They Disappeared

46

Manhattan, New York City

Jeff was rising, surfacing from a sleep too deep for dreams.

Despairing cries clanged in the darkest reaches of his mind.

Lee Ann, Sarah, Cole.

Images whirled.

Grotesque ghost masks, Sarah’s face, Cole’s smile. Shoes. Take-out cups. News cameras. Motorcades. Toy airplanes. Planes hitting the towers. Lee Ann’s grave.

We fear the things we can’t control and grapple with the things we can.

Jeff woke, unable to move. His body ached. The aftereffects of stress had fused his bones to the bed.

Where am I? What’s happening?

As he struggled through his dazed numbness, his synapses fired and hurtled him with crystalline force back to his living nightmare.

He hefted himself and sat up at the side of his bed.

He was alone.

He inventoried the room. Morning after an intense battle: the two desks, chairs, were askew. Cordelli, Ortiz, Cassidy and Chu had taken away the crumpled notepaper, cables and other equipment. All that was left in the aftermath were empty soda cans, coffee cups, napkins, wrappers and the food trolley. Jeff was haunted by mental pictures of Cole, Sarah, and felt overcome with waves of helplessness.

Don’t wallow, do something, Griffin, haul ass!

He shaved and showered, making the water as cold as he could stand it, letting icy needles prick him until he was alert. He dressed, gulped cold coffee, then picked the most decent-looking food: a wrapped ham-and-cheese sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water.

That was breakfast.

He switched on the TV, keeping the volume low. It didn’t take long before he found a local New York news channel.

“…yes, and sources say that fears of a terrorist attack during the UN General Assembly have been heightened in the wake of two murders connected with the abductions of…”

Sarah and Cole stared back at him from the screen. Then Jeff saw himself at the podium, making his plea at the press conference. The faces of Donald Dalfini and Omarr Aimes surfaced before the news story cut to the UN building, motorcades, footage of world leaders coming and going in New York.

I’m wasting time. Come on. Do something.

There was a soft knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Let us know when you’re ready, Mr. Griffin.”

Ready for what? To twiddle my thumbs while you babysit?

The FBI had placed two agents in the adjoining room “to assist you and for your protection, sir.”

Right.

Truth was, the investigators-Brewer, Cordelli, the FBI, all of them-did not want him left alone. They expected him to sit here in this room and do nothing.

“As hard as it is for you,” Cordelli had warned him last night, “you have to sit tight and let everyone do their job.”

To hell with that.

“I need a few minutes, please,” Jeff called back.

He glanced at his nightstand, which held his personal laptop and his hard copy of all the images Chu and Cassidy had worked on.

But there was more.

He started his laptop. Last night, Cassidy had finally come up with a list of restaurants licensed by the city that began with L and prioritized those remotely resembling Lasa or Laksa.

The stylized image had stemmed from the logos Jeff had recalled from the discarded wrappers and cups in the van. Precincts would use the list for the canvass. But this was not the only lead investigators were chasing. Late last night, Cordelli and Ortiz had reiterated how upward of twenty agencies were going all out on every aspect of the case he could imagine.

That was good, but Jeff was not going to sit in this room and watch soap operas and game shows while time ran out on his family, not after he’d been so close-so goddamned heartbreakingly close-to rescuing Sarah.

I slept, did absolutely nothing, while Lee Ann died alone in the next room. Nothing is going to stop me from finding my family.

More knocking at the door.

“Not dressed yet!”

During last night’s session, Jeff had glanced over Cassidy’s shoulder at his laptop screen and made mental notes on the list of restaurants, cafes and coffee shops Cassidy was preparing.

Later that night when he was alone, Jeff used that information and his own laptop to go online and develop his own list. He was confident that his list was similar to Cassidy’s. It was tricky and challenging but Jeff had succeeded in downloading the list to his cell phone.

He was set.

He checked the battery strength of his phone. It was good. He collected his paper map, wallet, ball cap, glasses, then left his room for the elevator.