The Night Before(63)

Pearson repeated the question, and this time Rosie forced herself to listen.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe the hedge fund owns the window company. Maybe he works for the window company. Or the hedge fund. This woman, Kimmie Taylor—I didn’t ask her details about the things she knew. But Gabe will find out. This is what he does.”

Pearson nodded, her lips closed tight and pulled up at the corners in a smile. It was meant to be sympathetic, but Rosie found it patronizing, just like before. She didn’t want sympathy. She wanted to find her sister.

A text lit up her phone. It was Joe, asking if she was still at the police station. She’d lied earlier about being there, only now she actually was. Rosie stared at her husband’s name on the screen. She wanted to throw the phone against the wall.

“May I use the restroom?” Rosie asked. She had to call him and check in. If she didn’t, he would just keep at it, texting with questions. Eventually he would find her, and she wasn’t ready to see him.

Pearson pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’ll take you,” she said.

They left the room and turned a corner. Rosie heard a voice—a man’s voice—yelling something about Thursday night.

She walked faster, following the voice, Pearson on her heels.

“Is that him?” she asked, now in a large room where a man was yelling at a desk sergeant.

She glanced quickly at Pearson, who tried to pull her away, back into the hall.

“That’s him! That’s Edward Rittle!”

Pearson’s hand grabbed her arm, but Rosie pushed her away quickly. A moment later, she was standing in front of the man whose picture she and Gabe had found on findlove.com. The man who’d last seen her sister.

“Jonathan Fields!” she yelled.

She took hold of his arms. Officer Pearson was right behind her. The man pulled away.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. He looked at Rosie with trepidation.

The desperation of the past two days came crashing down and Rosie lost herself. She started screaming.

“Are you Jonathan Fields? Tell me! Where is my sister!” She reached out to grab him again, and again he pushed her away.

“Someone do something!” he shouted.

“Mrs. Ferro!” Pearson tried to contain Rosie. She grabbed her arms and held them behind her back with both hands. But Rosie was strong. She pulled away again, this time pushing the man with two open palms against his chest. He stumbled backward.

“What the hell? Someone stop her! She assaulted me!”

“Mrs. Ferro!” Pearson yelled, then took a zip tie from her pocket. She found Rosie’s arms again and held them tight. “Don’t make me restrain you.…”

Officer Conway was there now, and he ushered the man away while Pearson held on to Rosie.

“It’s him!” Rosie cried out, pulling against Pearson’s grip. “It’s him! He has my sister!” She fell into Pearson, who opened her arms and held her.

“Shhh … Calm down, Mrs. Ferro.”

“It’s him.… It’s him.…” Rosie repeated the words, though her voice began to soften as the man disappeared down the hall.



* * *



Twenty minutes later Joe walked into the same conference room where Rosie had been counting his calls and texts to her sister. She sat still, staring at her folded hands. She couldn’t look at him.

“Jesus, Rosie…” Joe moved cautiously around the small table and knelt beside her. “What the hell happened? They said you attacked some man in the waiting room.”

“It was him, Joe. It was Jonathan Fields. Only that’s not his real name. He was at an apartment two blocks from here on Thursday night. With a woman—the neighbor heard them. He was with Laura.”

Joe sighed and hung his head. “Okay, but did you have to attack him? They’re questioning him now, about Laura. But he wants to press charges.”

Perfect, Rosie thought. “He’s done something to Laura—I know it. I can feel it. She was in that apartment! And now he wants to press charges against me for demanding to know what he did? Has everyone lost their mind?”

Joe touched Rosie’s back. “It’s okay. Just calm down.”

Rosie stood up abruptly, pushing him away. “I won’t calm down! This is crazy—they should have a team of forensic people in that apartment. They should be interrogating him, not asking polite questions. Do you know what he’s done to other women? He’s a monster!”

Joe stared at her as she paced the room. He wouldn’t speak now because he knew he wouldn’t convince her that she was wrong, or that she shouldn’t be this upset about what was happening two doors down where they’d taken that man. But that didn’t mean he believed her. Or that he thought she was being rational.

“Where’s Mason?” she asked. Her eyes opened wildly as she remembered Joe had been alone with their son. “What did you do with him?”

“Rosie!” Joe was angry now. “I called Zoe. I texted you that. What did you think I did with him? What’s wrong with you?”

Shit. He had told her that. Zoe had come to the house. She knew she should apologize. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Joe saw the papers on the table. He looked once, quickly, then back again when he realized what they were.