SEVENTEEN 8 страница

• • •

Marco watches his father- and mother-in-law get into their Mercedes and drive off. He’s barely eaten since this all started. His jeans hang loose on his body.

It was an awful moment when Richard was being difficult about raising the money. But he’d just been grandstanding. He had to make sure everybody knew what a great guy he was. Had to make sure everybody appreciated how important he was.

“I knew they would come through for us, ” Anne says, suddenly beside Marco.

How did she always manage to say exactly the wrong thing? At least when it came to her parents. How could she not see her father for what he was? Couldn’t she see how manipulative he was? But Marco is silent.

“It’s going to be okay, ” Anne says, taking Marco’s hand in hers. “We’re going to get her back. And then everyone will see that we were the victims here. ” She squeezes his hand. “And then we should make the damn police apologize. ”

“Your father will never let us forget that they bailed us out. ”

“He won’t see it that way! He’ll see it as saving Cora, I’m sure of it! They won’t hold it over us. ”

His wife can be so naï ve. Marco gives her hand a squeeze back. “Why don’t you lie down and try to get some rest? I’m going to go out for a bit. ”

“I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, but I’ll try. Where are you going? ”

“I’m going to pop into the office and check on a few things. I haven’t been there since. . . since Cora was taken. ”

“Okay. ”

Marco puts his arms around Anne and gives her a hug. “I can’t wait to see her again, Anne, ” he whispers.

She nods against his shoulder. He lets her go.

Marco watches her walk up the stairs. Then he grabs his car keys from the bowl on the table in the front hall and heads out.

• • •

Anne intends to lie down. She’s too keyed up, though—almost daring to hope she might get her baby back soon, yet still terrified that it might all go horribly wrong. As her father said, they have no proof that Cora is even still alive.

But she refuses to believe that Cora is dead.

She carries the green onesie with her, holding it to her face and breathing in the scent of her baby. She misses her so much it physically hurts. Her breasts ache. In the upstairs hall, she stops, leans against the wall, and slides down to the floor outside the baby’s room. If she closes her eyes and presses the onesie to her face, she can pretend that Cora is still here, in the house, just across the hall. For a few moments, she lets herself pretend. But then she opens her eyes.

Whoever sent them the onesie has demanded five million dollars. Whoever it is knows that their little girl is worth five million dollars to them and obviously has a pretty good idea that Anne and Marco can get the money.

Perhaps it is someone they know, if only slightly. She gets to her feet slowly, pauses on her way into their bedroom. Perhaps it is even someone they know fairly well, someone who knows they have access to money.

When this is all over, she thinks, after they get Cora back, she will devote her life to her child—and to finding the person who took her. Maybe she will never stop looking at people they know, wondering if that person is the one who took their baby—or knows who did.

She suddenly realizes she probably shouldn’t be handling the onesie like this. If it all goes wrong and they don’t get Cora back, they will have to turn the onesie—and the note—over to the police, as evidence and to convince them of their innocence. Surely the police will no longer suspect them now. But any evidence that the outfit might have offered up has probably been ruined by the way she has been touching it and breathing on it and even wiping her tears with it. She puts it down on her dresser in the bedroom and lays it flat. She looks at it, forlorn, on the dresser. She leaves it there, with the note pinned to it containing their instructions. They cannot afford to make a mistake.

It’s the first time she’s been alone in the house, she realizes, since midnight on the night Cora was taken. If only she could go back in time. The last few days have been a blur, of fear and grief and horror and despair—and betrayal. She told the police that she trusted Marco, but she lied. She doesn’t trust him with Cynthia. She thinks that he might have other secrets from her. After all, she has secrets from him.

She wanders from her dresser over to Marco’s and pulls open the top drawer. Aimlessly, she rummages through his socks and underwear. When she has finished with the top drawer, she opens the second. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but she’ll know when she finds it.

SEVENTEEN

arco gets into the Audi and drives. But not to the office. Instead he takes the nearest exit and drives out of the city. He weaves in and around traffic; the Audi is responsive to his touch. After about twenty minutes, he turns off onto a smaller highway. Soon he reaches a familiar dirt road that leads to a fairly secluded lake.

He pulls in to a graveled parking area in front of the lake. There is a small, stony beach with some old, weathered picnic tables, which he has rarely seen anyone use. A long dock projects out into the lake, but no one launches boats from here anymore. Marco has been coming here for years. He comes here alone, whenever he needs to think.

