Five Days in Summer

ran a finger down the seam of the empty paper cup, where the white silhouettes of two Parthenons came together unaligned. She closed her eyes and recalled the soft comfort of her empty bed, the well-worn sheets, the give of her pillow as she turned her head. And in the waking dream of her thirst for sleep, she saw Emily Parker. Saw her, somewhere in the dark, bound and gagged, slowly drowning in a capsule filled with liquid terror. Hovering in front of death while it mocked the value of her life, knowing it would be over soon, deepening into the consciousness of that knowledge. Then it never happened, and as in a nightmare, time melted in the heat of fear. Amy saw Emily Parker, face distorted against the hard inner surface of a glass jar. Trapped. She saw Janice Winfrey. Saw them experiencing something worse than their own deaths.
    Enfolded in the shadows of her plastic sleep, Amy saw a mother witnessing her child’s terror, his helplessness, his pain. A mother witnessing the brutal death of her beloved child, then left alive to relive it.
    Amy’s stomach lurched and she swallowed an upsurge of bile.
    So that was it.
    She opened her eyes to cold fluorescent light. Her fingers closed around the paper cup, crushed it, and aimed it across the room at the garbage.
    “Score!” It was Geary’s voice.
    Amy spun around, her adrenaline working harder than the coffee. There he was, standing in the doorway, grinning.
    “That was cute,” she said.
    “Doesn’t take much, does it?”
    “It takes a lot more than you to scare me.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples and squeezed shut her eyes. “The caffeine’s starting to get to me.”
    “Why don’t you go home for a few hours, catch some z’s?” His nod punctuated the suggestion, as if the decision had been made. “No one can stay awake that long.”
    “What about you?” She looked at Geary, whose appearance never seemed to change from its state of overwrought, rumpled antagonism. “You’ve been up all night too.”
    “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
    “That’s a good line. Mind if I borrow it sometime?”
    “Be my guest.”
    She jabbed the PRINT button and her updated report began to spew out of the printer.
    “Got something to cheer you up.” Geary’s watery eyes had that twinkle. “Snow’s back.”
    “Finally!”
    “Nice and refreshed after a good night’s sleep.”
    “What are you telling me?”
    “Guess he got back from Fall River past his bedtime.”
    “So he went home ?”
    They hurried down the hall toward the conference room. Geary pushed open the door and Amy stepped into the buzz. Every laptop was on; every face wore a sheen of fatigue. Some of the agents were out in the field and had left behind the ghosts of their blinking computers. Half the Cape was on the case now and the entire East Coast was on alert. The hiding placeswere dwindling, but not fast enough; with all their resources, they still hadn’t figured out where to look.
    Snow, sitting with Sorensen and Janet, looked buffed and rested. When Amy got close, she smelled his sweet cologne intermingled with the locker-room odor of sweat and bad breath.
    “Al!” She patted his shoulder and forced a smile. Sorensen watched her, grimly amused. “Have a nice vacation?”
    “What vacation? What is this?” Snow ran a hand along the crease of his pants. “I stopped at home for a shower and a shave. I had no idea what was happening here.”
    “Didn’t turn on the TV? Didn’t listen to the radio? This investigation is all over the news,” Amy said.
    “Actually, no.” Snow lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug. “But I wish I had. I would’ve come straight over.”
    “And put in a little overtime?”
    “Okay, Amy, I get it.” He shook his head and glanced at his knees, then faced her with his most patient expression, as if his tolerance would discharge her anger. She imagined Snow’s wife must have decided to leave him at just such a moment, her resolution bursting recklessly against his blank slate. “Do you want to hear my report or not?”
    She pulled up a chair and squatted onto it, leaning forward so abruptly Snow tilted back to make room. “You’re lucky the chief isn’t here right now. I’d fill him in on everything .”
    “Go for it, Amy.” He smiled — he actually smiled. And she understood that if she ever did tell Kaminer about Snow’s advance, he would offer that same blank expression and simply deny it.
    She wanted to scream.
    “You