SESSION ELEVEN

I can’t sit still right now. I have to keep moving, have to walk around. My legs ache with frustration, with the unbearable agony of waiting. It must be driving you nuts, my bouncing around your office. You should see me at home—I pace from window to window, pulling up blinds, dropping them back down. Sweep up dirt, only to abandon the half-filled dustpan in the corner. Put half the dishes into the dishwasher, then start doing laundry. I stuff my mouth with peanut-butter-laden crackers, then race upstairs to Google, find a thread of something on one site, and follow it from site to site until my eyes are blurry.

Next I call Evan, who tells me to do some yoga, go to the gym, take Moose for a walk, but instead I pick fights with him over stupid stuff—because that makes so much more sense.

I make notes, charts. I have graphs for my graphs. My desk is peppered with Post-its, rapid thoughts scrawled in a jerky hand. It’s not helping. I ignore work e-mails or barely answer. I’m trying to buy myself time on some projects, trying to hang on to it all, but I’m losing my grip on everything.

*   *   *

As soon as I got home after our last session, Billy and Sandy pulled into my driveway. When I opened the front door and saw their grave faces, my stomach flipped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s go inside,” Billy said.

“Tell me what’s going on first.” I searched his eyes. “Is Ally—”

“She’s fine.”

“Evan—”

“Your family’s all fine. Let’s go inside. Got some coffee?”

After I handed them theirs I leaned against the counter, the hard edge biting into my back, my clammy hands curled around the warm mug. Billy took a gulp of coffee; Sandy didn’t touch hers. She’d spilled something on her white shirt and her hair was a mess. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

I said, “Did he kill someone?”

Sandy looked at me hard. “A female camper was reported missing this morning from Greenstone Mountain Provincial Park near Kamloops. Her boyfriend was found dead at the scene.”

I dropped my coffee mug. It shattered and I watched coffee splash up on Sandy’s jeans. But she didn’t even glance down, she was still staring at me. None of us moved to clean it up.

My hands went to my face. “Oh, God. Are you sure? Maybe—”

“He’s the main suspect,” Sandy said. “The shell casings found at the scene are consistent.”

“This is my fault.”

Billy said, “No, it’s not, Sara. He made the choice.” But Sandy didn’t say anything.

“What are we going to do now? What about the girl?”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “Right now we’re searching the surrounding area for the female victim’s body.”

“You think she’s dead?”

Neither of them answered.

“What’s her name?”

Billy said, “We haven’t released that to the media yet—”

“I’m not the media. Tell me her name.”

Billy looked at Sandy, who turned to me and said, “Danielle Sylvan. Her boyfriend was Alec Pantone.”

My mind filled with images of a young woman fleeing through the bushes, John chasing after her with a rifle in his hands. I wondered when I’d get her doll.

I stared down at the broken mug, the pool of coffee.

“What color’s her hair?”

They were both silent. I looked up. Dread passed over me.

“What color is her hair?”

Billy cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Sandy told me.

“Auburn—long and wavy.”

The room spun. I gripped the back of the counter with my hands. Billy stood up and in one big step was at my side, clasping my shoulders.

“You all right, Sara?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want to get some air?”

“No.” I took a couple of breaths. “I’ll … I’ll be okay.”

Billy leaned against the counter beside me. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he massaged his biceps through his black windbreaker over and over. From across the table coils of anger radiated off Sandy.

I turned to her. “You think it’s my fault.”

She said, “It’s no one’s fault. He’s a killer, we never know what’s going to set him off.”

“But he’s never killed this early before—never in May.”

She stared at me. Her eyes were bloodshot and the pupils dilated, turning the cool blue almost black. Her skin looked windburned.

I said, “You think because I didn’t answer his calls he went out and killed someone.”

“We don’t know what—”

“Just say it, Sandy—admit you think it’s my fault.”

She gazed at me steadily. “Yes, I think having his calls ignored triggered him to find a victim. No, I don’t think it was your fault.”

For a moment I felt victorious—I’d forced her to admit what she was really thinking—then the horror of the situation washed back over me.

I turned to Billy. “How old were they?”

