Five Days in Summer

side of the desk, between an oversized street atlas and a copy of Ruth’s last diary: a half-filled book of blank pages with a pale green cover on which she had sketched a sprig of dill, her favorite herb. He had never read the diary and never would, but he liked to keep it near him.
    There wasn’t much in the manila folder, just a few cold cases from over the years, but one in particular made him think of Emily Parker. On top of the file was a yellowed copy of a report from the local paper.
    Shocking Discovery Under Wharf
Woods Hole, Massachusetts. September 13, 1994.
    A severed arm was discovered Monday when three seven-year-old boys were scraping barnacles from beneath the dock near Stony Beach. One of the boys, Brian Lee, thought he saw a circle of dark rocks in the wet sand. A collector of rocks and shells, Brian went to investigate, and made the discovery of five fingertips protruding just above the sand. The boys immediately notified a passerby, who called the police. The police retrieved the arm, and the area surrounding the docks was sectioned off by investigators. While it has not been confirmed, some believe the arm may belong to Chance Winfrey, age seven, a resident of Brewster. Chance has been missing since Friday, following the disappearance of his mother, Janice, the previous Monday.
    Geary read the article then skimmed through the file. The boy’s arm had been knifed off at the joint. The day after the arm was found, Janice Winfrey turned up, alive, stretched out on a bench outside the Woods Hole Aquarium. She was starved, dehydrated and delirious. Two weeks in the hospital stabilized her vitals but her mind never came back. The file hadn’t been notated since the case was marked closed, two years after the boy’s arm turned up at the beach. The rest of his body was never found. One of the strangest things about this case was that there was only one clue, a footprint in the sand that had outlasted the tide. The cops did a Cinderella but it was never successfully matched.
    Geary reread the article. Then it hit him. The Winfrey kid’s arm was found on the tenth of September. His mother went missing a week before, on a Monday.
    Monday, September third.
    The son’s arm turned up seven days after the mother disappeared.
    Geary opened Ruth’s desk calendar — the gardens of Monet, recent months starkly blank — and checked today’s date. It was September fourth.
    That meant Janice Winfrey disappeared seven years ago yesterday. Exactly seven years before Emily Parker vanished from a parking lot.
    And Emily Parker had two young sons.
    Geary’s brain did a flip.
    He picked up his cordless phone from where it was lying next to its base, but when he pressed TALK there was nothing. Damn battery. He cradled it and went to the kitchen. He didn’t like to use the creamy white princess phone on the counter because it reminded him of Ruth, stretching the extra-long coil so she could talk while she cooked. She wouldn’t have a cordless phone, she liked dancing with this one. He lifted the handset and dialed Roger Bell from memory.
    “Good morning, John.”
    “Caller ID, you’re not that smart, Bell.”
    Bell’s grainy voice chuckled.
    “I’m calling for a reason.”
    “Did you stub your toe getting out of bed again?”
    “Hardy har har. Don’t make me laugh this early. I’ll burst a hemorrhoid and you’re the only doctor I’d let fix it.”
    “Now, John, you know I delve best into the bowels of the mind.”
    “Yeah, I know, and mine’s a cesspool. Can we be serious for a minute? And don’t say—”
    “I was being serious.”
    “Now listen to me, Roger. I might have a case. A repeater.”
    “Oh?”
    “From the cold files. Something that might match a new missing persons. I’ve got a strong hunch about this and I want to brief you on it later if you have time.”
    “Not on anyone’s payroll, I’d wager.”
    “Roger, I tagged you as a consult onto my cases for years. This one you’ll do for the book.”
    “Of course I will,” Bell said. “Have you had breakfast?”
    “I ate at five. I’ve got something I need to do right now. I’ll fill you in at lunch, high noon, Lizzy’s Diner.”
    “Noon, then.”
    Geary hung up, opened the fridge and took a long swig of orange juice from the carton. For the first time in his life, this was something he could do without annoying someone; but after all that waiting, it really wasn’t so much fun. He used the palm of his hand to wipe a