A Bookmarked Death (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

F
RANK
M
ARSELLI
’
S
OFF
ICE
was located in Hauppauge, a name that most outsiders routinely mispronounce as Hap-a-gue rather than Hop-og. Hauppauge is more of an idea than a physical town, a place that Gertrude Stein would have characterized as having “no there there.” The low-lying brick buildings that hold the police offices are on Nesconset Highway, another Indian name, though one more easily pronounced.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I felt as if I had been awake for hours, running for miles. A white buzz circled my head, a sensation that took me back to sleepless nights with squalling babies that had left me sleepwalking through the next day. How could I face today’s challenges if I was not alert? I’d left Colin’s condo early and gone home to take a shower and put on fresh clothes, black jeans and a pale green cotton blouse. Even as I’d outlined my mouth in soft pink lipstick, I’d thought what a silly thing that was to do. Yet if I looked confident and prepared, it might help me act that way.

I went through the formalities of admission in the lobby on autopilot, not remembering afterward how I had gotten to Frank Marselli’s office. It was as utilitarian as I remembered, though the photo of the two grinning boys in Cub Scout uniforms tape to a metal cabinet door seemed new. They were adorable towheads. I knew nothing about Frank’s personal life except that he was divorced.

Frank was already behind his desk, papers fanned out in front of him when I burst in. I think I was hoping that the problem might have resolved itself overnight, that Frank would have magically gotten the answers we needed while I slept. But as I sat down in the chair opposite him, I knew that couldn’t be true.

He looked up and smiled sympathetically. “You doing okay?”

“Better. I guess. You didn’t find out anything?”

“You’ll be interested in this.” He glanced down at what looked like pages from a fax machine. “We heard from Rhode Island about the DNA.”

I jerked back. No amount of makeup and clean clothes could have kept my stomach from clenching. A drawstring pulled it excruciatingly tight. What was I afraid of? Nothing—except everything. Was I ready to know who the enemies I was facing were?

“They got a court order to collect DNA in the house, so they went there yesterday afternoon. The house was empty.”

Well, not a total surprise.

“I mean, it was completely empty. No furniture, no dishes, nothing even to take evidence from like hairbrushes or toothbrushes. No coffee mugs in the sink. The Crosleys told their next-door neighbor they would be traveling for the next few months and were putting everything in storage.”

“Where’s the stuff now?”

“Good question. But all the surfaces were wiped clean. The guys who went in said you could smell Clorox a mile away.”

I remembered what Mairee had said about Sheila’s mania for having everything spotless. “What does Ruth Carew think?”

The twist of his mouth at her name told me nothing. “She doesn’t think it’s that unusual. She still doesn’t believe the Crosleys could have found substitutes to match them. The size of the bodies is very close to the height and weight of the DMV information. To say nothing of Dr. Crosley’s medical condition, the heart stents.”

That was where my theory broke down. “But she can’t still be blaming Colin.”

“She can believe whatever she wants, it’s her case. The first case she’s handled on her own. I may not agree with her, but she gets a lot of things right.”

“But why is she so sure it’s
him
?”

Frank gave the pages the slightest shake, the sound of a mouse crossing the desk.

“She likes the way the facts fit.”

“But what about people like Nick and Micah Clancy? Or Will Crosley? If the FBI was closing in on Ethan, there have to be other people who were afraid he’d implicate them. Besides, she can’t blame Colin for kidnapping his own daughter.”

“She doesn’t know yet; she hasn’t come in. No doubt she’ll point out that we have no objective proof that a kidnapping actually occurred. There’s only your word for it.”

I jerked as if my chair had been electrified. “Can she
stop
it?”

“Easy, Delhi. Of course not. I’m treating Hannah’s kidnapping as a new investigation. This is my case. I have Hannah’s phone log, we put a rush on it and requested Will Crosley’s records, which just came in. There’s been no activity in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Do you think he still has his phone?” What if Will had ditched it the way Elisa did hers?

“Probably. Smartphones are expensive, you don’t just toss them away.” Frank reached for his desk phone and turned it around to me. “Why don’t you call his number?”

I didn’t pick up the receiver. “Won’t the ID come up as the police? That would spook him.” I reached into my bag and brought out my own phone, then turned it on.

Frank dictated the number.

I pressed it in and sat with my eyes closed, waiting for it to ring. My whole life depended on something as tenuous as whether a phone was answered. If the gods were ever with me, if I had been granted just one more answered prayer, I prayed it would be now.

