Marc shifted his weight on the sofa. “You can tell him I’m okay.”
“And I will. But it would be better if he saw you in person. That’s all. It’s your choice.”
He leaned back in the sofa, digesting my words.
Isabel came into the apartment, a stack of blankets in her arms. “This will have to do for tonight. I’ve got a bunch of blankets, Marc. You guys will have to sleep on the floor or the couch.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Thank you.”
Jessica emerged from the hallway, her hair wet and her face scrubbed clean. She wore a clean white T-shirt and navy sweatpants that swallowed her. She sat down on the couch next to Marc. She looked young, vulnerable.
“Better?” Isabel asked, setting the blankets down on the arm of the couch.
She nodded and yawned. “Yes. Thank you.”
“You need to sleep,” Isabel said. “Both of you. We can talk in the morning and figure out what you guys wanna do next.”
They both nodded, the weariness beginning to settle in over both of them.
“Come on,” Isabel said, grabbing the blankets. “We’ll get you both set up in the bedroom.”
Jessica stood and followed her to the bedroom.
Marc was slower to get up and I went over to give him a hand standing up. I steadied him with a hand under his elbow.
“I can make it,” he said. “I can see a little bit with the light in here. Hopefully the swelling will be gone soon. But thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He took two tentative steps toward the hallway, then stopped. He turned back to me, the ugly purple orbs where his eyes should have been trained on me.
“I can’t promise you anything,” he said. “I’m not sure I can go see him.”
“I understand,” I said. “I hope you can figure it out. He’d like to see you.”
He nodded, then headed to the bedroom to find sleep.
THIRTY-FIVE
The fatigue wouldn’t let me sleep.
I tossed and turned in my bed. Night gave way to dawn and my muscles ached as the adrenaline of the night wore off. But I couldn’t get comfortable and the more I wished I could fall asleep, the more awake I felt.
Being in Laser’s place had set the wheels in my head in motion. Not the good ones. All I could picture was Elizabeth some place similar, feeling like there was no better place, like that was her best option. It physically pained me to think of her in that kind of situation. Those girls walked out of the rooms like zombies and it was impossible not to see Elizabeth’s face in theirs.
I threw back the sheets, irritated that I couldn’t sleep. I pulled on my clothes and boots and walked outside.
The snow had finally stopped and I shaded my eyes against the brilliant white blanket that coated the roads and sidewalks. The snow crystals sparkled like diamonds in the early morning sunlight and it was as if the snow had muted all of the sound in the world, everything having gone silent for the moment.
I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs, biting, constricting.
A door creaked open and I glanced over to see Isabel stepping out of the office. She did the same thing I did, shading her eyes from the bright light. She saw me and trudged over, her boots sinking into the snow as she walked.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.
“How’d you know?”
“I always have trouble sleeping after the really long nights,” she said. “Always.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“When we left you in there last night…”
I shook my head. “Nothing happened. I made some threats, made sure they’d be afraid. That was it. Nothing bad.”
She nodded, squinting into the sunlight. “You seemed capable of…a lot. In there last night.”
“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean or wouldn’t have done,” I said. “If they’d put up any resistance, I would’ve hurt them.”
“I believe you,” she said. “I saw it in your eyes.”
“What they were doing to those girls was far worse than anything I could’ve done to them.”
“You could’ve killed them.”
“And if we hadn’t gotten to them last night, some of those girls might’ve wished they were dead,” I said. “I would’ve taken them out to help those girls. Not a hard choice for me.”
She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I guess. Regardless. Thank you. For all that you’ve done.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“You didn’t have to do anything. But you did. So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So. now what?”
“I need coffee,” I said.
She laughed. “I meant, big picture.”
I sucked in another lungful of cold air. “I’m gonna go see Codaselli. Tell him Marc’s okay. Then I’m waiting for a call from Tim Barron.”
We stood there silent for a moment, listening to the quiet.
“It seems unfair,” she said.
“What does?”
“Life,” she answered. “You find all of these people. You get them home. Or get them safe. But you can’t get the one thing you really want.” She paused. “It’s not fair.”
I swallowed. “It’s not. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Other than keep going.”
“Tim will call,” she said. “As soon as he has something, he’ll call.”
Cars were now crawling down the street, negotiating around the sloppy piles of snow the plows had moved out of the way and shoved to the curb. Their tires hissed and crunched against the icy powder.
“If he has something,” I said to Isabel. “And I’m used to ifs turning into nothing.”
THIRTY-SIX
Peter Codaselli crossed his legs at the knees and folded his bony hands together. “My son is alright?”
I’d left Isabel in search of coffee and after I’d found some, I drove over to Codaselli’s building. I was taken to his office immediately and we were in the same seats as before, Anchor at his spot at the conference table.
“He’s a little roughed up, but he’ll be okay.”
“Roughed up?”
“He was trying to protect the girl,” I explained. “He was outnumbered and they went to work on him. But he’ll be fine.”
Codaselli nodded, coughing. He held a fist to his mouth until the spasms subsided. “But he’s not with you.”
“No. He’s not.”
“May I ask why?”
“He’s an adult,” I said. “I can’t force him to go anywhere. If I put him in a car and brought him here, he’d be within his rights to call the authorities.”
Codaselli turned his head, his eyes toward the window. “Right.”
“I encouraged him to come see you.”
“And?”
“And I don’t know what he’ll do.”
He blinked several times. “Did you tell him about…my condition?”
“No. That’s not my place.”
“Will you tell me where he is?”
“He’s safe,” I said. “He’s probably asleep at the moment. Needs a shower and some more rest. But he’s safe.”
A thin smile spread across his face. “So, you won’t tell me.”
“I don’t think it’s the best idea.”
“And you know what’s best? For myself and my son?”
Anchor shifted in his chair, his elbow now perched on the tabletop.
“No, I don’t,” I said. “But I can tell you that I think if you give him some space, he’ll come. I think if you rush him, you’ll make it worse.”
He turned his eyes back to me. “Interesting. And would you do the same if you knew where your daughter was right this second?”
“Different set of circumstances.”
He shrugged his bony shoulders. “Perhaps. Unless I were to die this afternoon and he was still making up his mind. Then it would be slightly tragic, I think.”
He had a point. But I truly thought that having Anchor go pick him up would be a mistake. It would create hostility, more fighting, and he might not get the opportunity to tell his son anything.