by Shari Lapena
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.
EIGHTEEN
Marco tries to calm himself, breathing deeply as he drives, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
He could take his chances and go to the exchange as planned. Maybe Richard hasn’t told the police. Cora will be sitting inside the abandoned garage in an infant car seat. He will grab her, leave the money, and run.
But if Richard has alerted the police, then what? Then, as soon as Marco grabs Cora, drops the money, and flees, Bruce will show up for the money and the police will grab him. What if Bruce talks? Marco will go to jail for a very long time.
He could abort. He could turn around and not show up at the exchange at all and hope Bruce sends him another message through the mail. But how would he explain that to the police? How could he not show up as arranged to pick up his own kidnapped baby? He could have car trouble, he could get there too late, miss the window. Then, if Bruce got in touch again, Marco could try again and not tell Richard the details. But there was no way Richard would let Marco keep all that cash with him in the meantime. Fuck. He couldn’t do anything without his father-in-law knowing about it, because Alice lets him control the money.
No, he has to get Cora today. He has to go and get her. He can’t let this drag out any longer, no matter what.
With his mind spinning, a half hour has sped by. He is halfway there. He has to make a decision. He checks the time, gets off the highway at the next exit. He pulls over to the side of the road, puts his flashers on, and picks up his cell, his hands shaking. He calls Anne’s cell.
She answers immediately. “Do you have her?” Anne asks anxiously.
“No, not yet, it isn’t time yet,” Marco says. “I want you to ask your father if he’s told the police about this.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Anne says.
“Ask him.”
Marco hears voices in the background, and then Anne comes back on the line. “He says he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t tell the police. Why?”
Should he believe Richard? “Put your father on the phone,” Marco says.
“What’s going on?” Richard says into the cell.
“I need to be able to trust you,” Marco says. “I need to know you didn’t alert the police.”
“I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t.”
“Tell me the truth. If the police are watching, I’m not going. I can’t take the risk that he might smell a trap and kill Cora.”
“I swear, I didn’t tell them. Just go get her, for Christ’s sake!” Richard sounds almost as panicked as Marco feels.
Marco hangs up the phone and drives.
• • •
Richard Dries paces his daughter’s living room, his heart knocking against his ribs. He glances at his wife and daughter, hunched together on the couch, and quickly looks away again. He is on edge and intensely frustrated with his son-in-law.
He has never liked Marco. And now—for Christ’s sake—how could Marco even think about not going to the rendezvous? He could blow everything! Richard takes another worried look at his wife and daughter and keeps pacing.
He can at least understand why Marco might think Richard has called the police. From the beginning, when Marco insisted they not tell the cops, Richard had taken the opposite stand—he’d argued for telling them about the exchange, but he’d been overruled. He'd told them that five million dollars is a lot of money, even for them. He’d told them that he wasn’t convinced that Cora was still alive. But he’d also said that he wouldn’t tell the police, and he has not. He hadn’t expected Marco to doubt him at the last minute and put everything at risk by not going to the exchange.
He’d better fucking show up. There is too much at stake here for Marco to lose his nerve.
• • •
Thirty minutes later Marco arrives at the designated spot. It’s a half hour outside the city by highway, and almost another thirty minutes northwest, up a smaller highway and then off a desolate rural road. They’d chosen an abandoned farm property with an old garage at the end of the long driveway. Marco drives up to the garage and parks the car in front of it. The garage door is closed. The place appears to be deserted, but Bruce must be somewhere nearby, watching.
Cora will be in the garage. Marco feels light-headed—this nightmare is almost over.
Marco gets out of the car. He leaves the money in the trunk and walks up to the garage door. He grabs the handle. It’s stiff, but he gives it a good tug. The door goes up with a loud rumble. It’s dim inside, especially after coming in from the bright sunlight. He listens intently. Nothing. Maybe Cora is asleep. Then he sees an infant car seat resting on the dirt floor in the far corner with a white blanket draped over the handle. He recognizes the blanket as Cora’s. He rushes over to the car seat, reaches down, and pulls off the blanket.
The seat is empty. He stands up in horror, staggering backward. He feels as though the breath has been knocked out of him. The car seat is here, her blanket is here, but Cora is not. Is this some kind of sick joke? Or a double cross? Marco’s heart is pounding in his ears. He hears a noise behind him and whirls around, but he’s not fast enough. He feels a sharp pain in his head and falls heavily to the floor of the garage.
When Marco comes to a few minutes later—he doesn’t know how many—he rises slowly to his hands and knees, then to his feet. He’s groggy and dizzy, and his head is thumping with pain. He stumbles outside. His car is still there, in front of the garage, the trunk open. He staggers over to look inside. The money—five million dollars—is gone. Of course. Marco is left behind with an empty car seat and Cora’s baby blanket. No Cora. His cell phone is in the car, on the front seat, but he can’t bear to call Anne.
He should call the police, but he doesn’t want to do that either.
He is a fool. He gives a bellow of pain and sinks to the ground.
• • •
Anne waits in a fever of impatience. She shrugs her mother off, wringing her hands in anxiety. What is going on? What is taking so long? They should have heard from Marco twenty minutes ago. Something must be wrong.
Her parents are agitated as well. “What the hell is he doing?” Richard growls. “If he didn’t go get her because he’s afraid I sent the police, I’ll throttle him with my own hands.”
“Should we call his cell?” Anne says.
“I don’t know,” Richard says. “Let’s give it a few more minutes.”
Five minutes later no one can stand the suspense any longer. “I’m going to call him,” Anne says. “He was supposed to get her half an hour ago. What if something went wrong? He would call if he
could. What if they killed him! Something terrible has happened!”
Anne’s mother jumps up and tries to put her arms around her daughter, but Anne pushes her away almost violently. “I’m calling him,” she says, and hits Marco’s number on speed dial.
Marco’s cell phone rings and rings. It goes to voice mail. Anne is too stunned to do anything but stare straight ahead of her. “He’s not answering.” Her whole body is shaking.
“We have to call the police now,” Richard says, looking stricken. “No matter what Marco said. Marco could be in trouble.” He pulls out his own cell and calls Detective Rasbach from his list of contacts.
Rasbach picks up on the second ring. “Rasbach,” he says.
“It’s Richard Dries. My son-in-law has gone to make an exchange with the kidnappers. He was supposed to call us at least a half hour ago. And he’s not answering his cell. We’re afraid something has gone wrong.”
“Jesus, why weren’t we told about this?” Rasbach says. “Never mind. Just give me the details.” Richard quickly fills him in and gives him the location of the exchange. They’ve kept the original ransom note. Marco had taken a photocopy to guide him.
“I’m on my way. In the meantime we’ll have local police get there ASAP,” Rasbach says. “We’ll be in touch.” Then he hangs up.
“The police are on their way out there,” Anne’s father tells her. “All we can do is wait.”
“I’m not waiting. You take us, in your car,” Anne says.
• • •
Marco is still sitting in the dirt, slumped against one of the Audi’s front tires, when the police cruiser pulls up. He doesn’t even lift his head. It’s all over now. Cora must be dead. He has been double-crossed. Whoever has her has the money; there’s no reason to keep her alive now.