Do Not Become Alarmed(56)

And now her kids were where? Seeing what? With Sebastian so fragile and dependent on first-world medicine. Sebastian, who, if he was in Treasure Island, would run home when the first scary thing happened. The thought nearly buckled Liv’s knees and sent her to the floor in the middle of the club room.

She waited for the toaster. The kitchen had no reason to change up the food, because most people didn’t stay this long. Tourists were here overnight before going somewhere beautiful. Business people stayed for a meeting. If you stayed long enough to notice that the breakfast-makings never changed, something was deeply wrong.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Kenji, at the embassy: On my way to hotel with news. You there?

Liv’s hand started to shake, holding the phone. She hit the microphone and dictated a text. “Good or bad news—question mark.” She waited for his answer, and it popped up: Gather the others?

Fuck you, Kenji, she thought. “GOOD OR BAD?” she wrote, with one thumb.

The three little gray dots appeared, pulsing on the screen. She waited. Then the reply: Good I think.

The English muffin popped out of the toaster. She left it there and texted the others.

They gathered in the empty club room, and Benjamin took her hand. Raymond sat opposite them, clearly jittery. Nora stood, with that Icelandic saga air. Gunther, so outsized and jovial a week ago, seemed to be shrinking, his spine compressing day by day, his face graven with lines.

Kenji Kirby arrived, polished and hale. He sat in a leather chair and clasped his hands together. The parents mirrored him instinctively, clasping their own hands, leaning forward on the couches. They were praying, in their way.

“They’ve narrowed down the Facebook login to one area,” Kenji said.

“Why is it taking so long?” Camila asked.

“The computer had good security.”

“Also the police are incompetent,” Gunther said, his voice startlingly loud. Liv wondered if he was drunk.

Kenji ignored him. “The police have also been tracking down the contacts of Luis Bola?os. Bola?os is the dead Colombian man who was found—”

“We know,” Gunther said.

“The Herrera family lives in the right area for the login and had contact with Bola?os,” Kenji said. “That’s a house they thought they’d ruled out, but now a tactical team is going back with a search warrant.”

“Wait, like a raid?” Liv said.

“Something like that.”

“And you think our kids are there?”

“We certainly hope so.”

Benjamin said, “Couldn’t a raid put them in danger?”

“Not more danger than they’re already in,” Kenji said. “In the official estimation.”

“When’s the raid happening?” Benjamin asked.

Kenji looked at his watch. “Right now.”

“Oh fuck,” Nora said.

“Now?” Liv said. “No one thought to consult us about this? What if the kids become hostages, or—or human shields?”

“You’ve been urging speed and action all week,” Kenji said. “And now you’ve got it.”

“But we thought you’d let us know!”

“Can we go to the house?” Raymond asked.

“It’s too dangerous,” Kenji said.

“Our children are there.”

“The team will keep us apprised.”

Liv leaned into her husband’s side, and he locked his arms around her. She tried not to think about Penny and Sebastian seeing men with masks and guns and bulletproof vests rushing into a house. Or about the lengths to which desperate kidnappers might be driven. How did hostages ever survive? It seemed unlikely, impossible.

“This took a lot of work on a lot of people’s part,” Kenji said, sounding peevish.

“You might have told us,” Camila said.

“That’s what I’m doing, right now.”

They glared at him and sat in silence.

Kenji’s phone rang, and Liv jumped. He turned away for privacy, but they all watched him. He spoke in monosyllables, in Spanish, and hung up. Then he stared around at the parents as if he didn’t quite see them. “The children weren’t there,” he said.

“What does that mean?” Liv asked.

“I don’t know.” Kenji looked stunned.

“Who was there?” Raymond asked.

“No one.” This wasn’t the outcome he’d expected.

Liv wondered if Kenji had imagined himself some kind of action hero, directing his armored team to the villain’s lair to rescue the adorable children, who would be huddled in a room full of toys, frightened but unscathed.

“Was there evidence that the kids were there?” Benjamin asked.

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his phone.

“Find out,” Raymond said.

“Okay,” Kenji said, backing out of the room. “I will.”





35.



EVERY TIME PENNY closed her eyes, she saw herself running for the train, tripping over rocks, stumbling in flip-flops, losing the insulin, the paper bag disappearing behind her. Then she opened her eyes again. The train rumbled along.

“I’m hungry,” Sebastian said.