The October List

through Saturday-evening traffic, which slowed with congestion around Lincoln Center, the cabbie steered south and east through Midtown. In ten minutes they were at the Waldorf Astoria. Daniel paid the driver and they stepped out onto the sidewalk on Park Avenue. Using a napkin again, he took the plastic bag, with its sick contents, and stuffed it into his gym bag.
    ‘Be careful,’ she said, numbly. ‘The blood.’
    As they walked into the lobby, she stopped and blinked. ‘My God, it’s beautiful.’
    ‘You’ve never been to the Waldorf?’
    ‘Not exactly in my financial genetics.’
    ‘I generally just meet clients here, but I’ve stayed a few times. When I’m having work done on my place. This’s old New York. That’s what I like about it.’
    Her head swiveled back and forth, taking in the rich wood, the massive clock in the center of the lobby, the soaring ceilings.
    ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll sightsee later.’
    At the desk, they checked in, two rooms, Daniel using his credit card; he was worried that the police or someone else who might want the October List could track her here if she used hers. Datamining was all the rage nowadays, she’d read in The New Yorker .
    They got out of the elevator. Their rooms weren’t adjacent but were on the same floor, not far apart. As they walked down the corridor, Gabriela felt the seeds of attraction unfolding again – even greater than the feelings she’d sensed in the bar yesterday when they’d met.
    Yes, she kept thinking, Sarah, Sarah. The name, however, didn’t stop the stirrings deep within as she stole a glance at Daniel. But then: How can you possibly think of sleeping with him?
    Still, she countered: Perhaps because you’ve been lonely for too many years.
    And because Daniel Reardon is a little – maybe a lot – like you?
    But she reminded: Stay focused.
    Sarah, Sarah, Sarah …
    In the hallway he said, ‘Let’s get something to eat. Or a drink at least.’
    ‘Yes, I guess I need something.’
    That morning’s breakfast, which they’d shared, was a hazy memory.
    After dropping the bags in their respective rooms, they met downstairs in the subdued, elegant lobby bar. They sat beside each other in a banquette, their knees touching. The server, a woman with severely bunned hair, approached and greeted them, sharing that her name was Liz. She inquired if they were in town on business or for a vacation. Gabriela let Daniel answer.
    ‘Just seeing the sights,’ he said amiably.
    ‘Sorry the weather’s not nicer. It was warm last week.’
    They ordered: cheese and pâté and bread, and a bottle of Brunello.
    Sipping the potent Tuscan wine, they talked about everything, free associating – everything, that is, except the October List and the kidnapping, much less the plastic bag. She’d brought to the table with her the files from her apartment, labeled Prescott Investments – Open Items. But she let them sit unopened, as if afraid they might not have the answers as to how they could save a kidnapped child.
    She looked at her phone and sighed. ‘From Rafael. He got out safe and made the delivery. So far, so good.’
    Nodding at this bit of good news, Daniel slipped his jacket off and she caught a glimpse of a line of reddish flesh, a scar visible in the V where his shirt tugged open. It crossed from chest to shoulder. He caught her eyes and pulled his shirt closed again, self-consciously.
    ‘Can I ask what happened?’
    He seemed to be debating.
    ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
    ‘No, I’ll tell you. A few years ago I was driving with the kids up to New Hampshire and I was really tired. I shouldn’t have pushed it. I fell asleep and went off the road.’
    ‘Jesus.’
    ‘The car went down an embankment into a river. The doors were wedged shut. It started to fill up with water.’
    ‘Daniel, no!’
    ‘God, it was cold. We’d gone to see the leaves. It was September but really frigid.’
    ‘What happened?’ she whispered.
    ‘We would all’ve drowned but some local guy happened to drive by – looked like he was out of Deliverance , you know? A mountain man sort, a redneck. He drove his pickup down the embankment, grabbed an ax and jumped in after us, even though the water had to be about thirty-five degrees. He just swam to the car and kept smacking away at the back window until he got us out. I got cut on a piece of metal after I shoved the boys out.’
    ‘Oh, how terrible.’
    Daniel gave a brief laugh. ‘And,