How could I possibly find Elisa on my own? Was she with Will in the South Bronx? Or had she gone to stay with other friends, young women I didn’t even know about. According to Hannah, she had broken up with her college boyfriend in January. But—damn! I should have looked for her address book or other clues when we were in her room. Except, did she even have something so old-fashioned? Everything was probably on her phone. You should have taken her phone.
I thought about Nick and Micah Clancy then. Nick was vindictive enough to want to lash out at Elisa, deciding in his twisted way that she was to blame everything. If his mother had not been offered money to kidnap her, his mother would still be alive. I had been shocked to hear that both brothers were in New York. Right where everything was happening.
I told myself to calm down. Nick and Micah were here to film a TV series, not spend time kidnapping young women in Boston and Ithaca, and hiding them on yachts. That suggested a level of local knowledge and money that I doubted they possessed.
There was the sound of tires on the gravel outside. When it stopped I heard a car door slam. Colin had gotten my message.
I was surprised when he knocked on the door. Perhaps he thought I had locked up for the night. But when I crossed the room and pulled the door open, Frank Marselli was standing outside. He was dressed in a gray sweatshirt and jeans, and looked very grave.
“Oh, thank God, thank God” was all I could say. “Thank you so much for coming.”
He stepped inside and gripped my upper arms as if I had been about to swoon, his face close to mine. “Delhi, what is going on?”
“Oh, God, I don’t know. They’ve kidnapped Hannah and I don’t know what to do. Everything I do is wrong!” The tears that had been held back for days came gushing out. “It’s all so hopeless! Everyone is going to die!”
He pulled me closer for a moment, then moved back. “I’m here as a friend, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes. But you have to calm down. Do you have anything to drink?”
“There might be some beer in the refrigerator.” I sniffled. “I can check.”
“I mean for you.”
“There’s wine, but I need to stay alert.” My voice veered up in more panic.
“No, you need to get a grip. Go get yourself some wine.”
I gave him a death-mask smile. “Isn’t it supposed to be brandy?”
“Do you have brandy?”
“No.”
He waved me off.
In the kitchen I pulled a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from the cabinet, picked up two wineglasses, and went back inside. But when I started to pour one for him, he shook his head.
He must think it’s really desperate for him to come in person.
Instead of going back to the wing chair I sat down on the striped couch close to him and set my glass on the antique coffee table.
“This happened after you called me?”
I took a sip of wine and realized it had been in the cabinet for a while. “It really started yesterday when I couldn’t reach Hannah. I kept leaving messages on her phone. Then when I got home tonight I called the house where she lives and she wasn’t there. Someone who lives there told me these two men had come for her yesterday morning. I tried her number once more and this time she called me back.” I tried to remember exactly what Hannah had said, taking more slow sips of the Cabernet as if it were medicine. It helped a little. “They said they wanted me to find Elisa; evidently she ran away from them. Then we’d ‘trade.’ But what if I can’t find her and they—hurt Hannah?” My voice was getting shaky again.
Frank put his hand over mine and patted it the way you would to reassure an upset child. “It’s not in their interests to hurt Hannah.”
“You don’t know Sheila Crosley. She’d do anything to get back at me!”
“Delhi, she’s dead. She’s lying in the morgue. The bodies are just too close to theirs to be anyone else’s.”
“Then these people are their killers. Maybe they want to kill Elisa too!”
But they’d had the chance, a voice reminded me, and they didn’t.
“How did they leave it with you?” Frank asked briskly.
“I’m supposed to find Elisa. They’ll be in touch.”
“You’re sure it was Hannah you spoke to.” His hazel eyes watched me gravely.
“It sounded like her. And those men took her from Cornell.”
“Do you have any idea where Elisa might be?”
I collapsed back on the couch. “No! Like I said, she might have called Hannah from Will’s phone. I guess she could be with him. Did I tell you what her text said? Something like, ‘I’m okay. Be careful.’ So she knew they were looking for her.”
“Okay. I’ve requested those printouts of Hannah’s phone log so we can check the 917 number.” He moved to stand up. “We’ll have them in the morning.”
No, don’t go! I can’t be alone here! “Can’t we get them now?”
“It takes a few hours. You need to get some sleep. It’s going to be fine.” He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, then stood up. I got up too. “Come to my office in the morning. I’ll be there from eight on.”
I closed my eyes against the terror. “I don’t know if I can do this!”
He did something then that I never would have expected. He reached out and held me tightly against him for a moment as if trying to impart the confidence he felt. “You’re a strong woman, Delhi, you’ve been through a lot of stuff. It’s going to be okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
THERE WAS NO way I could imagine sleeping. Sleeping implies that your well-being is more important than the crisis you are involved in, that it can safely be ignored for a few hours. That was not the case here. At midnight I tried calling Colin again, but his phone went right to voice mail. The last time this had happened was when the police had confiscated his phone. Had something happened that Frank had not told me about?
