A few minutes later, the station was in sight, again. "Déjà vu", Danny muttered, thinking resentful thoughts about whatever idiot had caused the traffic accident. Probably a cab in a hurry to pick up a customer, or a delivery courier. They drove like lunatics, it was amazing that there weren't more accidents given the way those people drove. DMV ought to take them off the roads, Danny thought. Their bad driving meant that he was going to be late for meeting Lindsay. As he jogged up the stairs and put his iPod back in his pocket, he hoped she wouldn't be too angry. "Hey Danny", a girl called. He looked over and saw Kristy, a girl he'd met at a bar a few times last year. "Here to meet Lindsay?" Danny grinned – everyone knew about him and Lindsay. They couldn't believe that one country girl had made him give up his old ways. "Yeah, she's been over in Jersey doing that training course", Danny called back. "Danny, you wouldn't have to be waiting around here if you'd stayed with me", Kristy shot back. Danny consulted his watch and pretended to think about it. "I'll do you a deal, Kristy. If she's not here by 8pm, I'll meet you at the bar and we can talk about running off to Vegas". They both laughed and headed onwards. Six months ago, Danny knew that conversation would have wound up in a nightclub serving terrible tequila, and 24 hours of an equally terrible hangover. Today, all he could think about was the great weekend he had planned. Brunch at their favourite restaurant on Saturday, and tickets for a horror movie marathon on Sunday afternoon. He came to a pause by the arrivals screen, where they were supposed to meet, and double checked his watch. As he had expected, the delay at the accident site had made him ten minutes late. Lindsay was not going to be impressed. He contemplated getting her flowers from one of the shops, but he wasn't entirely certain that they wouldn't wind up floating down the Hudson.
After standing around for five minutes, he gave up waiting and headed off to look around the platform her train had arrived at, but all that was there was a bunch of empty carriages. He checked all the cafés for his coffee addicted girlfriend, but they were all closing for the evening. He even got a public announcement put out for her, but nothing. "Maybe she got delayed in Jersey, sir?" the clerk not-too-helpfully suggested. Danny shrugged and decided to get a bite to eat while he waited for the next train. She'd be on that one, for sure. Now it was him doing the waiting, and he wondered if she might want to make it up to him the way he'd considered making it up to her.
By ten past seven, Danny had polished off two burgers, two large servings of fries, and watched as two more Jersey trains had arrived, none of them carrying Lindsay. He had run up and down the platform each time, checking each carriage for Lindsay. He could forgive her for missing one train – maybe she had bumped into someone and met them for a coffee, or maybe a student had asked for some extra help. That happened sometimes, and was definitely a result of her being too nice to say no to anyone in need. She really was too nice for her own good. For his own good, too. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and called her. It went straight to voicemail, so he called the college she had been working at, who merely confirmed she had indeed signed out for the day at the usual time. Danny ran back down the platform as another Jersey train came in, checking all the carriages, but no Lindsay. Trying to control his now-frantic thoughts, he stopped, put his "Worst case scenario" CSI thinking aside, and tried to work out a logical course of action as the train departed for its next destination.
Reluctantly, he made his way to a bench and sat down. He dialled his way through five of Lindsay's best friends, but all he achieved was two invitations to dinner, reducing one friend to panicked hysteria, one dismissive "She'll be back soon", and one answering machine. At seven thirty, he made the call he didn't want to make, because it felt too much like giving up.
Flack and his notepad arrived in record breaking time. Together, they filled in her description on the Missing Person form. It was about then that Danny realised how it felt to be on the other side all those times he'd had to deal with upset relatives whose family members were missing. Their wailing, howling and inability to give him a sensible answer had been really irritating, like they were trying to make his job harder. Now in their shoes, he resolved to be more considerate in future. Their protests seemed quite logical now. The form did seem far too short with nowhere near enough room for description. How on earth would the detectives know who to look for? "Caucasian female, late twenties, wavy brown hair, black jacket, tan trousers, brown boots" could be a description of any of the millions of women in New York. Why was there nowhere to write "sparkly eyes", "infectious laughter" or "amazing intelligence"? Danny listened to Flack putting out a woefully short description of Lindsay to all the officers in the area, just in case she'd got in and was making her way back to his apartment. Flack had reminded him that the traffic accident from earlier meant a lot of people had to find alternative routes. It was possible that Lindsay had just got a bit lost on the unfamiliar streets. Starting to feel slightly nauseous, Danny listened to Flack repeating the short description to Jersey's police chief, picking out the odd words….one of our own…should have been on the earlier train…missing for five hours…good friend. It just didn't feel like enough.