He parks the car under the shade of a tree, facing the lake, and gets out. It’s hot and sunny, but there’s a breeze coming off the lake. He sits on the hood of the car and looks out at the water. There is no one else here; the place is deserted.

He tells himself that everything will be all right. Cora is fine; she has to be. Anne’s parents will get the money. His father-in-law would never pass up an opportunity to be a hero or a big shot, even if it cost him a small fortune. Especially if it looks like he’s bailing Marco out. They won’t even miss the money, Marco thinks.

He takes a deep breath of the lake air and expels it, trying to calm himself. He can smell dead fish, but no matter. He has to get air into his lungs. The last few days have been a living hell. Marco isn’t made for this. His nerves are shot.

He has regrets now, but it will all be worth it. When he gets Cora back and he has the money, everything will be okay. They’ll have their daughter. And he’ll have two and a half million dollars to get his business on track again. The thought of taking money from his father-in-law makes Marco smile. He hates the bastard.

With this money he’ll be able to sort out his cash-flow problems and take his business to the next level. It will have to be funneled into the business through a silent, anonymous investor, by way of Bermuda. No one will ever know. His accomplice, Bruce Neeland, will get his half share, go away, and keep his mouth shut.

Marco almost hadn’t gone through with it. When the babysitter canceled at the last minute, he’d panicked. He’d almost called the whole thing off. He knew Katerina always fell asleep with her earbuds in when she was babysitting. Twice they’d come home before midnight and surprised her dead to the world on the living-room sofa. She wasn’t that easy to wake up either. Anne didn’t like it. She thought Katerina wasn’t a very good babysitter, but it was hard to get a sitter at all, since there were so many young children in the neighborhood.

The plan had been for Marco to go out for a smoke at twelve thirty, let himself into the house quietly, grab the sleeping baby, and take her out through the back while Katerina slept. If she’d woken up and seen him come in, he would have told her he’d come to check on the baby, since they were just next door. If she’d woken up and seen him carrying the baby out, he would have told her he was going to take Cora next door for a minute to show her off. In either case he would have aborted the whole thing.

If he’d pulled it off, the story would have been about a child abducted from her bedroom while the babysitter was downstairs.

But then she canceled. Marco was desperate, so he’d had to improvise. He persuaded Anne to leave Cora at home with the proviso that they’d check on her every half hour. It wouldn’t have been possible if the video on the baby monitor had still been working, but with just the audio, he thought it would be all right. He would take Cora out the back to the waiting car when he checked on her. He knew it would make him and Anne look bad, leaving the baby home alone, but he thought it could work.

Had he felt there was any actual risk to Cora at all, he never would have done it. Not for any amount of money.

It’s been brutally hard these last few days, not seeing his daughter. Not being able to hold her, to kiss the top of her head, to smell her skin. Not being able to call and check on her and make sure she’s all right.

Not knowing what the hell is going on.

Marco tells himself again that Cora is fine. He just has to hang on. It will all be over soon. They’ll have Cora back and the money. He especially regrets how hard this is on Anne, but he tells himself that she’ll be so happy to have Cora back that maybe it will give her some perspective. It has been fucking awful the last few months, dealing with his own financial problems and watching his wife slip away from him, lost in her own downward spiral.

It’s all been much more difficult than expected. When Bruce Neeland hadn’t called within the first twelve hours, Marco had been frantic. They’d agreed on no more than twelve hours before first contact. When he hadn’t heard from Bruce by Saturday afternoon, Marco was afraid that Bruce had lost his nerve. The case had received a lot of attention. Even worse—Bruce wasn’t answering the cell phone Marco was to call in an emergency. And Marco had no other way to reach him.

Marco had handed his baby over to a co-conspirator who hadn’t followed the plan and whom he couldn’t get hold of. He was going out of his mind with worry. Surely Bruce wouldn’t harm her?

Marco had toyed with the idea of confessing everything to the police, telling them what he knew about Bruce Neeland, in the hopes that they might be able to track him and Cora down. But he thought the risk to Cora was too great. So he’d bided his time.

And then the onesie had arrived in the mail. The relief he’d felt when they received the onesie had been incredible. He figured Bruce must have lost his nerve about calling the house as planned, even with the untraceable, prepaid cell phone. He must have been worried about the police. So he’d found another way.

