A car drove by and my heart climbed up my throat, the car’s headlights washing us in light. I froze and tried to draw any saliva, but my mouth was completely dry.
Anyway, it continued on its way.
“Take it easy,” Patrick cautioned from the back. Every car light flashing by, every sound I heard, I sucked in a breath, certain that it was him, aching to see my son. I tried to remember the bravest thing I’d ever done. Once I confronted some clearly off-his-rocker guy as he was harassing a woman on the subway, and I remembered thinking, telling the guy to get on his way, This is crazy, Hil, he could have had a gun or pulled a knife. You could be a story on the news tomorrow morning. You hear about these stories all the time. Whatever happened, I chuckled to myself darkly, this had definitely risen to the top of the list now.
On the hour, my phone rang.
Elena.
“I’m scared,” I said to Patrick in the back. The nerves were crazy in my stomach. It rang again. I was too frightened to even answer.
It rang a third time and I hadn’t moved.
“It could always be Bloomingdale’s about the house-goods sale tomorrow.” I met Patrick’s eyes in the mirror. “If you don’t answer, you’ll never know.”
A fourth time. I nodded and drew in a breath.
“Ask to speak to your son. He’s waiting for you. I’m right here.”
I nodded and took the phone with both hands and answered. “Hello.”
“Are you where I told you to be?” the familiar voice said, a syringeful of ice shooting through my veins.
“Yes. I’m at the access ramp,” I said. “Just like you asked.”
“Change of plans. I want to you to drive straight north, fifteen blocks, to 153rd Street. When you get there make a slight left and pull up directly under the expressway. There’ll be a vacant lot under the overpass. When you’re there shut off your lights. Do you have it?”
“Yes, 153rd.”
“I’m giving you two minutes.”
“Two minutes?” I tightened in fear. “I want to speak to my son.”
“I wouldn’t worry about your son right about now. He won’t be around to speak to you ever again if you’re not here. I’d get rolling. You’re down to a minute and forty-five.”
The phone clicked off and my heart started to go crazy. I spun around and looked at Patrick. “He’s at 153rd Street. He said I have two minutes.”
“All right, go!” he said, glancing around outside. “Go!”
I threw the car into drive and jammed my foot on the accelerator.
The light was red and I sped right through it. I didn’t give a shit. There was no one else around; 153rd was fifteen blocks away and all I could think of was him pulling away with my son. For good.
No, I remembered what Patrick had said. He wants that diary as much as you want Brandon.
“Take it easy,” Patrick said. “He’ll be there. You don’t want a cop to pull you over.”
At 149th I caught another red light. This time I had to stop. If it was dark and deserted ten blocks south, it was like a desert up here. A black, empty, steel-trestled burnt-out desert. There wasn’t even a streetlamp on. The odd businesses amid the vacated storefronts were auto-repair shops and a closed-down bakery. Maybe a homeless guy or two huddled up in a blanket under the overpass. If you wanted to make a drug transaction with no one to see you, this was probably the cushiest address in the city.
Or kill someone, I was thinking. I was sure Patrick was too.
“Come on, come on, come on!” I shouted at the light.
“Stay calm,” Patrick said. He could probably see that I was losing it. “Remember what we went over. The money first and not the diary. Until you have Brandon safely in the car.”
“Okay! Okay!” I shouted at him, my nerves frayed.
Finally the light changed and I hit the gas again; 153rd was just four blocks away. When I reached it, nothing around, not even a fucking light, I turned left as he’d said and came up under the expressway.
There was an empty lot under the overpass, completely abandoned. The expressway clattering with the occasional cars thirty feet above. I didn’t see anyone.
“Oh God,” I said, looking at where we were, my hands shaking. This was the kind of place where anything could happen. Where people could just disappear.
I shut off my lights as he’d instructed.