The Night Before(77)

“Gabe?” the voice calls from outside the house. Rosie’s voice. With the bat still in my hands, I race down the stairs and slide a trunk beneath one of the windows again. I look outside and see her car. The blue minivan. They found it. They found the car. I think now that they must know where I am. But then why is Rosie here alone? Where are the police?

Then a horrible thought. Gabe said Rosie and Joe were helping him. Maybe he’s fooled them. Maybe they all think I hurt Jonathan Fielding and now I have to be saved from myself. But why? To what end? What does Gabe want with me?

Floorboards shift above my head as he walks to the front door. I can’t see Rosie, but I can hear her voice clearer now, just outside.

“Gabe!” she calls out.

The footsteps turn to shuffles just outside the front door. Then the turn of a lock. And the door opens.





FORTY-SEVEN


Rosie. Present Day. Saturday, 4:20 p.m. Branston, CT.

“Gabe! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you.…”

Rosie walked inside the house the way she always did. It was strangely quiet today. And dark. She looked around and noticed the shades and curtains were all pulled shut and the lights were off.

Gabe stood still, his hands in his pockets. His expression was strange, like a little boy caught stealing candy.

Rosie started rattling off the things that had happened. The man Laura called from her phone was named Jonathan Fielding—he’d been assaulted and was unconscious. They wouldn’t know anything from him for a few days. The police were at her house, looking through Laura’s things, her computer. Joe had rushed off to be with Mason and he wasn’t answering his phone either.

“What is it with the two of you?” she asked. “Anyway…”

She told him about the records from the phone company—how they said Laura’s phone died on Richmond Street, not by the harbor. Fielding’s apartment was near Richmond Street, just like Rittle’s. Which explained the car being found there.

“Can you call your contact back? Find out why she said that about the phone? Maybe Laura charged it in between the two signals.…”

Gabe didn’t move. Not one muscle, not even his eyes blinked. If he hadn’t been standing up, she would have wondered if he was even alive.

“I know you were researching Edward Rittle, but we need to find out more about Jonathan Fielding—that’s the man she was with last night. The man in the coma. I think maybe he’s into something bad. Something criminal. And Laura just got mixed up in it. Don’t you think? Isn’t that possible?”

The theories that had seemed possible inside her head were suddenly absurd as she said them out loud. Most things were exactly what they seemed. The simplest answer was usually right. These were things Joe used to say. Joe … where are you?

“Gabe … what if there’s really something wrong with her? What if she hurt this man and is running now? Scared and alone…”

Rosie fell into Gabe, wrapping her arms around his neck as she started to cry. She waited to feel his arms wrap around her back, for his voice to calmly tell her it would all be okay. They would find Laura and they would help her through this. But he didn’t move. He stood straight and stiff like a piece of wood.

Rosie didn’t move either then, except to open her eyes. She looked beyond his shoulder into the next room, the kitchen, and then stopped breathing.

On the counter was her black purse.





FORTY-EIGHT


Laura. Present Day. Saturday, 4:25 p.m. Branston, CT.

Rosie!

I climb down from the trunk and back up the stairs to the door. I press my ear against it, but all is quiet now.

I move quickly back down the stairs and into the utility room to the Bilco hatch. I don’t look into the crawl space where Gabe’s wife is folded into a bag. I have to create a distraction. Gabe won’t want to hurt Rosie. He will want her to leave so he can finish his plan. Put me into the trunk of his car and drive out of town. I know that’s what he wants. He’s gone to great lengths to make this plan. To execute it. He’s made me sandwiches and a soft bed. He’s stroked my hair while he thought I was sleeping. He wants to finish the plan. And his plan does not include getting rid of Rosie’s body.

Gabe told me to leave through the Bilco hatch if I heard three thuds on the ceiling. He had been careful with his footsteps, but maybe Rosie had been louder than he realized. Maybe I heard thuds when Rosie walked into the house. And maybe I’m trying to follow the plan and escape from the house.

I put the bat down against the wall and grab both handles of the Bilco hatch. Then I push—hard against the chains, making the doors rattle. I push again. And again. And again.





FORTY-NINE


Rosie. Present Day. Saturday, 4:25 p.m. Branston, CT.

Slowly, gently, she released her arms from around Gabe’s neck.

Laura was inside this house. Gabe had been lying the whole time. That explained why he’d sent them off in the wrong direction. Chasing the wrong man at the wrong bar. It explained why he’d been so assertive, so strong for her and Joe in the face of Laura’s disappearance. And it explained why he was behaving so strangely now that she was here, inside this house. So close to Laura.

The question now was whether Laura was safe here. Whether she was hiding somewhere, as desperate as Gabe was for Rosie to leave. Or whether she was hiding somewhere, desperate for Rosie to find her.