One Cold Night

Theo Childress, the man with the scar on his right cheekbone just under his eye — the groom — was still in Brooklyn... and he wasn’t finished.
    And then Dave recalled his first thought that morning when Marie had phoned him with news of the groom’s call: It would only have been more perfect if he had taken Susan, instead.

Chapter 28
    Wednesday, 6:30 p.m.
    Susan parted ways with Officer Johnson in the lobby of her building, where he got busy sharing the good news of Lisa’s rescue with everyone and anyone who was there: the police who had been guarding the building’s front door, Alan the doorman and a few of Susan’s neighbors. They knew only the basics — that Lisa had been recovered, mostly unharmed — from a brief call the Gardiner police had made to the sergeant at the Eight-four.
    Susan had left an effusive message on Dave’s voice mail and was waiting to hear back from him. To Lisa she had written, Dear Lisa, my daughter, my sister, my truest love. I’m sorrier than you can know. This should never have happened to you. I understand that it’s my fault, that a single huge act of dishonesty turned into the terror of last night and today and, bottom line, you were made to face it alone. I was a coward when it mattered most, and it was you who paid the price for my cowardice. And for Peter, too — forgive me for him — though believe it or not, he wasonce someone who seemed worth loving. Life is a strange, strange animal — badly behaved and unpredictable. We make mistakes. Immediately after sending that long-winded e-mail, she had edited herself by quickly thumbing into her BlackBerry another one: Five acorns. Remind me to explain what that means.
    A swarm of reporters flowed into the lobby. Johnson deftly put them off.
    “Detective Ramos will make a statement to the press in about twenty minutes, right outside,” Johnson said, “so just hold tight.”
    Susan stood in front of the elevator, on her way up to the loft; she and her parents were flying to Gardiner in an hour and she needed to pack an overnight bag. She held a shiny white cardboard candy box, tied with a frosted orange ribbon, which she had loaded with Lisa’s favorite chocolates: dark-chocolate squares filled with freshly shaved coconut; milk-chocolate caramel pillows; uneven latticed circles of white chocolate and crushed almonds; white-, dark- and milk-chocolate hearts. As she waited, she closed her eyes, relishing the momentary darkness and blocking out the voices in the lobby. Since she’d heard the news that Lisa was safe, a throbbing headache had unleashed itself inside her skull. It was as if all the dread she had managed to hold back throughout the day were now rip-roaring through her mind. All the things that might have happened. The pain and fear Lisa may have suffered. The loss of her. The loss of Dave. The absolute ending of her life as she knew it and the unbearable guilt and loneliness to follow. It all came rushing at her now, mixed with a kind of relief and happiness so intoxicating she could hardly believe it was real.
    The elevator doors dinged open and she stepped inside. She had always found it bizarre, standing in this mirrored cube with dozens of copies of herself, but now the company, if hallucinatory, cheered her despite her pounding head. Balancing the candy box in one hand, she pressed the button for the fifth floor. The doors closed and she felt a slight jolt as the elevator started upward. With her free hand she dug into her purse to get her apartment keys ready in advance, as was her usual habit.
    She breathed deeply in and fully out, feeling more grateful than she had ever been for anything in her entire life. She couldn’t wait to see Lisa. Expectation of seeing and touching her daughter — her daughter — filled her like helium gas. Lisa was safe. The nightmare was over.
    The elevator slowed at the third floor, dinging as the doors parted. It was not unusual for the elevator to make extra stops on the way down, but on the way up it rarely happened. The doors sat open for a minute, but no one came. Then, just as the doors were closing, a FedEx deliveryman ran into the elevator. He must have made a delivery on this floor, had another one on a floor above and pressed the up button in advance to save time.
    She smiled and said, “A lot of deliveries today?” just as she noticed he wasn’t carrying a package.
    The doors shut behind him. He did not push a floor button. The elevator began upward