I had to find out. Now. Slipping on a hoodie against the night air, I half ran to my van and drove to his condo. The stars seemed far away, as indifferent as if they had seen this kind of crisis too many times before, as if they were tired of what happened on earth. I had felt the same in Stratford-upon-Avon last December, sitting in front of the fireplace in a three-hundred-year-old inn. Starting at the flames I imagined all the people who had sat there before me, their lives even more difficult than mine. We had been given stony soil and told to create a garden anyway. So we tried.
When I pulled into a space in front of number 47 next to Colin’s BMW, I was relieved to see he wasn’t on the road to some faraway place. But if he was here and okay, why hadn’t he answered his phone? What fresh hell is this? Climbing the fieldstone steps, I pressed the buzzer for a long moment.
Nothing. Then the light beside my head flared on. A moment later, the black enameled door opened. Colin stood there in a navy T-shirt and briefs, staring at me.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I demanded.
“My—oh, God, I forgot to turn it back on” He closed his eyes at his own forgetfulness. “I shut off the ringer for a graduate seminar and didn’t think of it again.”
“I didn’t know where you were!”
He pulled the door wider and I stepped inside. “Where did you think I was?”
“I don’t know. On your way to Mexico?” I tried to make it into a joke, but my voice sounded shaky.
“I don’t have my passport, remember?”
Had the thought of flight actually crossed his mind?
“What’s happened?” He took my upper arm and pulled me into the tasteful Asian setting.
I sank into a black lacquered chair, too weak to stay on my feet any longer.
Colin sat down opposite me on the couch. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s Hannah. I hadn’t been able to
reach her since Sunday night. Then when I called her house tonight, it sounded as if she was being—detained.”
Tell him the truth. It’s his daughter and she’s in terrible trouble! But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say the words “kidnapped” or “hostage.”
“Detained?” He frowned at the formal word, a word with political overtones. “Detained by who?”
“I don’t know! Whoever it is had Elisa. She ran away from them, and now they want her back. They think she came to us. So if we give her up to them, they’ll exchange her for Hannah.”
“Delhi, you’re not making sense.”
“I already talked to the police. Frank Marselli. He’s going to find Elisa in the morning and get Hannah back.”
I could see that Colin was trying to process what I was saying. Probably he had been asleep. “But what if Elisa’s not willing? You said she already ran away from them once?”
I was haunted by what Hannah had said. They’re so mad at her. I’m afraid they’ll hurt her!
But I pushed it away. “It’ll only be for a few minutes, the police won’t let them keep her. They’ll arrest whoever it is as soon as Hannah’s safe.”
“Hannah’s supposed to graduate Sunday,” Colin said as if it had just occurred to him. “We’re going up to Ithaca.”
I nodded.
He bowed his head, hand shielding his eyes. “Dear God, will this ever end?”
I STAYED AT Colin’s condo for the rest of the night. He retreated to his bedroom and I lay on the couch, but I was filled with a dread so deep I felt frozen there. If I lifted my face, the brocade upholstery would come away too. It had been a terrible tragedy to have your child drown at two years old—or believe that she had—but it was unthinkable to lose a daughter at twenty-one. You had spent nearly half your life with her, knew her plans and dreams, the life she deserved to live. In both cases, my fault. Yes, I had been tricked in Stratford, but if I hadn’t been inattentive it couldn’t have happened. This time I had underestimated Ethan and Sheila Crosley again and the lengths to which they would go to have what they wanted.
Had Elisa finally recognized them as the criminals they were and wanted no part of them? Or was it that she was refusing permanent exile, a life of having to move from country to country no matter how luxurious the surroundings? Because if they were alive, the Crosleys would be guilty of far more than an ancient kidnapping and murder in England. Ethan was facing charges of antiquities theft and counterfeiting as well as the murders in Southampton. This time there would be concerted efforts to track them down.
And if the worst happened—if Frank was unable to protect Elisa—could I justify sacrificing her for Hannah? It was true that they were equally my daughters, but lying in that dim room that might have been in China, I couldn’t escape the difference. I had no history with Elisa. She didn’t need me the way Hannah did. I pushed the question aside. I had to concentrate on not letting that happen.
Get some sleep. I pushed up off the couch and moved toward the door of what I thought was Colin’s bedroom. The door was not fully shut and I pushed it gently.
“Delhi?”
“Yes.”
He threw back the covers of the double bed and I climbed in next to him. Then we were holding each other. Not moving, just holding on tightly as if only together would we be able to face whatever was coming.
WE GOT UP around 6 a.m. and Colin went into the tiny kitchen to make coffee. He brought two cups out and sat across from me, this time in the ebony chair. I leaned forward on the sofa and faced him. If the English are strengthened by a cup of tea, coffee does it for me. With the first sip of its dark promise I felt more hope—not anything like calmness, but as if there was a chance for this not to end in more tragedy.
“I’m coming with you,” Colin said. “To the police.”
“Do you think—I mean, they still have a case against you.” I waved my hand, helpless. Don’t draw attention to yourself!
Colin set down his cup. “Do you think I’m just going to go about my day, teaching and acting normal, when Hannah is missing? What do you think I am?”
