The Night Bird (Frost Easton #1)(30)

“There are so many ripple effects when something like that happens,” he went on. “My parents separated for a while and only reconciled a couple years ago. They left the city. Moved to Tucson. They couldn’t handle being here anymore. Duane and I actually grew closer. We were so different, and we’d never spent much time together, but without Katie, we were all we had.”

“And you became a cop,” Lucy concluded.

“Yes, I became a cop. Suddenly, the criminology degree, the law degree, seemed to make sense in the world. Up to that point, they didn’t. But I guess there’s a weird synchronicity to life. The puzzle pieces come together eventually.”

Lucy still clung to his hand.

“Did you catch the guy?”

“Yes, we got him. My lieutenant was the detective on the case. Now he’s gone away for good. Honestly, I don’t always know how to deal with it. That guy completely changed my life. I’m sitting here right now because of a murderer.” He shook his head and gave a silent, unhappy laugh. “Sorry, Lucy. I don’t mean to drag you down with my stories.”

“No, I’m glad you told me. I don’t have any stories like that.”

“Be glad you don’t.”

“I don’t know. I want there to be something, you know. I feel like I’m not going anywhere. I think I’d rather be like you. Drive a cab, or live on a fishing boat, or work on Alcatraz, instead of selling jewelry to rich old women.”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” Frost said.

“Except myself.” Lucy checked the time on her phone. “I better go. Break’s over.”

“Sorry. One more question.”

“Sure.”

“Did Brynn tell you anything about her treatments with Dr. Stein? I’m trying to find out more about how this memory thing really works.”

“No, she didn’t talk about it, but she seemed fine afterward. Nothing was wrong, as far as I could tell.”

“She didn’t give you any details?”

“Not really, but if you want to find out more about it, I know someone who can help.”

“Who?” Frost asked.

“Me.”

“You? What do you mean?”

Lucy looked embarrassed. “I decided to talk to Dr. Stein about my gephyrophobia. It’s stupid, living in the Bay Area and freaking out about bridges. I want to know if she thinks she can help me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now,” Frost said.

“Oh, I won’t do any treatments yet. I probably can’t even afford it. I just figured I’d do an initial consultation to find out what it’s all about. That’s what you want, too, isn’t it?”

“Lucy, don’t do this for me. Really.”

“But it might help you anyway, right?”

“It might,” Frost admitted.

“Well, there you go. Win-win for both of us. I have an appointment on Monday afternoon. We can talk afterward.”

Lucy didn’t give him a chance to object. She pushed herself off the step and smoothed her red dress. Frost got up, too, and their bodies accidentally bumped together in the hustle-bustle of the crowd. Lucy’s mouth puckered, as if she had an impulse to kiss him. He defused the moment by reaching out to shake her hand. She took it, and her palm had a nervous dampness.

“Bye, Frost,” she said, with a twinge of disappointment on her face.

“Good-bye, Lucy.”

She turned and skipped down the steps, dodging between the crowds. He watched her until she disappeared through the revolving door at Macy’s, and then he turned back to the park. As he climbed into the plaza, he nearly collided with a tall man who wore a white flowing robe and a bizarre mask that completely covered his face. The mask featured a red-lipped grin from ear to ear, long white fangs, and huge bug eyes. A black wig of dreadlocks hung down his head.

Frost was startled, but weirdness was the coin of the realm in San Francisco.

“Sorry,” he said.

The mask bobbed up and down, and the man replied in a singsong falsetto.

“Sorrrr-eeee,” he chanted. “Sorrrr-eeee.”

Frost continued past the man into the square. He was fifty yards away beneath the palm trees when he remembered what Lucy had told him about the man on the bridge.

The man wearing a strange mask, two cars away from Brynn Lansing.

Frost didn’t like coincidences.

He ran back to the steps of the plaza and scanned the crowd. He looked everywhere, but the man in the mask had already vanished.





15


Frankie spent the evening alone at Zingari. Jason texted that he was in his laboratory, and Pam still wasn’t speaking to her after their last argument. She sat at a window table beginning at six o’clock, and by the time she got to her fourth glass of wine, darkness had taken over the neighborhood outside the restaurant. She had her Kindle with her. She started the night by rereading The Myth of Repressed Memory by Elizabeth Loftus, but at the halfway point in the bottle of pinot noir, she switched to The Magus by John Fowles.

When she heard the ping on her phone, she knew her mysterious stalker was back. She opened the e-mail and saw She needs you.



He was baiting her to write back, but instead, she forwarded the e-mail to Pell Security, and then she called the CEO of the company to see if they’d had any luck tracing the overnight message to its source. She reached him, but he didn’t have good news. The GMX account had been accessed via a generic IP address on a public Wi-Fi server and couldn’t be linked to an individual.