“Alec was twenty-four and Danielle twenty-one.” Twenty-one. I thought of their parents getting the news and pressed the heels of my hands hard into my eyeballs.

Block it out. Block it out.

“What do we do now?”

Billy said, “We’re not getting a signal from his cell phone, but just in case, we’d like you to try to call him again.” He took my cell off its charger on the counter and handed it to me.

Before I started to dial I said, “How am I supposed to act?”

Billy said, “Good question. You should have a plan before you—”

Sandy said, “Just start off expressing how sorry you are, show lots of remorse, then gauge his reaction. Wait and see if he brings up anything, but don’t say you know about the woman. It won’t hit the news until tonight.”

I glanced at Billy for confirmation and he nodded, but his neck was flushed. He didn’t look at Sandy and I wondered if he was pissed she had interrupted him.

As I dialed John’s number Sandy’s hand curled into a fist on the table. Her nails were chewed to the quick. John’s phone was off.

I shook my head.

Sandy stood up. “We’re going to fly out to Kamloops this afternoon. Keep trying to reach him. We’ll call you if we learn anything further from the crime scene.”

I walked them to the door. “She could still be alive?”

Billy’s face was tense. “Of course, and we’ll try our best to find her.” But I saw it in their eyes—they were going to Kamloops to find a body.

*   *   *

That night I tossed and turned for hours, thinking about everything Sandy had said. My guilt segued into anger when I thought more about the police—why hadn’t they staked out all the parks? They knew he was in the area. But when I got out of bed and Googled, I learned the park was one hundred and twenty-four hectares. How were they ever going to find her? How were they going to find him?

I called John several times, but his phone was never on. I thought of what I’d say if he did answer. Why did you do it? Did she die quickly? It was the second question that haunted me the most. I could taste Danielle’s fear. It gnawed at my skin, burrowed into my muscles, screamed in my head: You did this!

Evan called that night after Ally was in bed and I cried through the entire phone call. I tried my best not to sound blaming, but it leaked out when I said, “You’d been giving me a hard time about checking my phone all the time, so I was trying to just relax and have fun like you said, and—”

“I didn’t know he’d—”

“I told you, but you kept saying I was worrying too much and now two people are dead.”

“Sara, I was just trying to help you—you’re my priority, not him. And it’s awful what he did, but it’s not your fault. You do see that, right?”

“If I’d answered the phone, they’d still be alive.”

“And if you went back in time and killed Hitler, millions of—”

“That’s not the same thing. I have no control over what happened then, but I could’ve stopped this.”

“All of this is outside of your control, but you’re going to blame yourself no matter what.”

“I wish you could understand why I’m so upset.”

“I do—it’s horrible what happened, and you’re taking it even harder because you get so involved in everything. But it stresses me out when you get yourself all worked up. You have to try to step back a little.”

“It’s not that simple, Evan. I can’t just close my eyes to everything like you.” I flinched at my harsh tone. Then waited out the silence that followed. Finally Evan broke it.

“I’m not the bad guy here.”

I groaned. “I’m sorry. This is just so awful and I miss you.”

“I miss you too—I’m coming home this weekend, okay?”

“I thought you have a big group.”

“I’ll call Jason in. You need me right now.”

“God, Evan. I want to tell you to stay, but I really do need you.” I rubbed my nose on my sleeve. “I keep seeing her face, you know, seeing her having fun with her boyfriend. Then John’s there—with a gun, and she’s watching her boyfriend get shot, then she runs away, and…” I was crying again now, trying to get my breath.

“Baby…” Evan sounded helpless. “You’ve got to stop thinking about stuff like that, please.”

“I can’t help it. I think about what if it was you, then I just—”

“Mommy?” Ally was at the top of the stairs.

I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice pleasant.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

Evan and I said our good-byes, then I washed my face in cold water, hoping Ally wouldn’t notice my puffy eyes. As I cuddled in bed with her, Moose at our feet, I stroked her hair and gently tickled her back. Then I thought of another mother out there who just found out her daughter was missing. I wondered what she did to soothe her to sleep when she was little. I wondered what this woman would think if she knew her daughter was gone because my cell was on vibrate.

