Part 36 (1/2)

”Call me Jane.”

”No! I want your real name. Tell me.”

An icky feeling crawled up my spine. I put some steel in my voice. ”Allen, take down this number: 555-2962. There's someone there who's trained in how to help you deal with your suicidal thoughts.”

”What the h.e.l.l? You're trying to foist me off on someone else? All I want to know is who I'm dealing with.”

My resolve wavered. It was against the rules of Heaven House to give out our names to the people who called the Helpline. For that matter, I shouldn't still be talking to this guy. Volunteers were armed with a long list of experts who dealt with all sorts of different problems, from teenaged runaways to unplanned pregnancy, depression to spousal abuse, alcoholism to... suicide. If Philip had been honest enough to list Heaven House as a Help Referral Line in the phone book, maybe this guy wouldn't be so angry about having to call someone else.

Still. There was something about him that gave me the creeps.

”No, Allen. I'm not going to tell you my real name. That's against the rules here. I'm here to help you find someone to talk to. Are you going to let me do that?”

”You stupid b.i.t.c.h! All I want to know is who-”

A finger came down on the disconnect b.u.t.ton. I went from staring stupidly at the phone to staring stupidly up at Philip. His cousin, Jude Carmichael, stood slightly behind him. I hadn't heard either of them come in.

”Should you have done that?” I finally managed.

”I could hear him yelling. He's a crank,” Philip said.

I licked my lips, ambivalent about the intense relief I felt at the timely rescue. ”But what if he really needed help?”

Jude, his coat collar still turned up around his ears, shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. In the brief time I'd known him, I'd noticed that he did that a lot. When he spoke, I leaned closer so I could hear his soft voice.

”Then he should have taken it. You don't have to put up with abuse, Sophie Mae. Philip should have told you. Sometimes people call in just to call in. They're lonely.” He shuffled his feet again. I had the feeling he knew about lonely. ”Or they're weirdos. Like this guy. His next call will probably be heavy breathing and obscene language. He's just bored”

”Well, he better not call back here, then.”

Philip bent toward me. ”Tell you what, babe. It's your first night. Your s.h.i.+ft's almost over. Go ahead home.”

”You sure?”

”Yeah. It's fine. My boy here can start his overnight s.h.i.+ft early.”

”That okay with you?” I asked Jude, since Philip hadn't bothered.

Jude shrugged and tried a smile. ”Sure. I forward the calls to my cell and keep it on my nightstand. It hardly ever rings.” He pulled a phone out of his pocket and started pus.h.i.+ng b.u.t.tons.

”I hope that guy didn't scare you off,” Philip said.