“It’s not that. It’s just—okay, come if you want. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
But he was shaking his head. “Well, they can’t blame me for this. If it means Ethan and Sheila are alive, there goes their whole case. If someone else is responsible, same thing.”
“If they believe it’s them.” Carew had scoffed at my theory about the Crosleys faking their own deaths; why would she believe my claim that they had “kidnapped” my adult daughter? Like an icy hand reaching out to grasp my wrist, I realized that I had nothing to corroborate the story, not even an e-mail. They had made Hannah call me using her own phone. They had sent nothing over the Internet.
If Frank hadn’t known me, the police might have thought this was a ploy we had concocted to shift the blame from Colin to someone unknown. They might not even have investigated! I imagined myself going in cold and trying to convince Carew that something had happened to Hannah. I shivered and took another sip of coffee.
Colin was nodding grimly. “Stanton says I’m still their prime suspect. God knows what else they’ll try to come up with. They just want to close their fucking cases any way they can. No wonder so many prisoners were released when they started using DNA. Okay, I’ll stay away but leave my phone on. You’ll call me as soon as there’s anything.”
“Of course.”
It was still too early to go to Frank’s office.
Colin gestured at the flat-screen TV. “Put on the news if you want.”
The news? How could I watch the news? I had no room left for any more tragedy.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
FRANK MARSELLI’S OFFICE was located in Hauppauge, a name that most outsiders routinely mispronounce as Hap-a-gue rather than Hop-og. Hauppauge is more of an idea than a physical town, a place that Gertrude Stein would have characterized as having “no there there.” The low-lying brick buildings that hold the police offices are on Nesconset Highway, another Indian name, though one more easily pronounced.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I felt as if I had been awake for hours, running for miles. A white buzz circled my head, a sensation that took me back to sleepless nights with squalling babies that had left me sleepwalking through the next day. How could I face today’s challenges if I was not alert? I’d left Colin’s condo early and gone home to take a shower and put on fresh clothes, black jeans and a pale green cotton blouse. Even as I’d outlined my mouth in soft pink lipstick, I’d thought what a silly thing that was to do. Yet if I looked confident and prepared, it might help me act that way.
I went through the formalities of admission in the lobby on autopilot, not remembering afterward how I had gotten to Frank Marselli’s office. It was as utilitarian as I remembered, though the photo of the two grinning boys in Cub Scout uniforms tape to a metal cabinet door seemed new. They were adorable towheads. I knew nothing about Frank’s personal life except that he was divorced.
Frank was already behind his desk, papers fanned out in front of him when I burst in. I think I was hoping that the problem might have resolved itself overnight, that Frank would have magically gotten the answers we needed while I slept. But as I sat down in the chair opposite him, I knew that couldn’t be true.
He looked up and smiled sympathetically. “You doing okay?”
“Better. I guess. You didn’t find out anything?”
“You’ll be interested in this.” He glanced down at what looked like pages from a fax machine. “We heard from Rhode Island about the DNA.”
I jerked back. No amount of makeup and clean clothes could have kept my stomach from clenching. A drawstring pulled it excruciatingly tight. What was I afraid of? Nothing—except everything. Was I ready to know who the enemies I was facing were?
“T
hey got a court order to collect DNA in the house, so they went there yesterday afternoon. The house was empty.”
Well, not a total surprise.
“I mean, it was completely empty. No furniture, no dishes, nothing even to take evidence from like hairbrushes or toothbrushes. No coffee mugs in the sink. The Crosleys told their next-door neighbor they would be traveling for the next few months and were putting everything in storage.”
“Where’s the stuff now?”
“Good question. But all the surfaces were wiped clean. The guys who went in said you could smell Clorox a mile away.”
I remembered what Mairee had said about Sheila’s mania for having everything spotless. “What does Ruth Carew think?”
The twist of his mouth at her name told me nothing. “She doesn’t think it’s that unusual. She still doesn’t believe the Crosleys could have found substitutes to match them. The size of the bodies is very close to the height and weight of the DMV information. To say nothing of Dr. Crosley’s medical condition, the heart stents.”
That was where my theory broke down. “But she can’t still be blaming Colin.”
“She can believe whatever she wants, it’s her case. The first case she’s handled on her own. I may not agree with her, but she gets a lot of things right.”
“But why is she so sure it’s him?”
Frank gave the pages the slightest shake, the sound of a mouse crossing the desk.
“She likes the way the facts fit.”
“But what about people like Nick and Micah Clancy? Or Will Crosley? If the FBI was closing in on Ethan, there have to be other people who were afraid he’d implicate them. Besides, she can’t blame Colin for kidnapping his own daughter.”
“She doesn’t know yet; she hasn’t come in. No doubt she’ll point out that we have no objective proof that a kidnapping actually occurred. There’s only your word for it.”
I jerked as if my chair had been electrified. “Can she stop it?”
“Easy, Delhi. Of course not. I’m treating Hannah’s kidnapping as a new investigation. This is my case. I have Hannah’s phone log, we put a rush on it and requested Will Crosley’s records, which just came in. There’s been no activity in the last twenty-four hours.”
A Bookmarked Death Page 16