*   *   *

When Ally drifted off, I eased out of her bed. Moose’s head popped up, but I motioned for him to stay and he dropped it back onto Ally’s Barbie quilt. In my office I pulled up Google and typed in “Danielle Sylvan.” I hoped there wouldn’t be anything, but I found an article in the paper where she’d volunteered for a literacy program. The photo of her face beaming as she held out an armful of books to some children just about killed me. The deep red of her hair was vibrant against her pale skin. I imagined that skin even paler in death, and my stomach flipped. I sent the article to Billy, knowing he had a BlackBerry and would get it instantly. My message said, Did you find her? I waited and waited—hitting send/receive every second. Finally, ten minutes later, he answered: Not yet.

I turned off the computer and climbed into bed, cell on the night table. I tossed and turned for hours.

It’s your fault, all your fault. Your fault.

*   *   *

The next morning Ally was cranky: “I don’t want to wear my raincoat.” “I want to wear the blue socks, no, the yellow ones.” “When will Evan be home?” “Why can’t Moose come?” “I’m tired of cereal.” Finally I got her dressed and we were on our way. We were a mile from her school when my cell rang in my purse. Ally, who was singing in her seat and moving her head back in forth in time with the windshield wipers, began to sing louder. I reached into the console and grabbed my cell. As soon as I saw John’s number, I panicked.

“Ally Cat, this is an important client, so you have to be quiet, okay?”

She kept singing.

I raised my voice as the phone rang again. “Ally, that’s enough.”

She looked at me. “You’re not supposed to answer the phone while you’re driving, Mommy—it’s not safe.”

“You’re right, that’s why Mommy’s pulling over.” I quickly turned onto the soft shoulder of the road and stopped the Cherokee. “He really needs my help, so you have to be super quiet, okay?” Rain thundered down on us as Ally stared out the window, drawing shapes in the condensation. She was pissed at me, but at least she was quiet.

I answered the phone in a rush. “Hello?”

“Sara.” His voice was low and raspy. Like he’d been yelling.

I said, “I’m really sorry about what happened. I made a mistake, but it won’t happen again, okay? I promise.”

I held my breath and braced for a barrage, but he was silent.

So Ally couldn’t hear, I turned to the window and lowered my voice. “John, there was something about a missing woman on the news last night?”

He was still silent. In the background I could hear traffic, but there was another sound—a persistent thump. I strained my ears. Beside me Ally’s legs started to kick. Still waiting for John to answer, I flipped open the glove box and found a notepad and a pen. As I handed it to Ally, I motioned for her to draw me a picture. She ignored the pad and crossed her arms over her chest. I gave a warning look, and she stared out the window.

I said, “Are you still there?” The thump in the background was louder.

“You shouldn’t have ignored me. I needed you.”

“I’m sorry. But I’m here now. Can you tell me where she is?”

His voice was flat. “She’s with me.”

Hope surged—until I realized he didn’t say she was alive.

“Is she okay?”

Beside me Ally kicked at the dashboard. I grabbed her foot and gave another warning look. She pulled her foot out of my hand and started bouncing up and down in her seat. I clamped my hand down on the phone’s speaker. “Ally, stop it this minute or—or you’re not going to Meghan’s sleepover on Sunday.” Ally gave a shocked gasp and sat back in her seat.

On the phone John said, “I don’t know what to do.”

I had to say something fast. Think, Sara, think. He depersonalizes them. He doesn’t want to think of them as people. Make her real.

“The news said her name is Danielle. She has people who really care about her, John. Her parents, they just want her home, and—”

“I wanted you. The noise was getting bad—nothing was working. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

I glanced at Ally. She was drawing on the window again.

“Well, you can talk to me now, so you can let her go home, okay?”

His voice was flat. “It’s not that simple.” I cringed as I remembered saying the same thing to Evan.

“It is—you can do it. I know you can. You just have to take a step back and think about it for a minute.” The thumping stopped in the background. Was it Danielle? Had she passed out?

The rain had eased. Ally was still drawing on the window. I covered the speaker on the phone and said, “I’m just stepping outside for a minute, honey.”

