Pam's backpack was still by the door.'
'Did you try to reach her?'
'Yeah. Sure. I called her cell but it didn't even go to voice mail. I called five times. It just isn't like her not to follow the rules, you know? Not to turn in the park uniforms and stuff,' Lydia said, laughing a bit.
'She's such a nerdy kind of good girl.'
Lydia walked to the end of the bench, facing out to the rough sea, and sat down. 'I had no one to call, didn't know the people she worked with. Then I was watching the late news, and the story about these girls who'd been killed came on. It didn't seem possible that it could have anything to do with Pam. But I kept watching, and there was a local news story that showed one of the bodies was found in Brooklyn, not too far from here.'
Elise Huff, wrapped in the green blanket, was dumped in the marsh off Belt Parkway, right across Jamaica Bay from where we stood. 'That's when you called the Suffolk police?'
'Yes, ma'am. Just a few hours ago.' Lydia dug her hands back into her pockets. 'I'm kicking myself now 'cause I think maybe Pam was trying to signal me.'
'How do you mean?' I asked.
'She was so wound up, I guess she was really excited about whatever she thought she was going to see. But at the same time she was making a point to whoever was with her, if he was listening, that she had to be somewhere, with someone, by eight o'clock. Pam was obviously trying to let
'You're doing very well, Lydia. Everything you know, every idea you put together-it all helps us,' I said. 'Has anyone asked you, did Pam say where she was when she called that second time?'
'Oh, yeah. She was right here.'
'On her post, at Fort Tilden?'
'Yes, she and her friend-well, this guy-they were driving around the beach.'
'I got them working the Lear girl's cell phone already, Alex. Looking for pings. Seeing if we can trace where she's gone. Getting nothing from it so far. Could be he ditched it,' Dickie Draper said, waddling closer to me. Then he looked at Lydia. 'Must be wrong about where Pam said she was. Think harder. They don't let anybody drive on the beach here. The only vehicles these park personnel are allowed to use going over the sand are dune buggies.'
Lydia pursed her lips. 'I'm telling you what Pam said, Detective.
That he was driving her all over the beach, showing her things she'd never seen before. In his jeep. I'm pretty sure she said he had an old army jeep.
FORTY-SIX
An old army jeep,' I said, as I watched the Suffolk officer lead Lydia to the patrol car to get her back to the mainland before travel became impossible. 'What's the description of Wilson Rasheed's jeep that Edenton put out on the APB?'
'Willy MB, 1944,' Mercer said. 'Manufactured for the Department of the Army. Those little workhorses that could handle any terrain.' Mike was giving Dickie Draper directions to Jimmy Dylan's Breezy Point house. 'It's a five-minute drive from here. See who's at home. We need to reel Kiernan in.'
'Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mikey. Who died and made you the commanding officer? This frigging breeze is turning into a hurricane. I'm outta here.'
'Don't panic just because they don't make life rafts big enough to hold you, Dickie. I didn't happen to come by car, so I'm counting on you to check it out.'
The thunder and lightning were getting closer. It was almost high tide and the surf was raging. Joe Galiano came trotting over from the broken-up concrete pad on which we had landed. 'We've got to get out of here now. It's going to be dicey. Winds are up to fifty miles an hour.'
Mike didn't need to be told a second time. 'Let's go, Coop.'
'One call. Give me one minute.' I held up a finger and backed into a corner of the long room so that I could hear once I dialed the number.
'You can fly in this?' Mike asked Galiano, as his hair whipped across his face.
'Seventy-four miles per hour makes it an actual hurricane. I'll get you home before that happens.'
'If Coop moves her ass,' Mike said, starting off behind Galiano.
'Mercer, she'll listen to you.'
'Who you calling?'
'Nelly Kallin,' I said. 'On her cell.'
Mercer tugged at my arm. I plugged one finger in my ear and held the phone to my other ear.
'Ms. Kallin? It's Alex Cooper. Are you okay?'
'I'm fine, thanks.'
'Still with your sister?'
'Yes, yes, I am. And I heard the news about Wilson Rasheed this morning.'
'I'm sorry we didn't call you about that. I don't mean to be rude, but I have to make this short, Ms. Kallin, because there's another girl who's been abducted.'
I heard a noise competing with the sound of the wind and waves and turned to see that Galiano had started the rotors of the chopper.
Behind him, the city lights glittered as though it were midnight, powered up because of the darkness that had descended with the storm. 'It's got to be Troy, Ms. Kallin. It's another old military facility where the victim worked, and he was probably driving his father's jeep.
She was a park ranger, wearing a uniform.'
'Oh, God.'
'You were right about his m.o., too. It wasn't a blitz attack. He somehow managed to convince her-convince Pam-to go with him.' Mercer took my arm and started to walk me toward the door frame of the old building entrance.
'Those therapists taught him well,' she said.
'We didn't get through all your files yet. And you know so much more about him than anyone else. The man who kidnapped Pam told her he wanted to show her where his family went for the holidays.
Does that mean anything to you? Did Troy talk about that at all?'
'What holiday?'
'I don't know which one. That's why I'm calling you. We may break up, Ms. Kallin. Call me back if you have any ideas. You seem to know things it will take us days to figure out.'
'I have good reason to, Alex,' Nelly Kallin said. 'If you look at those photos I gave you, you'll see a small set of initials tattooed on Troy's right arm, up near his shoulder. PW, for the name of one of the young women he savaged, who couldn't identify him'
I was moving from the cover of the officers' club out into the rain.
'She's the daughter of my best friend. She never got her day in court, and she never really recovered from the trauma of the attack. I made it my business to try to see that Troy Rasheed never got a chance to hurt anyone else again. I've failed miserably.
'We wouldn't have a shot at this without you,' I said, trying to pick up speed across the sand. It made sense that Nelly Kallin had been so interested in every detail of this prisoner's life.
'I had no idea you had any connection to one of his victims. 'No one does, Alex. I've never told anyone.'
'Easter. Fourth of July. Labor Day,' I said, thinking that we were just days away from that holiday weekend. 'Thanksgiving. Christmas. Was there a time the Rasheed family did anything functional together?'
'I can barely hear you.'
'Those holidays, can you think of any significance to any of them?'
Nelly Kallin sounded dejected. 'I don't know where they went. I hate to disappoint you. Thanksgiving was Troy's favorite holiday. They went away every year, but I just don't know where. He talked about it in therapy
