Head Shot

8

This time, Sarah was awake when the phone rang. 'How're you doing?' he asked.

'Better,' she answered, not because she was, but because it was what he wanted to hear. In reality she felt cold and shivery, slightly out of touch with the planet. The initial shock had worn off, to be replaced by a stunned disbelief that what had happened actually involved her, and a feeling that instead she was a spectator looking in on someone else's nightmare.

'That's good,' said Bob, knowing that she was putting on a front, but going along with it. 'You were zonked when I called earlier. Lou said you'd taken a couple of pil s.'

'Yes, on top of a couple of brandies; not such a good idea.'

'It was if it did the job.' He hesitated, and background noise flooded into her ear. 'My love, I'm so sorry,' he blurted out. 'I wish I was there with you. Maybe that's where I should be. I'm at KL airport, but I haven't picked up my tickets for the States yet. If you want, I'll cancel them and come home instead. I sort of went off at half-cock earlier, when Andy cal ed and told me what had happened.'

'No,' she said, quickly, almost sharply. 'You go to New York. I might want you here, but I need you there. I'll come over as soon as I can, once I've had a chance to make arrangements for the kids. Meantime, please, you take care of everything that needs doing… and make damn sure that the police throw everything into the investigation.'

A quiet chuckle sounded down the line. 'Hey, this isn't just someone else's force, it's someone else's country. I'll need to tread softly there.'

'You don't know how to do that,' she exclaimed. 'I mean it, Bob; keep them on their toes.'

'I'll do what I can,' he promised. 'Do you know this man Dekker?'

'The county sheriff? No, I don't; I've heard my dad mention his name, though. He's been around for a while; he's an elected official and he's part of the civic furniture in Buffalo.'

'Is he a talker or a doer?'

'You'l have to make up your own mind on that one.'

'I wil, don't worry. I'l see him soon enough.'

'What time is it with you?'

'Around three a.m. It'l be the middle of yesterday afternoon in New York right now, so I should get there early this morning… I reckon.'

'What time does your body think it is?'

She heard him chuckle again. 'My body doesn't have a bloody clue, love. I just have this strange feeling that when I get to the States I'll be a day younger.'

'Lucky you!' she muttered, instinctively, unable to keep the bitterness at bay. 'I feel about ten years older.'

'Hey, I'm sorry. Look, it's still not too late. Shouldn't I come home first?'

'How many times do I have to say it?' Her voice rose; he had never heard her sound so strained, not even at the worst of times in their marriage. He knew how tough she was, but he understood that this had to be the worst day of her life.

'Okay, okay. I'l go straight there. I'l cal you again from Buffalo.'

'Is that where you're going first?'

'No. I've asked to be taken straight to the crime scene. They'l fly me from place to place. My US geography's crap, but as I understand it the Adirondacks are a couple of hundred miles east of the city.'

'Then call me from the cabin.' She sounded calmer, and he sensed her need to be involved.

'If that's what you want.'

'It is. Where are you planning to stay in Buffalo?'

He paused. 'I haven't given that any thought. I suppose I'l check into a hotel.'

'No. I want you to stay in my folks' house. Get it ready for me. I'l be over as soon as I can. I'l arrange for Trish to live in, and ask Lou, or Karen Martin, to look in every so often, just to see that the kids aren't giving her too much trouble. I can't just sit on my ass here; it'd drive me crazy.'

'Are you alone now?'

'No. Lou's here; the men have gone, but she's going to stay over tonight. With her having lost her dad last month, we're sort of good for each other.'

'Sure. Just watch the brandy, the pair of you. Alcohol's a depressant.'

'But like you said, it also helps you sleep. Don't you worry about your Remy Martin, though; we're not going to touch that.'

'That's good.'

'No. We plan an evening on the Martinis, American style.'

'What, as in wave the vermouth lightly over the gin?'

'No, that's too much. I'm going to make them my dad's way. He believed that the gin and the vermouth could be allowed in the same room, but only for a few moments, that's all.'