Her eyes were wide. “Mommy, no. Don’t leave—”

“I’ll be right here.” I opened the door and stood at the side of the road, smiling at Ally through the window as I said to John, “You could blindfold her, then drive somewhere and just leave her on the side of the road.” In the vehicle Ally’s face was pinched. I drew little faces on the window. She unbuckled herself and crawled onto my seat. She started to smile as she drew teeth on my happy face.

John said, “It won’t work.”

It was starting to rain harder again. I was getting soaked as cars passed me.

“It will. By the time someone finds her you’ll be long gone. They’ll never catch you.”

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.” A loud smack, like he’d punched a wall.

“Are you okay?” All I could hear was heavy breathing. I tried a different tactic. “I know you don’t really want to hurt Danielle. I saw pictures of her on TV and she looked just like me. She’s someone’s daughter—you have to let her go.”

Silence.

“John?”

A click, then a dial tone.

*   *   *

I climbed back into the Cherokee and cranked the heat while I watched my windshield wipers swish back and forth. The cell phone was hot in my hand. Beside me Ally was saying something, but I couldn’t think straight. Was he killing her right now? Did I say something wrong? I should have—

“Mom! I’m going to be late for school.”

The phone was ringing again. “I know, sweetie, I’m sorry. Mommy just has to take this, then we’ll get going, okay?” She groaned beside me. I gave her a little smile, but my heart raced as I glanced down at the phone. It was Billy. I let out my breath. Ally was kicking at the dashboard and singing again, but this time I didn’t try to stop her.

“Billy, thank God.”

“We got a good signal off the call.” His voice was clipped. “He’s in Kamloops and we’re doing a sweep of the area—every available officer is on the road. But I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“She’s alive—I know it.”

I heard voices in the background, then Sandy was on the phone.

“If he calls again you have to try to keep him on the line as long as possible. Let him do the talking. If by any chance he hasn’t killed her, we want to keep it that way.”

“But what do I say? I’m scared I’ll say something wrong and he’ll—”

“Just proceed cautiously.”

“What does that mean? Do I ask about her or not?”

Sandy sighed. “Just stay calm when you’re talking to him. He needs to hear you care about him, that you’re interested in him, that you’re sorry. He probably felt rejected when you ignored his calls—”

“I didn’t ignore—”

“Sara, do you really want to argue over semantics? A woman’s life may depend on this next call. What are you doing right now?”

I gritted my teeth against all the ways I wanted to tell her off and simply said, “I have to drive Ally to school.”

“She’s with you?” Her voice rose.

“I was driving her to school, but he didn’t hear her.”

“If he finds out you never told him you have a child—”

“I don’t want that either, Sandy—she’s my first priority. And right now she’s late for school.”

“Drop her off, then call us.”

I bit out, “Fine.”

As I pulled back on the road Ally said, “Is the woman okay, Mommy?”

Still going over Sandy’s call in my head, I said, “What woman, honey?”

“The one you were talking about with your client. You said she was missing.”

Crap, crap, crap.

I tried to think back over what she might have heard. “Oh, she just got a little lost when she was walking home. But the police are going to find her soon.”

“I don’t like it when you talk on the phone so much.”

“I know, honey. And I really appreciate how good you were.”

She stared out the window.

*   *   *

In front of the school I got out and gave Ally a hug and a kiss. Her shoulders were slumped and her little face pinched. I pulled back and looked her in the eyes.

“Ally Cat, I know I haven’t been the best mommy lately, but I promise I’ll try harder, okay? This weekend Evan’s coming home and we’ll do something as a family.”

“With Moose too?”

“Of course!” I was relieved this earned a small smile at least. As Ally started to run to the doors of the school, she stopped and turned. “I hope the police find the lady who’s lost, Mommy.”

Me too.

As soon as I got home I called Billy. “What do you want me to do?”

“If he phones again, just remember what Sandy said, stay calm and let him talk. Don’t forget he’s calling because he’s trying to reach out. He’s in a highly emotional state and you seem to be the one person he feels can help him. He’ll probably call soon.”