“
Hola!
” The voice was good-natured, slightly ironic.

“Will? Will Crosley?”

“Who is this?”

“You don’t really know me, I’m Delhi Laine. I’m looking for Elisa—”

His phone clicked off.

I looked at Frank, feeling as if the room were dissolving around me. “He hung up! I mentioned Elisa and he hung up. Isn’t there any way to find where he is?”

“It will take a few hours.”

“We don’t have a few hours!” I started to press redial, then stopped. “Maybe I should text him. He’ll have to read that.”

Frank nodded, giving nothing away.

I pressed redial but instead of letting the phone ring, I keyed in letters:
Tell Elisa Hannah’s in trouble
. I added my cell number, then sent the message.

“If she cares about Hannah at all, she’ll call me,” I said. “Even if she’s not willing to do anything, she’ll want to know what happened. They’ve been inseparable since they met. Much closer than my twin and I ever were.”

“You’re a twin?”

How could he not know that about me? But maybe he did. Maybe he was just filling in the time until we heard something back.

“You think he knows how to reach Elisa?” Frank asked.

“I hope so! He’s her brother. She said he sometimes calls her for money, so he has the number.”

Then I remembered her cell phone lying abandoned on a dresser in Boston and wanted to weep.

Chapter Thirty

A
FTER
ANO
THER
EXCRUCIATING
minute there was a ding, indicating a text message. I looked down at the phone still in my hand:

What kind of trouble?

“He wants to know what kind of trouble,” I said to Frank. “I don’t know what to say!”

“Tell him you have to talk to Elisa.”

“But what if—”

“We’re not going to get anywhere otherwise.” He was firm, years of experience behind the statement.

“Okay.” I sat back in my chair.
I need to talk to Elisa
, I wrote.

Time passed, then another ding.
This a trap?

I typed, my fingers falling over each other.
No trap. I need her help. Pls call me!

And then my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“You’re Elisa’s real mom?”

“Yes.” My throat choked up immediately.

“Okay. This is Will. What’s happening?” His voice was crisp, unaccented. But he’d had the same privileged upbringing as my daughter.

“Someone—maybe the Crosleys—kidnapped my daughter Hannah. Elisa’s twin sister. They want to trade her for Elisa or they say they’ll kill Hannah.”
Stay strong
. “And I know they will.”
If it’s the Crosleys they’ll want to make me suffer for the rest of my life.

“Hang on.” Silence.

Finally, “Delhi?”

“Elisa? Is that
you
?”

“This is the last thing I wanted to happen! I thought they’d go after you
.
I mean, I didn’t want that, but I made sure not to call you. And I knew Will would help me. What have they
done
to Hannah?”

“Nothing yet. But someone went up to Cornell Monday morning and told her you were in trouble and had to see her. So she went with them. She wasn’t answering her phone until last night, I finally reached her. She said she was on a boat.”

“
The Beautiful Past
, probably. Oh, God, I should have warned her more! I should have known.”

“They want to trade her for you.” There was nothing to do but say it flat-out.

“To trade—you mean they’ll let her go if
I
go with them? But I can’t! Oh, God, this is all my fault. She only wanted to help me. Where are you right now? Are you—it doesn’t matter, they’re probably watching you wherever you are.”

“Who? Who is?”

“You don’t know them. Are you home?”

“No, I’m at the police station. They know all about it. Even if we set up a trade, it would only be for a few minutes. The police would be right there to arrest them.”

“You’d need a lot of police,” she said darkly.

“They have a lot of police.” I looked to Frank for verification and he nodded.

“Elisa, are your
parents
alive?”

“No, but it’s complicated. But I’ll have to do this. For Hannah. She’s the only innocent one.”

“The police will be there to protect you,” I promised.

“Okay. Call me back when you know more.”

And she clicked off.

I lowered the phone. “She’ll do it. She said she’d do it.” I closed my eyes, but opened them fast. “That’s what she says now. But—we have to set it up now.”

Feeling desperate, I pressed in Hannah’s number and listened to the ringing. Her cheerful voice finally telling me to leave a message was unbearable.

“Hani? I don’t know if you’ll get this, but if you do, I’ve found Elisa. We’ll get you home soon.” I could do nothing about the tears flooding my eyes.

