Silent Night

go see Dad. Brian, come back. Please come back.

The door of the green room opened. Winick ushered in a tall man in his late forties, followed by Officer Manuel Ortiz. “Detective Rhodes wants to talk to you, Mrs. Dornan,” Winick said. “I’m outside if you need me.”

Catherine saw the grave look on the faces of both Rhodes and Ortiz, and fear paralyzed her. She was unable to move or speak.

They realized what she was thinking. “No, Mrs. Dornan, it isn’t that,” Ortiz said quickly.

Rhodes took over. “I’m from headquarters, Mrs. Dornan. We have information about Brian, but let me begin by saying that as far as we know he’s alive and unharmed.”

“Then where is he?” Michael burst out. “Where’s my brother?”

Catherine listened as Detective Rhodes explained about her wallet being picked up by a young woman who was the sister of escaped prisoner Jimmy Siddons. Her mind did not want to accept that Brian had been abducted by the murderer whose face she had just seen on the television screen. No, she thought, no, that can’t be.

She pointed to the monitor. “They just reported that that man is probably on his way to Mexico. Brian disappeared six hours ago. He could be in Mexico right now.”

“At headquarters we don’t buy that story,” Rhodes told her. “We think he’s heading for Canada, probably in a stolen car. We’re concentrating the search in that direction.”

Suddenly Catherine could feel no emotion. It was like when she was in the delivery room and was given the shot of Demerol and all the pain miraculously stopped. And she’d looked up to see Tom wink at her. Tom, always there for her. “Feels bet ter doesn’t it, Babe?” he had asked. And her mind, no longer clouded with pain, had become so clear. It was that way now, as well. “What kind of car are they in?”

Rhodes looked uncomfortable. “We don’t know,” he said. “We’re only guessing that he’s in a car, but we feel sure it’s the right guess. We have every trooper throughout New York and New England on the alert for a man traveling with a young boy who is wearing a St. Christopher medal.”

“Brian is wearing the medal?” Michael exclaimed. “Then he’ll be all right. Gran, tell Mom that the medal will take care of Brian like it took care of Grandpa.”

“Armed and dangerous,” Catherine repeated.

“Mrs. Dornan,” Rhodes said urgently. “If Siddons is in a car, he’s probably listening to the radio. He’s smart. Now that Officer Bonardi is out of danger, Siddons knows he isn’t facing a death sentence. Capital punishment had not been reinstated when he killed the police officer three years ago. And he did tell his sister that he’d let Brian go tomorrow morning.”

Her mind was so clear. “But you don’t believe that, do you?”

She did not need to see the expression on his face to know that Detective Rhodes did not believe that Jimmy Siddons would voluntarily release Brian.

“Mrs. Dornan, if we’re right and Siddons is heading for the Canadian border, he’s not going to get there for at least another three or four hours. Although the snow has stopped in some areas, the roads are still going to be something of a mess all night. He can’t be traveling fast, and he doesn’t know that we know he has Brian. That’s being kept from the media. In Siddons’s mind, Brian will be an asset-at least until he reaches the border. We will find him before then.”

The television monitor was still on with the volume low. Catherine’s back was to it. She saw Detective Rhodes’s face change, heard a voice say, “We interrupt this program for a news bulletin. According to a report that has just been broadcast by station WYME, seven-year-old Brian Dornan, the boy who has been missing since this afternoon, has fallen into the hands of alleged murderer Jimmy Siddons, who told his sister that if the police close in on him, he will put a bullet through the child’s head. More later, as news comes in.”

17

After Aika left, Cally made a cup of tea, wrapped herself in a blanket, turned the television on, and pressed the MUTE button. This way I’ll know if there’s any news, she thought. Then she turned on the radio and tuned in a station playing Christmas music, but she kept the volume low.

“Hark, the herald angels sing …” Remember how Frank and I sang that together when we were trimming the tree? she thought. Five years ago. Their one Christmas together. They’d just learned that she was pregnant. She remembered all the plans they’d made. “Next year we’ll have help trimming the tree,” Frank had said.

“Sure we will. A three-month-old baby will be a big help,” she’d said, laughing.

She remembered Frank lifting her up so that she could place the star on the top of the tree.

Why?

Why had everything gone so wrong? There wasn’t a next year. Just one week later Frank was killed by a hit- and-run driver. He’d been on his way home from a trip to the deli for a carton of milk.

We had so little time, Cally thought, shaking her head. Sometimes she wondered if those months were just a dream. It seemed so long ago now.

“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and trium phant…” “Adeste Fideles.” Was it just yesterday that I was feeling so good about life? Cally wondered. At work the hospital administrator had said, “Cally, I’ve been hearing wonderful reports on you. They tell me you’ve got the makings of a born nurse. Have you ever thought of going to nursing school?” Then she’d talked about scholarships and how she was going to look into it.

That little boy, Cally thought. Oh God, don’t let Jimmy hurt him. I should have called Detective Levy immediately. I know I should have. Why didn’t I? she wondered, then immediately answered her own question: Because I wasn’t just afraid for Brian. I was afraid for myself, too, and that may cost Brian his life.

She got up and went in to look at Gigi. As usual, the little girl had managed to work one foot out from under the covers. She did it every night, even when the room was cold.

Cally tucked the covers around her daughter’s shoulders, then touched the small foot and tucked that in, too. Gigi stirred. “Mommy,” she said drowsily.

“I’m right here.”

Cally went back to the living room and glanced over at the television for a moment, then rushed to turn up the volume. No! No! she thought as she heard the reporter explain that police now had information that the missing boy had been kidnapped by escaped cop killer Jimmy Siddons. The police will blame the leak on me, she thought frantically. They’ll think I told someone. I know they will.

The phone rang. When she picked it up and heard Mort Levy’s voice, the pent-up emotions that had seemed so frozen erupted suddenly. “I didn’t do it,” she sobbed. “I didn’t tell anyone. I swear, I swear I didn’t tell.”

The steady rise and fall of Brian’s chest told Jimmy Siddons that his hostage was asleep. Good, he thought, better for me. The problem was that the kid was smart. Smart enough to know that if he had managed to throw himself out of the car next to the breakdown lane, he wouldn’t risk getting run over. If that jerk hadn’t spun out and caused the fender-bender, it would be all over for me now, Jimmy thought. The kid would have gotten out and the troopers would have been on my tail right then.

It was past eleven o’clock. The kid should be tired. With luck he’d sleep for a couple of hours anyhow. Even with the snow on the roads, they should be at the border in, at most, three or four hours. It’ll still be dark for a long time after that, Jimmy thought with satisfaction. He knew he could count on Paige to be waiting on the Canadian side. They’d worked out a rendezvous point in the woods about three miles from the customs check.

Jimmy debated about where he should leave the Toyota. There was nothing to tie him to it as long as he made sure he wiped it clean of fingerprints. Maybe he’d ditch it in one of the wooded areas.

On the other hand… He thought of the Niagara River, where he would make the border crossing. It had a strong current, so chances were it wouldn’t be frozen. With luck, the car might never surface.