Nighttime Is My Time

about Robby Brent that might be helpful. I warn you, Joy. Even with two of us working on this, it will take a lot of time to get it done.'

He got up and stretched. 'When we're finished with all that, I'm going to call the widow of a certain Dr. Connors and tell her that I need to pay her a visit. He was the doctor who delivered Jean Sheridan's baby. Jean met Mrs. Connors the other day and had the distinct feeling that she was holding back some information, something that made her very nervous. Maybe I can get it out of her.'

'Sam, I'm good at getting stuff from the Internet, and I'm probably one hundred times faster than you at it. Let me take over doing the research, and you visit the doctor's wife.'

'The doctor's widow,' Sam said, and then he wondered why he had found it necessary to correct Joy. Maybe it was because Kate had been on his mind all day. I'm not Kate's husband, he thought. I'm her widower. There's a difference of day and night.

If Joy was annoyed at the correction, she did not show it as she picked up the list on the table. 'I'll see what I can find. Talk to you later.'

***

Dorothy Connors had been reluctant to meet with Jean, and when Sam phoned, she adamantly insisted that she had no information that would be helpful to him. Realizing that he had to be tough with her, he finally said, 'Mrs. Connors, I have to be the judge of whether or not you can assist our investigation. I want no more than fifteen minutes of your time.'

Reluctantly, she agreed to let him come to see her that afternoon at three.

His phone rang as he was straightening the top of his desk. It was Tony Gomez, the police chief of Cornwall. They were old friends. 'Sam, do you know this kid Jake Perkins?' Tony asked.

Do I? Sam thought as he rolled his eyes in the general direction of heaven. 'I know him, Tony. What about it?'

'He's been going around town taking pictures of homes, and I have a complaint from a couple of people who thought he might be setting them up for a robbery.'

'Forget it,' Sam said. 'He's harmless. He has delusions of being an investigative reporter.'

'It's more than a delusion. He says he's working on the Laura Wilcox disappearance as your special assistant. Can you verify that?'

'My special assistant? For God's sake!' Sam began to laugh. 'Throw him in jail,' he suggested. 'And when you do, try to lose the key. I'll talk to you, Tony.'

73

'Jean, I had a very good reason for inquiring at the desk about whether or not you had received a fax,' Mark said quietly as he joined her in the coffee shop.

'Then explain it to me, please,' she said, her tone equally subdued.

The waiter had placed her at the same table where they had sat for several hours the day before. But today the warmth and sense of developing intimacy that had characterized their earlier meeting was missing. Mark's expression was troubled, and Jean knew that she was conveying to him the doubt and mistrust of him that had been building in her mind.

Lily-Meredith -is safe, and I am going to meet her soon, she thought. That was the essential, the alpha and omega of what mattered right now. But receiving the hairbrush in the mail last month, then the threatening faxes, and finding the rose on Reed's grave – each and every incident had torn her apart with worry.

I should have had that last fax by mid-afternoon yesterday, Jean remembered as she looked across the table at Mark. She felt as if they were taking each other's measure, seeing each other today in a different light. I thought I could trust you, Mark, she thought. Yesterday you were so sympathetic, so understanding when I told you about Lily. Were you only mocking me?

Like her, he was wearing a jogging suit. His was dark green and seemed to make his eyes seem more hazel than brown. The expression in them was troubled. 'Jean, I'm a psychiatrist,' he said. 'My job is to try to understand the workings of the mind. God knows you've been going through enough hell without my adding to it. Frankly, I was hoping you would continue to hear from whoever is sending those messages to you.'

'Why?'

'Because it would be a sign that he or she wants to stay in touch. Now you've heard from Laura, and you're satisfied that she wouldn't hurt Lily. But the point is that she communicated with you. That's what I was looking for yesterday. Yes, I was troubled when the desk clerk said that nothing had come in. I was worried about Lily's safety.'

He looked at her, and his expression of concern changed to astonishment. 'Jean, were you thinking that I'd been sending those faxes to you, that I knew the one you got late yesterday should have arrived earlier? Were you really entertaining that thought?'

Her silence was his answer.

Do I believe him? Jean wondered. I don't know.

The waiter was standing at the table. 'Just coffee,' Jean said.

'I seem to recall that on the phone you told me you haven't eaten all day,' Mark said. 'Back at Stonecroft you liked grilled cheese and tomato. You still like that?'

Jean nodded.

'Two grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches and two cups of coffee,' Mark ordered for both of them. He waited until the waiter was out of earshot before he spoke again. 'You still haven't said anything, Jeannie. I don't know whether that means you believe me or you don't believe me or you're not sure. I admit I find that pretty damn disappointing but certainly understandable. Just answer me this: Are you still satisfied that Laura has been sending those faxes and that Lily is safe?'

I am not going to tell him about the call from Craig Michaelson, Jean thought. I can't afford to trust anyone. 'I am satisfied that Lily is safe,' she said cautiously.

Mark obviously realized that she was being evasive. 'Poor Jean,' he said. 'You don't know who to trust, do you? I can't say I blame you. But what are you going to do now? Just wait here indefinitely until Laura surfaces?'

'At least for the next few days,' Jean said, intent on being as vague as possible. 'What about you?'

'I'll stay till Friday morning, then I must get back. I have patients I need to see. Fortunately I had shows already taped, but now I can't delay work on the new ones. Anyhow, as of Friday my room has been reserved by someone attending the lightbulb convention, or whatever it is.'

'One hundred top sales reps are being honored,' Jean told him.

'More honorees,' Mark said. 'I hope all one hundred make it home safely. I assume you're going to respond to President Downes' plea to be at his place for cocktails and a photo shoot tonight.'

'I don't know a thing about it,' Jean protested.

'He's probably left a message on your phone. It shouldn't take too long. From what Downes said, he wanted to make it a dinner, but Carter and Gordon already have dinner plans. Actually, I do, too. My father wants me to have dinner with him again.'

'Then I guess your father answered the questions you said you were going to ask him,' Jean suggested.

'Yes, he did. Jeannie, you know half the story. You deserve to hear the rest of it. My brother, Dennis, died a month after he graduated from Stonecroft. He was supposed to start Yale in the fall.'

'I know about the accident,' Jean said.

'You know something about the accident,' Mark corrected. 'I had just finished the eighth grade at St. Thomas and was starting at Stonecroft in September. My parents gave Dennis a convertible for his graduation. You probably didn't know him, but he excelled in everything. He was number one in his class, the captain of the baseball team, the president of the student council, great-looking and funny, and a genuinely nice guy. After four miscarriages my mother had managed to produce the golden child.'