“That video Joe sent you. You did receive it.”
“Almost threw it away, too. Then I thought, what the hell, let’s see what’s on it. I recognized Carleton Wynne right away. Until I picked up the phone and called him, he didn’t even know the tape existed. He thought he was just chasing down a couple of whores. Suddenly this got much, much more serious. And more expensive.”
“He was actually willing to deal with you?”
“Wouldn’t you be? Knowing what this tape could do to you? Knowing there are other copies floating around out there?”
“Do you really think Wynne is going to let you live? Now that you’ve given him Joe and Olena? There’s nothing else he needs from you.”
The blond man cut in: “I’ll need a shovel.”
But Lukas was still looking at Jane. “I’m not stupid,” he said. “And Wynne knows that.”
“The shovel?” the blond man repeated.
“There’s one in the garage,” said Lukas.
“Get it for me.”
As Lukas walked toward the garage, Jane called out: “You’re a moron if you think you’re going to live long enough to enjoy any payoff.” Regina had fallen silent in her arms, stilled by her mother’s rage. “You’ve seen how these people play the game. You know how Charles Desmond died. They’re going to find you in your bathtub with your wrists slit. Or they’ll force a bottle of phenobarb tablets down your throat and dump you in the bay, like they did to Olena. Or maybe this guy will just put a bullet in your head, nice and simple.”
Lukas came back into the house, carrying a spade. He handed it to the blond man.
“How deep do those woods go, in back of the house?” the man asked.
“It’s part of Blue Hills Reservation. They go back at least a mile.”
“We’ll need to walk her in far enough.”
“Look, I don’t want anything to do with that. That’s what he pays you for.”
“Then you’ll have to take care of her car.”
“Wait.” Lukas reached behind the couch and came up holding the diaper bag. He handed it to the other man. “I don’t want any trace of her in my house.”
Give it to me, thought Jane. Give me my goddamn bag.
Instead, the blond man slung it over his shoulder and said: “Let’s take a walk in the woods, Detective.”
Jane turned to give Lukas her parting shot. “You’ll get yours. You’re a dead man.”
Outside, a half-moon glowed in a starry sky. Holding Regina, Jane stumbled through underbrush and saplings, her path faintly lit by the beam of the gunman’s flashlight. He was careful to follow at a distance, giving her no chance to strike out at him. She could not have, in any event, not with Regina in her arms. Regina, who had known only a few short weeks of life.
“My baby can’t hurt you,” Jane said. “She’s not even a month old.”
The man said nothing. The only sound was their footfalls in the woods. The snap of twigs, the rustle of leaves. So much noise, but no one was around to listen. If a woman falls in the forest, but no one hears her…
“You could just take her,” said Jane. “Leave her where someone will find her.”
“She’s not my problem.”
“She’s just a baby!” Jane’s voice suddenly broke. She paused there among the trees, clutching her daughter to her chest as tears flooded her throat. Regina gave a soft coo, as though to comfort her, and Jane pressed her face to her daughter’s head and inhaled the sweetness of her hair, felt the heat of her velvety cheeks. How could I bring you into this? she thought. There is no worse mistake a mother can make. And now you’ll die with me.
“Keep walking,” he said.
I’ve fought back before and survived, she thought. I can do it again. I have to do it again, for you.
“Or do you just want me to finish it here?” he said.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of trees and damp leaves. She thought of the human remains she had examined in Stony Brook Reservation a summer ago. How vines had snaked through the orbital fossae, hugging the skull in greedy tendrils. How the hands and feet were missing, gnawed off and carried away by scavengers. She felt her own pulse, bounding in her fingers, and thought of how small and fragile were the bones in a human hand. How easily they are scattered across a forest floor.
She began to walk again, deeper into the woods. Keep your head, she thought. Panic, and you lose all chance to surprise him. All chance to save Regina. Her senses sharpened. She could feel the blood pumping through her calves, could almost feel every molecule of air that brushed against her face. You only come alive, she thought, just as you’re about to die.
“I think this is far enough,” the man said.
They were standing in a small clearing. Trees encircled them, a dark ring of silent witnesses. The stars were cold glitters. None of this will change when I’m gone, she thought. The stars don’t care. The trees don’t care.
He threw the shovel at her feet. “Start digging.”
“What about my baby?”
“Put her down and start digging.”
“The ground’s so hard.”
“Like that matters now?” He tossed the diaper bag at her feet. “Let her lie down on that.”
Jane knelt, her heart now thumping so wildly she thought it would slam through her ribs. I have one chance, she thought. Reach in the bag, grab the weapon. Turn and squeeze off the round before he knows what’s happening. No mercy, just blow out his brains.
“Poor baby,” she murmured as she crouched over the bag. As she quietly slipped her hand inside. “Mommy has to put you down now…” Her hand brushed across her wallet, a baby bottle, diapers. My gun. Where is my goddamn gun?
“Just set the baby down.”
It’s not here. Her breath whooshed out of her in a sob. Of course he took it. He’s not stupid. I’m a cop; he knew I’d be carrying.
“Dig.”
She bent down to give Regina a kiss, a caress, then laid her on the ground with the diaper bag as a cushion. She picked up the shovel and slowly rose to her feet. Her legs felt drained of all energy, all hope. He was standing too far away for her to swing at him with the shovel. Even if she threw it, it would stun him only for a few seconds. Not enough time to pick up Regina and run.
She looked down at the ground. Under the light of the half-moon, she saw a scattering of leaves on moss. Her bed for eternity. Gabriel will never find us here. He will never know.
She planted the spade in the soil, and felt the first tears trickle down her cheek as she began to dig.
THIRTY-SIX
The door to his apartment was ajar.
Gabriel paused in the hallway, instincts prickling with alarm. He heard voices talking inside, and the sound of footsteps pacing across the floor. He gave the door a push and stepped in. “What are you doing here?”
John Barsanti turned from the window to face him. His first question took Gabriel aback. “Do you know where your wife is, Agent Dean?”
“Isn’t she here?” His gaze swung to the second visitor, who’d just emerged from the baby’s room. It was Helen Glasser from the Justice Department, her silver hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, starkly emphasizing the worried lines of her face.
“The bedroom window’s wide open,” she said.
“How did you two get in here?”
“Your building super let us in,” said Glasser. “We couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Where’s Jane?”
“That’s what we’d like to know.”
“She should be here.”
“How long have you been gone? When did you last see your wife?”
He stared at Glasser, unnerved by the urgency in her voice. “I’ve been gone about an hour. I drove her mother home.”
“Has Jane called you since you left?”
“No.” He started toward the telephone.