It is even darker in here, in the woods. The ground underfoot is soft and damp and swallows up her footsteps. She makes little noise as she moves down the dirt path as quickly as she can after her father. It’s spooky in the dark. She can’t see him ahead, but she has to assume that he’s sticking to the path.
Anne’s heart is pounding with fear and exertion. She knows everything is coming down to this moment. She believes her father has come out here to regain possession of her child and bring her back. Suddenly she realizes that if she stumbles into the meeting, she might ruin everything. She must stay hidden. She stands still for a moment, listening, peering into the murky forest. She sees nothing but trees and shadows. She begins to move along the path again, more cautiously, but as quickly as she can, almost blindly, panting heavily with panic and exertion. She comes to a turn in the path, where another set of wooden stairs leads steeply to a residential street above. She looks up. There, ahead. She can see her father. He’s alone, coming down the stairs that lead up out of the ravine and into the next street. He has a bundle in his arms. He must see her now. Can he tell it is her in the forest, in the dark?
“Daddy!” she screams.
“Anne?” he calls. “What are you doing out here? Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Is that Cora?” She comes closer, breathing heavily. She’s at the bottom of the stairs now; her father is halfway down, coming toward her. It’s beginning to be lighter now—she can see his face.
“Yes, it’s Cora!” he cries. “I got her back for you!” The bundle is not squirming; it hangs like deadweight in his arms. He walks down the stairs toward her.
She stares, appalled, at the unmoving bundle in his arms.
Then, as fast as she can, Anne runs up the steps to meet him. She stumbles, catches herself with her hands. She holds out her arms. “Give her to me!” she cries.
He hands the bundle over to her. She parts the blanket covering the baby’s face, terrified of what she might find. The baby is so still. Anne looks upon the baby’s face. It is Cora. She seems dead. Anne has to peer closely at her to tell if she’s breathing. She is breathing, barely. The baby’s eyes flicker behind her pale lids.
Anne lays her hand gently on Cora’s chest. She can feel the tiny thump-thump of her heart, can feel her little chest rising and falling. She is alive, but she’s not well. Anne sits down on the step and immediately puts Cora to her breast. There is still milk there.
With a bit of encouragement, the weakened baby latches on. And then she is suckling hungrily. Anne holds her baby to her breast, a moment she never thought she would have again. Tears run down her face as she looks at her nursing child.
She glances up at her father, who is still standing over her. He averts his eyes.
He tries to explain. “Someone called again, about an hour ago. Arranged another meeting, in the road on the other side of the ravine. This time a man showed up. I gave him the money, and he handed her to me. Thank God. I was just about to bring her home and wake you up.” He smiles at her. “It’s over, Anne, we’ve got her back. I got her back for you.”
Anne looks down at her baby, saying nothing. She does not want to look at her father. She has Cora again. She must call Marco.
THIRTY-SIX
Marco’s stomach is churning as his cab pulls up to Anne’s parents’ house. He sees all the police patrol cars, the ambulance parked near the front door. He recognizes Detective Rasbach’s car as well.
The cabbie says, “Hey, man, what’s going on?”
Marco doesn’t answer him.
Anne had called him on his cell, just a few minutes ago, and said, I have her. She’s okay. You have to come.
Cora is alive, and Anne called him. What happens next, he has no idea.
Marco hurries up the front steps of the house he’d left just hours before and bursts into the living room. He sees Anne on the sofa, cradling their tiny daughter in her arms. A uniformed police officer is standing behind the sofa, as if protecting her. Anne’s father and mother are not in the room. Marco wonders where they are, what has happened.
He rushes up to Anne and the baby and engulfs them both in a tearful embrace. Then he pulls back and looks carefully at Cora. She’s thin and sickly, but she’s breathing and sleeping peacefully, her fingers curled. “Thank God,” Marco says, trembling, tears running down his face. “Thank God.” He gazes in wonder at his daughter and gently strokes the lackluster curls on her head. He has never been happier than he is right now. He wants to hold on to this moment, to remember it forever.
“The medics have checked her over and say she’s okay,” Anne says, “but we should take her to the hospital and have her thoroughly examined.” Anne looks drawn and tired but, he realizes, also truly happy.
“What happened? Where are your parents?” Marco asks at last, uneasily.
“They’re in the kitchen,” she says. But before she can say any more, Detective Rasbach joins them in the living room.
“Congratulations,” the detective says.
“Thank you,” Marco replies. As usual, he can’t read the detective, can’t tell what’s going on behind those sharp, discerning eyes.
“I’m so glad your baby has been returned to you alive and well,” Rasbach says. He looks directly at Marco. “I didn’t like to say so before, but the odds were against it.”
Marco sits nervously by Anne’s side, gazing down at Cora, wondering if this happy moment is about to be snatched away from him, wondering if Rasbach is going to tell him he knows all about it. Marco wants to put that off, preferably forever, but he has to know. The tension is unbearable. “What happened?” he asks again.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Anne tells him. “From my bedroom window, I saw Dad going out to the ravine. He was carrying a gym bag. I thought he was going to meet the kidnappers again. I followed him into the ravine, and by the time I caught up with him, he had her. The kidnappers had called again and arranged another exchange. This time a man showed up, with Cora.” She turns to the detective. “He was gone by the time I caught up with my father.”
Marco waits silently. So this is how they’re going to play it. He tries to work out the ramifications. Richard is to be the hero. He and Alice have paid, again, to get Cora back. Anne has just told the police this. Marco doesn’t know whether she actually believes it or not.
Marco has no idea what the detective believes.
“What happens now?” Marco asks.
Rasbach looks at him. “Now, Marco, we tell the truth.”
Marco feels suddenly light-headed, almost dizzy. He sees Anne look up from the baby to the detective, alert to disaster.
“What?” Marco says. He can feel the perspiration starting to prickle his skin.
Rasbach sits down in the chair across from them. Leans forward intently. “I know what you did, Marco. I know you took your baby from her crib and put her in the back of Derek Honig’s car just after twelve thirty that night. I know Derek drove her to his cabin in the Catskills, where he was brutally murdered a few days later.”
Marco says nothing. He knows this is what Rasbach has believed all along, but what proof does he have? Has Richard told them about the phone? Is that what he’s been doing in the kitchen? Has Anne told them about the video? Suddenly Marco can’t bear to look at his wife.
“Here’s what I think, Marco,” Rasbach says, speaking rather slowly, as if he understands that Marco is in so much distress that he may have trouble following. “I think you needed money. I think you set this kidnapping up with Derek Honig to get money from your wife’s parents. I don’t think your wife knew anything about it.”
Marco shakes his head no. He must deny everything.
“After that,” Rasbach says, “I’m not clear. Maybe you can help me. Did you kill Derek Honig, Marco?”
Marco starts violently. “No! Why would you think that?” He’s very agitated. He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants.
“Derek betrayed you,” Rasbach says calmly. “He didn’t bring the baby to the exchange as planned. He took the money for himself. You knew where he was with the baby. You knew about the cabin in the woods.”