But he didn’t. I paced around my house, then tried to work in my shop but couldn’t focus. So I drank countless cups of coffee—which didn’t exactly help take the edge off—and spent hours Googling serial killers, hostage negotiation, all the while thinking about what could be happening to Danielle. I e-mailed Web page after Web page to Billy, feeling calmer each time I sent something and each time he answered, even if it was just a quick message: You’re doing great, keep them coming. Then I thought about John, about how he said he couldn’t wait any longer, the pressure just built until he had to do something. The sudden realization that I understood exactly how he felt scared me more than anything.

*   *   *

Later that evening Ally and I were just sitting down to dinner when my cell rang. It was John.

Ally made a face as I got up from the table.

“I’ll just be a minute, sweetie. If you finish all your dinner we’ll watch a movie together after, okay? But you have to promise to be quiet as a mouse.”

She sighed but nodded and dug her spoon into her mashed potatoes.

I raced into the other room and answered the phone.

“John, I’m really glad you called back. I was worried.” I was still worried. I didn’t know if he was calling for help, or to tell me it was too late.

He didn’t answer.

“Is Danielle okay?”

“She won’t stop crying.” The frustration in his voice terrified me.

“It’s not too late. You can let her go. For me, please. She didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who messed up.” I held my breath.

He was quiet.

I said, “Can I talk to her?”

“That wouldn’t be good for you.” His tone was parental. A father telling his daughter she can’t have another cookie.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He sounded frustrated again.

“You don’t have to do anything right now. Do you want to talk for a little bit? You asked me what I like to eat the other day. I was wondering what kind of stuff you like. Are you allergic to anything?”

“No, but I don’t like olives?” His voice rose at the end.

“I’m not a fan of them either—or liver.”

He made a disgusted noise. “Liver is the body’s filtration system.”

“Exactly.” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “John, the other day you said the noise was getting bad. What did you mean? Is it bad now?” If I could figure out what the problem was, maybe I could use it to make him let Danielle go.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, no problem. I just wondered if it’s something you can get help for.”

“I don’t need help.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought if you talked to me about it, maybe I could help.”

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere.” He sounded exasperated. “I’ll call you another time.”

“Wait, what about Danielle—”

But he was gone.

*   *   *

I threw the cell onto the couch and put my head in my hands. The phone rang a minute later. I looked at the call display. It was Billy.

“Good work, Sara. He’s still in Kamloops, but we got a better location on him, so we’ve set up a couple of roadblocks on the main highway.”

“But if he sees a roadblock right after talking to me, won’t he suspect something?”

“We have counterattack vehicles set up so it just looks like we’re out to get drunk drivers. I think we’re close, Sara. I don’t think he wants to hurt her, but he doesn’t know what to do with her either. There’s a chance you can convince him to let her go.”

“Do you honestly think so, Billy? Do they ever let them go?”

“It depends on how much of a risk he thinks she is. But odds are in our favor. We just have to exploit the enemy’s dispositions to attain victory.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“You need to flatter him, convince him you think he’s a nice guy. That you know he’ll do the right thing. He wants to be your father. Treat him like one.” My stomach coiled in on itself and my guts cramped.

“I’ll try. I have to go—” I made it to the bathroom just in time.

*   *   *

But I didn’t hear from him again that night. Billy checked in later and told me the roadblock hadn’t turned up anything except a couple of impaired drivers. The next morning, Saturday, Evan came home. The minute he walked through the door I hugged him so tight he had to practically peel me off. As he unpacked I followed him from room to room, telling him everything that had happened, every conversation I’d had with Billy or Sandy since. I was keyed up, jumping at every noise and talking a mile a minute, but just knowing he was home and could distract Ally if John called again was a huge relief.

Ally hadn’t forgotten my promise to do something as a family that weekend, and she made sure she told Evan about it while he made us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. I’d already reassured her as soon as we woke up that we’d go to the park later, but she’d looked at me doubtfully. It didn’t help that I’d been on the phone all morning right up until Evan got home. First with Billy, then Lauren called. I hadn’t talked to her since we went shopping, so I had to chat for a bit or it would look odd, but acting normal on the phone took so much energy I was exhausted by the time I hung up.