Another two days and it will all be over. Marco will take the money to the rendezvous point—one they previously picked out together—and get Cora back. And when it is all over, he’ll call the police and tell them. He’ll give them a false description of Bruce and the car he’ll be driving.

If there was an easier way to raise a couple million dollars quickly, he couldn’t think of it. God knows he’d tried.

• • •

Anne’s parents come over Thursday morning with the money. Bundles of hundreds. Five million dollars in unmarked bills. The banks have used machines to count it all. They had to scramble to get the cash at such short notice; it was difficult. Richard makes sure they know it. It takes up a surprising amount of room. Richard has packed it all into three large gym bags.

Marco keeps a worried eye on his wife. Anne and her mother are sitting on the sofa together, Anne sheltering under her mother’s protective wing. Anne looks small and vulnerable. Marco wants Anne to be strong. He needs her to be strong.

He reminds himself that she is under enormous strain. More than he is, if that’s even possible. He is almost cracking from the stress of it all, and he knows what’s going on. She doesn’t. She doesn’t know that they’re going to get Cora back today; she has only her hope. He, on the other hand, knows that Cora will be back in their house within the next two or three hours. Soon all of this will be over.

Bruce will deposit Marco’s share of the money into the offshore account as they planned. They will never have any contact with each other again. There will be nothing to link the two of them. Marco will be in the clear. He’ll have his baby back, plus the cash he needs.

Suddenly Anne thrusts her mother’s arm off her and stands up. “I want to come with you, ” she says.

Marco looks at her, startled. Her eyes are glassy, and her entire body is trembling. The queer way she’s looking at him—for just a second he wonders if she has figured it out. Impossible.

“No, Anne, ” he says. “I’m going alone. ” He adds firmly, “We already talked about this. We can’t be changing plans now. ” He needs her to stay behind.

“I can stay in the car, ” she says. He hugs her tight, whispers into her ear. “Shhhhh. . . it’s going to be all right. I’ll come back with Cora, I promise. ”

“You can’t promise. You can’t! ” Her voice rises shrilly. Marco, Alice, and Richard look at her with alarm.

He holds her until she calms down, and for once her parents stand back and let him be a husband. Finally he releases her, looks into her eyes, and says, “Anne, I’ve got to go now. It will take me about an hour to get out there. I’ll call you on my cell as soon as I have her, okay? ”

Anne, calmer now, nods, her face tight with tension.

Richard goes with Marco to load the money into the car, which is parked in the garage. They take the bags through the back door, put them in the trunk of Marco’s Audi, and lock it.

“Good luck, ” Richard says, looking tense. He adds, “Don’t hand over the money until you get the baby. It’s the only leverage we’ve got. ”

Marco nods and gets into the car. He looks up at Richard and says, “Remember, no police until you hear from me. ”

“Gotcha. ”

Marco doesn’t trust Richard. He’s afraid that Richard will call the police as soon as Marco has left. He has instructed Anne to keep Richard in her sight at all times—he whispered a reminder in her ear just now—and not to let him call the police until she hears that Marco has Cora. By the time he calls, Bruce will be long gone. But Marco is still worried. Anne doesn’t look like she’s functioning properly; he can’t rely on her. Richard could go to the kitchen and make the call on his cell, and she might not even notice. Or Richard might just call the police in front of her once he’s out of the house, Marco thinks uneasily. She wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Marco pulls the car out of the garage and down the lane and begins the long drive to the rendezvous point. He’s approaching the ramp for the highway when he goes cold.

He’s been incredibly stupid.

Richard could already have told the police about the exchange. They could be watching the whole thing. They could all be in on it except Anne and him. Would Alice allow that? Would Richard even tell her?

Marco’s hands start to sweat on the wheel. His heart is pounding as he tries to think. Richard had argued to have the police involved. They’d overruled him. When has Richard ever allowed himself to be overruled in his life? Richard wants Cora back, but he’s the kind of man who hedges his bets. He’d want the possibility of recovering his money, too. Marco feels sick.

What should he do? He can’t call Bruce. He has no way to do that, since Bruce isn’t answering his cell. Now he’s probably dragging Bruce right into a trap. Marco’s shirt is already sticking to his back as he hits the highway.

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