“Do you think you and Dom will ever talkagain?”
“There’s my shrink,” he jokes. “We talk. WhenMom and I went toNonno’s andNonna’s funerals, wespent some time with Dom and Merrie. He calls on birthdays, ouranniversary, and Christmas. I call on birthdays, their anniversary,and Easter. Sometimes one of us picks up the phone for no reason.Over the years the calls have become less strained. He’s mybrother. He fucked up, but I love him. No regrets, girls. Our livesare here, and I have no desire to go back. My heart aches for yourmother, who has taken on weight she doesn’t need to carry. But Ican’t fix that.”
He stands. “I’ve got to go to the clubhouse.Bridge starts in half an hour and if I’m late, your mother willkill me.” He smiles. “Come give your old man a hug.”
“See you soon, Dad,” I say into hischest.
“Look forward to it, Ter.”
“I’ll come by with Val and Austen tomorrow,and I’ll bring donuts,” Laura says as she holds him.
“Bavarian crème for me.” He pulls back andkisses Laura on the cheek, then bends and does the same to me.
Laura and I stand by the door and watch himget into his car and drive away.
Then we wrap our arms around each other andcry.
Portland, Maine
Ethan
James Bond
The day before I leave for Portland, Benitascopes out a few buildings to find the right one for me todisappear into, head out the back to collect another car, and driveoff without a tail. Yeah, the ditch will let those fucktards know Iknow I’m being followed, but there’s no way we can let them tailme. Aside from the obvious that we don’t want to blow our cover,they must never know about those brave girls coming forward.
We’re getting closer to cinching the noose,and we have to stay sharp.
I drive my car to the front parking lot of amedical building that opens at six-thirty. My tail in the Camry isparked a couple of rows over, and I feel the Russian’s gaze boringinto my back as I walk into the lobby. I head behind the buildingwhere the medical staff parks, get in the car Benita left for me,and I take the back alley to the next cross street where I turn andhead to the interstate.
At the satellite office, Agent Grandeau comesout to greet me and takes us to a conference room. Thea Grandeau isa statuesque middle-aged woman who has a wide smile and an openmanner. She tells me she’s originally from New Orleans, but went tothe University of Maine, met her husband there, and they settled inPortland.
The girls arrive a half hour later nervousand wary. Thea’s warmth calms them, and after she explains theprocess, she gets down to it. With a practiced ease she gets themto remember details they haven’t shared before. Much of their storysounds familiar. It’s like the Russians follow a script. When Theais done, I give them my phone to each girl to scroll through thephotos of the Russians, and to a one they positively ID the two menwho tried to dope them in the club.
The net widens with Thea, her colleagues, andPDs statewide now in the know about the Russian crew and theirpurpose. As I’m getting ready to leave, my phone rings and it’s oneof the NYPD members of the NY JTFF. After going through the club,bar, and campus-related doping reports from the past six months, hehas two where the descriptions of two guys tag-teaming the targetedgirls match the Russians.
Thea takes me to a cubicle, where I get on acomputer and conference in with Skip and tell him about the NYcall, and what I learned here. Now that a pattern is coming clear,Skip agrees I should go to NY to join the agent who’ll speak withthe girls who filed those reports. Better than two hours ago, Iknow what I’m listening for, and what specifically to ask.
Before I shut down the computer, I check theJ-Gestia Gallery website to find out when Andie’s opening is, andsee it’s this Friday night. I call the NY JTTF agent and ask if wecan talk to the girls on Friday, and he’s fine with that, and tellsme he’ll set it up.
On my way out of Portland, I’m thinking abouthow my plan is coming together, noting it was no more than afantasy until now. I drop off Flower’s letter at the Portland postoffice, knowing I’ll be seeing her before she gets it.
Friday night Theresa will in the same bed asI am, and I don’t expect we’ll be doing much sleeping.
New York City
Theresa
The Gift
It’s definitely a schlep to get fromDutchford, Connecticut to New York City. First I have to drive tomy sister’s house – one hour – where Boo is staying with Eloise andour parents, who are babysitting Valeria and Austen for theweekend. We’re staying in the city to see a show, visit a couple ofmuseums, eat too much great food, and get in a little shopping.Laura, Baz, and I are taking a train from Hartford to New Haven –an hour – then we’re taking Metro North to NYC – two hours. No wayare we driving to NYC, especially not on a Friday ten days beforeChristmas.
In preparation to go to Andie’s opening, Ishuffled a couple of patients, and I’m ready to leave the house atten in the morning with Boo in the backseat going back and forthwindow to window on his tether. Dogs and cars. Need I say more?
It’s pandemonium at my sister’s house, butthe good kind. Laura’s shouting last-minute instructions to ourparents as she runs through the kitchen from the laundry room. Bazis braiding Val’s hair while Austen is jumping up and down on thesofa chanting, “Me too. Me too.”
Dad goes outside to move my luggage to thetrunk of his car as he’s chauffeuring us to the station. Afterfourteen thousand hugs and kisses good-bye, we get to the stationand on the train with a moment to spare, which is a miracle.
After we’re seated, Laura leans into Baz andcloses her eyes. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and drops akiss on her hair. Not three minutes later, she’s asleep.