible tan line. My eyes stray to the photograph he always keeps on his desk of him and his wife Melinda, but that’s gone too.

Hmm. That’s interesting.

I’m itching to ask Seth about the missing ring and picture of his wife. But it’s none of my business. He’s my boss, after all. And there are more pressing problems at the moment.

Seth places the call and we both wait while it presumably rings on the other line. After a few seconds, I can hear the muted sound of Dawn’s voicemail message. Seth drums his fingers against his desk as he waits for her irritatingly long voicemail message to run.

“Hey, Dawn,” Seth says. “We haven’t seen you at work today, and I wanted to know what’s going on. Is everything okay? Give me a call as soon as you can.” He disconnects the call and places his phone down on his desk. “Not picking up. But she’ll call back.”

“Oh.”

“You know what?” He snaps his fingers. “I just remembered—Dawn and I were supposed to have a meeting today at two. She made a big thing out of how she needed an appointment and it was so important.”

“Important?” My stomach flutters, remembering the similar email she sent to me. A matter of great importance. It must have been at least a bit of a big deal if she scheduled a meeting with the boss about it. “What was so important?”

“No clue. Probably something ridiculous, knowing Dawn.” He cracks what feels like a very inappropriate smile, given the circumstances. “Anyway, she made such a big deal out of it, so I’m sure she’ll show up at two to talk to me.”

I shift my weight between my bright red Louboutins. I always wear heels, and red is my favorite color for shoes, but these are pinching my toes like crazy. I should’ve gotten a size eight. “Maybe we should call the police?”

“Call the police?” Seth blinks at me. “Are you serious? She’s an hour late to work and you want to call the police?”

“She called asking for help!” I remind him.

He blows air out between his pursed lips. “Are you sure it was even Dawn on the phone? Maybe it was a customer who needed help.”

“It wasn’t a customer.” “Are you sure?”

I start to say yes, but now he’s got me questioning my own memory. I picked up the phone and the other person on the line said “help me.” And they did sound upset. But then again, some customers do sound upset when they call. Is it possible that it wasn’t Dawn calling, and it really was just a customer? And maybe they hung up when they heard my voice instead of hers?

“There are a hundred things that could’ve happened to her,” he points out. “I don’t think we need to call the police. They would laugh at us.”

That could be true.

Seth’s eyes soften. “Are you okay, Nat? You look kind of frazzled.” “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You’ve been working your butt off lately. Your sales have been through the roof, and you’ve been organizing this 5K. I don’t even know how you have the time. You should relax a little.”

The beginning of a lump forms in my throat. “I make time for things that are important.”

“I know.”

I swallow down the lump. “You’re showing up to run on Saturday, right? I’m counting on you.”

“I’ll be there.” He places a hand on his chest. “I promise. And don’t worry—I bet anything Dawn will be in my office at two. She’s always on time.”

As soon as I get out of Seth’s office, I return to my cubicle. That turtle figurine is still on my desk, staring up at me with its vacant black eyes. Seth’s comment about how I look frazzled is still ringing in my ears, so I pull out my compact. Despite the expensive face cream I smeared over my cheeks this morning, my skin looks sallow. Usually, I have great skin. It’s one of the things that helps me sell our product. But I didn’t sleep well last night. My blond hair looks uncharacteristically limp and lifeless.

I just can’t stop thinking about that phone call… I can’t stop hearing the frantic edge in the caller’s voice.

Help me.

It didn’t sound like somebody asking for customer assistance. It sounded like the cries of somebody who was truly in trouble.

But Seth is right. I can’t call the police to report that my coworker is an hour late to work. I’m sure Dawn will show up to work soon. This is surely all a big misunderstanding.