“My bike won’t start and now I’m late.”
Marta looked interested. “For a date?”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “If I don’t get there soon, no.”
The door behind them opened again and John came down the wheelchair ramp. “What’s wrong?”
“Dr. J’s bike’s busted and she’s late for her date,” Bruce said.
John steered his chair around the crowd and leaned forward to peer at her engine. “Sugar.” He tapped her gas tank with one gloved finger.
“What?” Sophie leaned forward to immediately see that he was right. A dusting of sugar crystals around the gas tank sparkled in the light of the street lamps. “Dammit,” she hissed. “I swear to God that woman’s going to pay this time.”
“You know who did this?” Marta asked, wide-eyed.
That the saboteur had been Amanda Brewster was almost certain. “I have an idea.”
Bruce had his cell phone in his hand. “I’m calling campus security.”
“Not now. I will report this. Don’t worry,” she added when Spandan tried to protest. She unbungeed her backpack from the seat. “But I’m not going to wait around for them to come right now. I’m really late. It’s a good fifteen-minute walk to the restaurant.”
“I’ll drive you.” John asked. “I’ve got my van.”
“Um…” Sophie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll walk.”
John’s chin went up. “It’s equipped with hand controls. I’m a good driver.”
She’d offended him. “It’s not that, John,” she said hastily. “It’s just… I’m your teacher. I don’t want to appear improper.”
He angled her a look up through his ever-shaggy hair. “It’s a ride, Dr. J. Not marriage.” One side of his mouth lifted. “Besides, you’re not my type.”
She laughed. “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to Peppi’s Pizza.” She waved to the others. “See you Sunday.” She walked alongside his chair until they came to the white van he drove. He opened her door, then activated the lift for his chair. Capably, he swung his body out of the chair and behind the driver’s seat.
He saw her watching and his jaw tightened. “I’ve had lots of practice.”
“How long have you been in the chair?”
“Since I was kid.” His tone was clipped. She’d offended him again. Saying no more, he pulled the van out of the parking lot.
Unsure of what to say next, Sophie went for something she hoped was more neutral. “You missed the first part of class tonight. I hope nothing was wrong.”
“I got tied up at the library. I was so late that I almost didn’t come at all, but I needed to ask you about something. I tried to catch you after class, but you rushed out.”
“So you had an ulterior motive for offering me a ride.” She smiled. “What’s up?”
He didn’t smile back, but then John rarely smiled. “I have a paper due tomorrow for another class. It’s almost done, but I was having trouble finding primary references for one piece of it.”
“What’s the topic?”
“Comparison of modern and medieval theories on crime and punishment.”
Sophie nodded. “You must be taking Dr. Jackson’s medieval law class. So what’s the question?”
“I wanted to include a comparison of the medieval practice of branding with contemporary use of sex offender registration. But I couldn’t find any consistent information on branding.”
“Interesting topic. I can think of a few references that might help.” She dug in her backpack for her notebook and started writing. “When is your paper due?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
She grimaced. “Then you’ll need to use the online references unless the librarians work later than they used to. I know some of these are available online. The others might only be available through old-fashioned books. Oh, Peppi’s is right around the corner.” She ripped out the page and handed it to him as he pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. “Thanks, John. Good luck on your paper.”
He took the sheet with a sober nod. “See you on Sunday.”
Sophie stood still as he drove away, then held her breath as she scanned the lot for Vito’s truck. Slowly she let the breath out. He was still here.
This was it. She’d walk into that restaurant and… change her life. And suddenly she was scared to death.
Tuesday, January 16, 10:00
P.M.
Daniel sat on the edge of his hotel bed, exhausted. He’d been to more than fifteen hotels since breakfast and he was no closer to finding his parents. His parents were creatures of habit, so he’d started with their favorite hotels, the expensive ones. He’d gone on to the big chains. No one had seen them, or remembered them if they had.
Wearily he toed off his shoes and fell back against the mat-tress. He was tired enough to fall asleep like this, his tie still knotted and his feet still on the floor. Maybe his parents hadn’t come to Philadelphia after all. Maybe this had been a wild goose chase. Maybe they were already dead.
He closed his eyes, trying to think past the pounding in his temples. Maybe he should call the local police and check the morgues.
Or the doctors. Perhaps they’d been to one of the oncologists on the list he’d printed from his father’s computer. But no doctor would tell him anything. Patient confidentiality, they’d say.
The ringing of his cell phone startled him out of a near doze. Susannah.
“Hello, Suze.”
“You haven’t found them.” It was more a statement than a question.
“No, and I’ve walked all over town today. I’m beginning to wonder if this is really where they came.”
“They were there,” Susannah said, little inflection in her tone. “The call from Mom’s cell phone to Grandma’s was placed from Philadelphia.”
Daniel sat up. “How do you know that?”
“I called in a marker, had it traced. I thought you should know. Call me if you find them. Otherwise, don’t. Good-bye, Daniel.”
She was going to hang up. “Suze, wait.”
He heard her sigh. “What?”
“I was wrong. Not to leave. I had to leave. But I was wrong not to tell you why.”
“And you’re going to tell me now?” Her voice was hard and it pricked his heart.
“No. Because you’re safer if you don’t know. That was my only reason for not telling you then… and now. Especially now.”
“Daniel, it’s late. You’re talking in riddles and I don’t want to listen.”
“Suze… You trusted me once.”
“Once.” The single word rang with finality.
“Then trust me again, please, just on this. If you knew, you’d be compromised. Your career would be compromised. You’ve worked too hard to get where you are for me to drag you down for the simple purpose of unloading my guilty conscience.”
She was quiet so long he had to check to see if they were still connected. They were. Finally she murmured. “I know what your son did. Do you know, Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“And you want me to forgive you?”
“No. I don’t expect that. I don’t know what I want. Maybe to hear you call me Danny again.”
“You were my big brother, and I needed your protection then. But I learned how to take care of myself. I don’t need your protection now, Daniel, and I don’t need you. Call me if you find them.”
She hung up and Daniel sat on the edge of a strange hotel bed, staring at his phone and wondering how he’d allowed everything to become so completely fucked up.
Tuesday, January 16, 10:15
P.M.
“Honey, if you’re not going to order, you have to leave. Kitchen closes in fifteen.”