The Missing Page 0,20

and checked her messages. There was another one from Sheila, asking her to call. She was worried; Darby could tell by the tone of her mother’s voice. The second message was from Banville.

Her cell phone battery was almost dead. Darby found a pay phone on the wall next to a pair of vending machines. Across the hall was the ICU waiting room, a small area with stiff plastic chairs and magazines wrinkled by sweat. A man with rosary beads stared at the floor while a woman cried in the corner underneath the TV playing a news report on the war in Iraq.

When Banville answered his phone, Darby brought him up to date on the day’s events.

‘I agree, the letters do sound like directions,’ Banville said after she finished. ‘I wonder how the numbers factor into it.’

‘It could be a shorthand of some sort.’

‘And the only person who can decipher it is still sedated.’

‘I asked the doctor to call me when she wakes up. I want to be there when you question her.’

‘I think that’s a good idea. It might help keep her calm. Let’s hope she wakes up soon.’

‘I hear I’m all over the news.’

‘Some reporter got footage of you climbing under the porch with Jane Doe,’ Banville said. ‘I bet our boy is getting real nervous.’

‘How’s the mother holding up?’

‘About the same as any mother would hold up in this situation,’ Banville said. The Lynn police went to Little Baby Cool’s last known address. He doesn’t live there anymore and – imagine this – he forgot to notify his parole officer. I’ll tell them about the footwear impression.’

‘I want to talk to you about that,’ Darby said, and launched into her reasons for hiring the footwear consultant.

‘It’s something to consider,’ Banville said.

‘The last FedEx drop is at seven. Emmerich said he’d work on it first thing in the morning.’

‘That’s a hell of a lot of money to gamble on something that might not pan out.’

‘What would Carol want you to do?’

‘I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with the vic,’ Banville said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Darby heard the sting of the dial tone. She hung up the phone, her face burning. Her attention drifted back over to the man holding the rosary beads.

In a flash she saw herself at fourteen, rosary beads in hand, pacing the worn-out carpet, waiting for her mother to come out of ICU where she was talking to the surgeon. Her father was going to be okay. Big Red had been in plenty of tough spots before; he was going to pull through this. God always protected the good.

Now, at thirty-seven, she knew better.

Darby thought about her mother wasting away at home and felt a cold, empty space hanging inside her chest as she walked toward the elevators.

Chapter 16

Daniel Boyle rubbed the rosary beads between his fingers as he watched the crime scene investigator, the attractive redhead who had helped Rachel Swanson out from underneath the porch, disappear around the corner. He had changed seats when she picked up the pay phone. He had listened to most of her conversation and was relieved to hear the police had found the footwear impressions he had left on the kitchen floor.

Once the blood from the hallway was processed through their CODIS system, they would get a hit for Earl Slavick. The FBI was looking for Slavick in connection with a string of missing women that started in Colorado.

The FBI didn’t know Slavickwas now a resident of Lewiston, New Hampshire. When Boyle decided to lead the police to Slavick’s house, they would find a pair of Ryzer hiking boots, size eleven, in Slavick’s office closet, along with some other valuable evidence connecting him to the disappearances of several New England women.

What was troubling Boyle was this business about the writing found on Rachel’s arm. He had an idea what the numbers and letters meant, but it would be meaningless to the police unless Rachel woke up and started talking.

Boyle knew Rachel had already woken up once and attacked a nurse. If Rachel woke up again, if they could stabilize her long enough to pump her system with some antipsychotic medication, she might be able to tell the police about what had happened to her and the other women in the basement.

Boyle still couldn’t figure out how Rachel had escaped. The two pairs of handcuffs were good and tight, the ball gag still wedged securely in her mouth, when he left to get Carol. And Rachel was