face as he said good night to Cassidy and a tousled Henry Freeman.
I noticed that Freeman had set up a reel-to-reel tape recorder and headphones and other equipment on the kitchen counter near the phone.
Following my glance, Cassidy said, “Remember, it’s not unusual for the takers to wait a couple of days before making contact.” He repeated his instructions on what to do if Hocus called, most of which were ploys to keep them talking. As soon as possible I should try to hand the call off to Cassidy. Until then I was to stall and not give a definite yes or no answer to any demands.
“You guys don’t have those gizmos that instantly identify the caller?” I asked.
“No. At some point in the near future, we’ll be able to do that, but the phone company hasn’t installed that kind of equipment in this area yet. Our own computer system can identify the caller and location for calls, but there isn’t any way to make it available at a residence yet.”
Not wanting to think about what this delay in technology might cost Frank, I told them I was going to try to sleep — it wasn’t true, but I needed time to myself. Freeman was already half-asleep when I said good night.
Cody and the dogs followed me into the bedroom. I closed the door behind me. I stood there, leaning my back against it. I thought about calling Frank’s mother and sister. It was six in the morning. I’d wait another hour, I decided.
Tired as I was, I still could not make myself lie down in that empty bed. I took Frank’s pillow from the bed and moved to the one chair in our bedroom, a wooden rocker. Clutching his pillow to my chest, I breathed in his scent, stared at the bed. Cody, less sentimental, curled up on my pillow; the dogs vied for the position closest to my feet. Dunk won.
I thought of all the times I had watched Frank as he slept, listened to the sound of his snoring. I wondered if he was sleeping now or suffering in some unnameable way. Was he dead — or worse, wishing for death? I was in the wrong damn job. Like doctors, cops, and coroners, reporters know a little too much about the kinds of things people are capable of doing to one another.
I started staring at the clock, wondering if I should ever call Frank’s mother and sister, whether I would be cruel enough to bring them with me into hell.
I buried my face in the pillow.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I awakened with a lurch that nearly threw me from the chair. The dogs scrambled to their feet.
The phone was ringing. In the next second Cassidy was pounding on the bedroom door, calling my name. I stumbled out of the chair in a panic. “It’s open!” I called toward the door, and snatched up the phone.
“Hello,” I half shouted into the receiver. Cassidy entered the room quietly.
There was silence on the other end of the line, then a dial tone.
I hung up. I didn’t try to hide my disappointment.
“Too short,” I heard Freeman call from the other room.
“Make sure our friends caught that, Hank. Tell them to be ready for the next one.”
I looked at the alarm clock. Seven in the morning. The sun was up. I had probably managed to get about forty minutes of sleep. I was so tired, my head felt too heavy for my neck. I realized I was still holding Frank’s pillow. I heard Freeman talking to someone else on a cellular phone. I looked up at Cassidy.
“If it’s Hocus, they’ll call back,” he said.
“You don’t know that!” I said angrily, but no sooner were the words out of my mouth than the phone rang again.
Cassidy smiled.
I took a breath, picked up the phone. I tried but couldn’t keep my voice steady when I said, “Hello?”
“Irene Kelly?” a young man’s voice said. The connection was slightly distorted, as if he were holding the phone too far away from his mouth. I heard noise in the background, the sound of cars going by.
“Yes,” I said.
“This is Hocus,” he said. “Sorry to do this to you on your day off, but you should go into work.”
“I’ve already—”
“We want to talk to you about your husband,” the voice continued, “but it’s important that you are certain we aren’t bluffing.”
“I know that you—”
“We’ll call you back in three hours.”
“Wait — I’ve already been down to the paper. I know you aren’t bluffing. I’ve seen the car.”
He didn’t respond, but the background noise told me he hadn’t hung up.
“I’ve seen the car,” I went on, giving Cassidy a panicked look. He gave me a thumbs-up sign, motioned me to continue. “I’ve seen it,” I stumbled on. “I saw the car — Frank’s car. I know you brought it back from Riverside. I just happened to go into the paper last night. You know, sometimes I have to follow up on a story. I went in last night. I saw the car and what was in the trunk….” I swallowed hard. “Oh, and I read the message on the mirror. I know you’re serious. I don’t doubt you in the least.”
No reply.
“Can I talk to Frank?”
Nothing. Still, he didn’t hang up.