After lunch we headed down to the seawall and Maffeo Sutton Park—Ally loves the playground there and we usually take her to the ice-cream parlor on the promenade. I did my best to enjoy some precious time with my family, but I kept taking out the cell in my pocket, making sure it wasn’t on vibrate.

When we got to the ice-cream parlor we ordered hot chocolates and a small bowl of ice cream for Ally, who insisted we get a bowl for Moose. We were sitting at an outdoor table near the marina, watching people walk past on the boardwalk with their baby carriages and dogs, when my cell rang. Evan froze and my stomach clenched, but when I saw who it was I mouthed, Billy, to Evan, who nodded and headed inside to the bathroom.

Billy told me they were now searching campsites and motels, hitting grocery stores and every gas station they could with John’s sketch, checking surveillance cameras. We hung up just in time for me to see Ally spill hot chocolate down her coat. As I walked toward the shop to grab a napkin, I heard my cell ring on the table.

I spun around.

Ally lifted the cell to her ear.

“Ally, no! Don’t answer it!”

I sprinted toward the table. I was almost there—my hands reached for the phone.

She said in a singsong voice, “Mommy can’t come to the phone right now ’cause she’s spending time with me,” and hung up.

She handed me the phone, then went back to eating her ice cream. I grabbed her shoulders and spun her toward me. She dropped her spoon.

“Ally, you’re never supposed to touch my phone.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “But you’re always talking on it.” The woman at the next table gave me a dirty look and whispered to her friend. I let go of Ally and flipped open my phone.

Evan ran out of the shop. “I heard yelling, what’s going on?”

I scrolled through received calls. Please, please, please let it have been Billy.

The last call was from John’s number.

Evan said, “Sara, what happened?”

I tried to answer, but I was frozen.

Ally sobbed. “I told the man Mommy was busy.”

Evan’s face paled as he looked at me. Hand over my mouth, I nodded. He tried to put his arm around me, but I shrugged it off.

“I have to think.”

Stop. Breathe. He might not have turned his cell off right away. He might be as shocked as I was.

I walked a few paces from Evan and Ally and dialed John’s number. I had to start over twice.

He answered on the first ring.

“John, I’m so sorry, but—”

He said, “You lied,” then hung up.

I turned and looked at Evan. He was sitting beside Ally with his arm around her shoulders. Our eyes met and I shook my head. He stood up and started to clear the table as he said something to Ally. They walked over to where I was leaning against the railing, my hand gripping the cold metal. Ally wouldn’t look at me.

Evan said, “Let’s head back to the car, your mom’s turning blue, Ally.”

I smiled at her and pretended to shudder as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. But she still wouldn’t look at me. As we walked toward the parking lot, Evan grabbed my hand in his and held tight. We stared at each other while Ally walked ahead with Moose on his leash. All I could think about was Danielle. Did I just sentence her to death?

I said, “Billy and Sandy will probably—”

My cell rang and my heart stopped. I grabbed it, looked at the call display, and let out my breath.

“It’s Billy.”

Evan said, “I’ll go ahead with Ally.” He caught up to her and took her hand. Following behind, I answered the phone.

“God, Billy, what are we going to do?”

It was Sandy. “Billy’s on the other line. What happened? How did Ally get the phone?”

“It was on the table, I just turned my back for a second.”

“Sara, we went over this. You knew if he caught you in a lie he’d probably kill Danielle.”

“I didn’t know Ally was going to answer it—she’s not supposed to, but I’ve been on it so much lately she just—”

“It shouldn’t have been out of your hands for a second.”

I raised my voice. “I’m going to hang up if you keep talking to me like this, Sandy.”

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice was calm.

“The calls came from Clearwater, which is north of Kamloops, but we’ll put a patrol car on your street tomorrow and have someone follow you when you leave.”

“You think he’s coming this way?”

“We don’t know where he’s going.”

My heart was going nuts in my chest. “What about Ally? She has school and—”

“Talk to her teachers, tell them there’s a custody issue. Make sure they know she’s not to go with anyone. Take her right to her class, and tell her to wait with her teacher until you pick her up. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“You don’t think—he wouldn’t hurt Ally, would he?”

“All we know is that he’s very angry and a woman’s probably dead by now because of this.”