Frank stretched out his hand and held my wrist. “They said they’d contact you, didn’t they? Doing this is in their own interests. Go home and wait.”

“No!” I wasn’t going to move. How could I leave his office for a world too dangerous to live in? “What if they think it will take longer and don’t call? What if she changes her mind?”

“Delhi.” His smile was warm. A friend. “They want what you want. When they know you have Elisa, they won’t hurt Hannah. We’ll get her back safely.”

“Really? You think so really?”

“I do. I’ll speak to Carew, bring her up to speed.”

“Okay. I’ll go home.” I pushed out of the chair and headed for the door, startled when I passed the wall clock and saw it was not even 9 a.m. This day had barely begun. Sometimes at home when I got up early and began listing books, I was pleased to check the time and see it was only eight or nine, with hours still ahead of me. Not today.

The parking lot was on a rise from the brick precinct buildings. I climbed the steps between banks of grass, grass that was still fringed and as delicate as the growth on a Chia Pet head. Elisa had said they were watching me and I examined the cars I passed. But I saw only one patrolman in standard navy blue walking toward the building. Crazy ideas swamped me. If I had a megaphone, I could shout the news that I had Elisa and I was ready to trade. If I had notepaper, I could leave a message under every windshield wiper of every car parked here:
I have Elisa. Call me!

When I reached my van I waited by the driver’s side door in case anyone wanted to approach me.

Nothing.

Then, as I was unlocking the door, my phone rang.

Colin wondering why he had not heard from me? But when I retrieved the phone from the bottom of my bag and looked down the screen showed “Private Caller.”

My heart began jumping like a child promised ice cream. “Hello?”

“You have the girl?” It was the voice from Hannah’s phone last night.

“Yes! I mean, she says she’ll come.”

“Where is she?”

Right.
Of course I’m going to tell you so you can go get her first.
“How is Hannah?”

If you’ve done anything to her. . .

“Not very cooperative. But she’s okay.”

“Are you watching me?”

He laughed. “You’ll never know, will you? Do you know Fire Island?”

“A little. What part?”

“Take the 3:30 ferry from West Street in Patchogue to Watch Hill. Just you and Elisa. Don’t bring your police escort.
Don’t ask her any more questions
. You won’t live to regret it if you do.”

Gangster talk. But the command about not asking questions jarred me. Had he somehow heard our conversation? Could you tap an iPhone? Not physically, of course, but by some electronic method? “What do we do when we get there?”

“Bring your phone.” He clicked off.

I looked down at the brick police station. This was a book I had already read. The initial shocking call, getting the ransom together, waiting for instructions. Since I would be carrying my own phone, I would not be racing from telephone booth to telephone booth, but I would probably be given directions designed to lose any police surveillance. If
you hadn’t promised Elisa an immediate rescue, you wouldn’t even need the police
, a voice nagged.

Wrong.
Elisa’s my daughter. I’d never let them keep her.

Meanwhile, I was still confused about who was doing this. I had been sure that Kathleen was the victim. She had disappeared, after all. And who—and where—was the other man from the restaurant? I had been imagining him just as innocent as Kathleen, not suspecting that the flutes of champagne that arrived at their table from their new friends had probably been laced with Rohypnol. Now I didn’t know anything.

I looked back at the police precinct. If I were being watched and had been warned not to involve the police, it would look suspicious if I went back inside. No, I would have to call Frank and let him know the plan.

But carefully.
You won’t live to regret it if you do.
For the first time I realized that I was a target as well. As long as I could be used to find Elisa, I was safe. But once they had her and I had been lured out on the sand on Fire Island, shooting me would be as easy as knocking over a traffic cone.

Don’t think about that now.

And don’t phone anyone from the van.
It would have been easy for them to plant a listening device underneath it while I was inside talking to Frank. They knew where I lived; they had probably tapped the landline as well. And my iPhone? I started to ask Siri if a smartphone could be bugged, then stopped. Why let them know what I was thinking?

I started the van, drove down the slope to the traffic light, and turned east on Nesconset Highway. Where could I safely call from? Progress had done away with most public phones. Besides, they would see me and assume I was calling the police anyway. I tried to remember where I had seen an inside pay phone. Probably at Smith Haven Mall, but everything was out in the open there. There was a landline in Port Lewis Books, but what if they had gotten to that phone as well? I told myself I was being paranoid, but paranoia wasn’t always wrong.