Laurie checked the time on her computer screen once again. Two forty-five P.M. Surely Brett Young was back from lunch by now. She had called him yesterday from Los Angeles and left a voice mail with an update. This morning, she had e-mailed him a more complete summary of the Susan Dempsey case. Still no response.
She closed her office door and allowed herself to kick off her pumps and lie down on the white sofa beneath her windows. Flying out to Los Angeles, just to catch Madison Meyer unguarded, had taken its toll. The coast-to-coast red-eye was unbearable, but not so much as being away from Timmy any longer than necessary. She was feeling the sleep deprivation now. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She just needed a little rest.
Before she knew it, she was no longer in her office above Rockefeller Center. She was in another place, in a different time. She recognized the playground on Fifteenth Street, back when they still lived downtown.
Timmy is so tiny, only three years old. His legs are straight in front of him, like pins, as he squeals from the swing. “Whheeeee! Higher, Daddy, higher!”
She knows precisely what day this is. She knows what will happen next, even though she was not there to see it with her own eyes. She has replayed this scene countless times.
As Greg pushes his son once more on the swing, he lets out a grunt, feigning physical exertion, even as he is careful not to let his toddler sail too high. As an emergency room doctor, he has seen more than his fair share of children injured during overly exuberant play. “This is the last one,” he announces. “Time to go home and see Mommy. One-minute warning.”
“Doctor!” a voice calls out.
In the last of countless selfless demonstrations of his love for his son, Greg sees the gun and steps away from Timmy in an attempt to pull this stranger’s attention from the boy.
A gunshot.
“DADDY!!!”
• • •
Laurie bolted upright at the sound of her son’s scream.
Grace was staring at her from the doorway, her hand still on the office doorknob.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you. I knocked but you didn’t answer.”
“It’s okay,” Laurie assured her, even though she knew she wasn’t really okay. Would the nightmares ever end? “I must have dozed off. That red-eye was a killer.” She felt a pang in her chest as the last word left her mouth.
“Really? I slept the whole way and feel fine,” she said.
Laurie resisted the temptation to throw a pillow at Grace’s sky-high upsweep. “And that’s the difference between being twenty-six and thirty-seven. Anyway, what’s up?”
“Brett called. He wants to see you in his office.”
Laurie ran her fingers through her hair. Nothing like seeing your boss for an important meeting straight from a nap.
“You look fine,” Grace said. “Good luck, Laurie. I know how much you want this.”