There was a long pause. “Then where is it?”
“We’ll bring it.”
“Besides, you really want to risk letting him get away? The guy who beat you, broke your fingers, threatened your wife?”
“You’ll bring it, huh?” Jack clicked his tongue. “I don’t know. That sounds like stalling. Are you stalling?”
“No. I’m not.”
“You’d better not. Because this morning I shot a cop. Do you know what that means?” His voice terrible. “It means that it doesn’t matter what I do now. I could set this baby on fire, and it wouldn’t matter, because I’ve already done something they will never, ever let me go for. Do you get it? I’m beyond consequences.”
“All right,” Tom said. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’d say the same thing either way.”
Her legs nearly gave. “I understand.”
“Good,” Jack said. “Smart choice.”
“Good,” Halden said. “Smart choice.”
The line went dead, but she stood still, holding the phone to her ear. Thinking of Sara and Julian, trapped and confused and very, very scared. The helplessness nearly brought tears to her eyes. To have to listen to him threaten her sister, her nephew, and be unable to do anything about it…
Forget the police, forget her and Tom walking away, forget that sweet half second of safety. There was no safety. Not for them. She knew that now.
They had to get away from Halden. But how? No way he was going to let them go now. They had to find a clever way to slip him. Some circumstance where he would leave them alone for a minute or two.
It came to her all of a sudden, and the irony was bitter enough to burn. To be really convincing, it would need them both. She closed her phone and put one hand on her stomach, praying Tom would understand.
HE WANTED ANOTHER CIGARETTE. Funny, fifteen months had been enough to reset his nicotine tolerance so that he had the tingling fingertips and pleasant light-headedness he hadn’t known since his first smokes a decade ago. But it hadn’t done a damn thing to quell his body’s desire.
Halden put his hands in his pockets. “Where’s the money?”
Tom hesitated. It was their last secret. “In a storage locker. Not far from the mall.”
“Okay. We’ll get it on the way into the station.”
Anna hung up the phone, turned to step back into the conversation. Her eyes raked his, and he thought he saw something there, but couldn’t make out what before she turned to Halden. She had a hand on her stomach, said, “Sorry about that. My sister. She’s got a little boy she’s starting to feed solid food. Apparently her kitchen is now coated in creamed zucchini.”
“Zucchini, huh?” Halden laughed. “Why do they make baby food out of the worst-tasting crap? I’d throw it too.”
Had he made a mistake telling the cop where the money was? Once it was in police custody, they had nothing to bargain with. Maybe they could-
Zucchini?
He looked at Anna again, saw her looking back. She was pale. Paler than the cold explained. Could it have been something from the phone call? She put the other hand on her stomach, winced.
“You okay, baby?”
“I’m feeling a little queasy.”
Halden turned to study her. “Nerves, probably. But you’re doing the right thing.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s-” She looked at Tom again.
Could it have been coincidence, her using their old code word, the one that signaled she needed a rescue? He stared at her. Something in her demeanor seemed almost to be pleading. Her hands moved on her belly again, and all of a sudden he knew what she needed.
“It’s morning sickness,” he said. The words strange on his tongue. Words he’d once looked forward to saying. The kind of phrase that marked a whole new phase of life.
“You’re pregnant?” The detective seemed surprised.
“Yes,” she said, trembling. Something terrible was happening.
“I don’t know why they call it morning sickness,” Tom said, remembering one of the half-dozen books they’d read. “Happens all day long.” He stepped forward, put a hand on her shoulder. “The bathrooms might be open.” Turned to Halden. “Do you mind? It’ll just be a minute.”
Halden shook his head. “Of course not.”
“Thanks,” Anna said, her face contorting again. She started walking, and Tom moved with her, his hands supporting her weight. They passed the food counter, metal shutters drawn, and turned the corner to the back, toward the bathroom. His thoughts pounded and tumbled, trying to imagine what could possibly have made her tell this particular lie.
HALDEN WATCHED THEM GO, Tom supporting her as they hurried past the concession building. When they rounded the corner, he turned and stared out at the lake. Smelled the air, listened to the rush of water, watched waves roll in. Savored the slow smile.
Goddamn, but he was one hell of a detective.
This would make him. Closing the Shooting Star case single-handed? He’d get the works: the press, the commendation, the immunity from shit work, the patrons up the ladder, the pay-grade jump. Be able to retire with a fat pension. Buy that cabin and spend the rest of his life reading and walking through the woods, far from the city and the shitheads that lived here.
He reached into his pocket, took out the cigarettes. Normally he limited himself to two a day, but a victory cigarette didn’t count. He fired it, dragged hard. The sound of gulls merged with a car engine heading away.
Anna being pregnant explained some things. He’d wondered why they’d taken the money, been a little pissed about it, in fact. It was dumb, tempting or not. He’d tried to tell them that, the day they’d sat drinking coffee at the kitchen table. But people did crazy things for their children. Funny, though, that she hadn’t mentioned being pregnant before, not even when she was talking about Jack breaking into their house, slapping her around. You’d have thought that would have been the first thing she’d think of, the health of her baby. And wasn’t coffee one of the things you were supposed to avoid when you were pregnant?
On the other hand, shitty parenting wasn’t something he was exactly unfamiliar with, his line of work. He’d seen many a mother suck the grocery money through a crack pipe.
Still. He turned away from the waterline. The bathroom entrances were on the other side of the concession building. And past that, a hundred yards or so, was the parking lot.
Halden threw the half-smoked cigarette in the sand, started forward, a walk that grew quicker with each step, dress shoes ringing off the concrete. He rounded the corner of the building, headed for the bathroom.
The door was closed. A heavy padlock dangled from the latch.
“No, no, no,” Halden said, turning fast, staring at the parking lot, remembering the sound of the engine driving away.
He felt a terrible heaviness settle on him. It was over. Forget bringing them in himself. Forget being the guy with all the answers, the hero cop that saved the day. They were on the run now, probably on their way out of town. It was time to call in the cavalry. And suffer all the consequences that came with that. He sighed, rubbed at his forehead.
What had happened to spook the two of them? Tom had been nervous about the lawyer question, but Halden couldn’t imagine them running for that. And Anna, she’d been on the phone with her-
Wait.
He sprinted for the car, thinking of the folder Lawrence Tully had given him at the steakhouse, all the personal information he’d collected on the Reeds. Bank statements, bills, credit history. Addresses and family members.
Fuck the cavalry. He could still pull this off.
“PLEASE,” the sister said. “Please, he’s scared.” Even by the murky light filtering through the closed blinds, he could see her eyes, wide as a girl in those Japanese comics.
Jack felt for her, he really did. No way he was going to hurt a baby, but she didn’t know that, and he couldn’t imagine what was going on in her head, the raw-veined panic of it. Still, this was the job, and sometimes the job was ugly. He set the phone down. “That was good,” he said. “You did good.”