“Stop blaming me, Sandy. Maybe if you were doing your job, he wouldn’t be calling in the first place. Why aren’t there more men on this?”

“We have every member of Serious Crimes on this now, but it’s a process—”

“Well, your process isn’t working.”

This time I hung up the phone and stalked toward the car with self-righteous anger spurring me on. But then I thought of Danielle and my mind filled with images of her dying on a forest floor, clawing at mounds of earth, begging for her life. And the truth burned like acid in my gut. It was my fault.

*   *   *

The ride home was silent, Evan’s face tense when he reached over and held my hand. Grateful for the warmth, I stared out the windshield, blinking back tears.

Evan said, “Do you think you should talk to your family?”

I shook my head. “Sandy would have a bird, but I don’t want to drag anyone else into this anyway.”

“They might start wondering why you’re so distracted.”

“They’re pretty used to me being obsessed about something. I’ll just say I’m busy with the wedding or behind with work, which I am.” Another wave of anxiety swamped me when I thought of all the e-mails I’d been ignoring.

“Maybe you should think about taking some time off.”

“I’ve spent years building my business—I can’t just drop everything.”

“You can build it back up.”

“I’m just a little behind—I can handle it.” I was a lot more than a little behind.

“Then maybe you and Ally should come up to the lodge with me for a while.”

“Ally’s already struggling in class. I can’t pull her out now. And the lodge is so remote. If anything happened up there…” I used to love going to Evan’s lodge and hanging out in Tofino: the West Coast hippie lifestyle mixing with five-star resorts, organic coffee shops with hemp-seed muffins, the rustic art galleries and kayak shops. But now all I could think about was the small police station, the hours of driving on a winding road through the mountains with no cell coverage.

“Then I’ll take some time off.”

I gave him a look. “And how are you going to do that? You just told me yesterday the lodge was booked for the rest of the summer.”

He groaned. “I hate not being here for you. I should be taking care of you and Ally.”

Even though Ally was in the back listening to Evan’s iPod, I lowered my voice.

“We’ll be fine. The police are watching the house and we have an alarm. Besides, you’ll be home for the next couple of days. But I can’t see him coming to the island—he always ignores me when he’s pissed off.”

“I want you to be extra careful.”

“No kidding.”

We lapsed into silence.

After a while I said, “Maybe he already let her go. You know, before he called.”

“Maybe.” Evan gave my hand a squeeze. But he didn’t look me in the eye.

*   *   *

That’s why I didn’t want to wait until Wednesday to see you. I couldn’t wait. All I’ve been doing is waiting. The whole weekend Evan and I watched the news religiously. We jumped out of our skin every time the phone rang, but my cell never went off except when Billy eventually called and told me the same stuff as Sandy, minus the part where she made me feel like I’d just signed Danielle’s death warrant. When I said everything felt totally out of control, he told me again to get a copy of that book he’s always quoting from. He said, “It’s the only thing that helps me when I’m worried about the investigation. I review the files and focus on strategies. ‘The skillful warrior does not rely on the enemy’s not coming, but on his own preparedness.’ I think of every possible scenario or direction the case might take, then I prepare for each event.”

I said, “Wow. When do you sleep?”

He laughed. “I don’t.” I was surprised because I figured him for the type to hit the sheets and be out in ninety seconds like Evan. It was nice to know I’m not the only one who gets obsessed and can’t sleep.

When I told him Evan was home for the weekend, he sounded relieved and told me to hang in there. I asked him when he was going to be back on the island and he said Monday, which is today, so I’m sure I’ll hear from him soon. Sandy’s staying behind. I guess until they find Danielle …

Evan stayed home as long as he could, even Sunday night, which is when he normally leaves. Poor guy had to get up at four this morning to head back to the lodge. We held each other at the door for a long time. After he left, I climbed into bed with Ally and snuggled next to her until it was time to get up for school.

I saw Danielle’s parents on TV a couple of times. Evan told me to stop watching, but I couldn’t. Her mom doesn’t look very old. Maybe she had Danielle when she was young like me with Ally. I wondered if she warned her to be careful before she left on her camping trip or if she told her to have fun.