“Yeah, it’s different for some people. My brother, Duane, knew he was going to be a chef when he was five years old. He was cooking dinner for all of us by the time he was seven.”
“People like that amaze me,” Lucy said. “I wish I had a dream like that, but I don’t.”
Frost shrugged. “I think the rest of the world is more like you and me. We just kind of find our way. Things happen, and we figure it all out as we go.”
“Well, I’m still trying to figure it out,” Lucy replied.
“You’ve got time. When I was your age, I was just getting out of USF law school. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.”
“Oh my God, you’re a lawyer?” Lucy asked.
“I hope that doesn’t destroy your opinion of me.”
“No, it’s just—why aren’t you practicing law?”
“Like I said, things happen,” Frost told her. “I went to SF State as an undergrad and got a dual degree in history and criminology. I was really only interested in history, but my parents said I should get some practical value out of my college education. They pushed law school on me, too. Duane was working ninety hours a week at minimum wage as a cook, and I think they figured one of the Easton boys should go make some money. It didn’t work out that way.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, there were no jobs for lawyers when I got out. That’s okay. I would have hated it.”
“So you joined the police?” Lucy asked.
“Nope.”
She was confused. “What did you do?”
“I drove a taxi for two years.”
Lucy laughed. She reached out and touched his shoulder and then quickly drew her hand back. “Wow, you really are full of surprises.”
“I liked it,” Frost said. “I got to know the ins and outs of the city, all the back roads and back routes. That still comes in pretty handy.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“I got robbed too many times. I had too many people throw up in my cab. So I hooked up with a high school buddy down on the Wharf. We ran fishing charters for a year. We slept on the boat. I liked being on the water, but I smelled like fish all the time, and girls didn’t really go for that.”
Frost was enjoying his trip down memory lane, but he knew how it ended. He felt a tightness in his stomach. Things happen, and you figure out where you’re going, but it doesn’t mean what happens is good.
“Then I spent six months working on Alcatraz as a tour guide. I loved that, being a history buff. It was my favorite job.”
“But only six months?” Lucy asked.
“Only six months.”
“What happened? Did you get laid off?”
Frost glanced at Lucy and then glanced away. They were the same age. Lucy and Katie. Both twenty-five.
“No, my sister was murdered,” Frost told her.
Lucy’s big eyes flew open even wider. He heard her inhale sharply. Without a word or thought, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. “Oh my God, Frost. I don’t know what to say.”
“Thanks. There’s nothing to say.”
She let him go, but she held on to his hand. “That’s so terrible.”
“Yeah. Katie was a sweet kid.”
He was about to say she was your age, but he didn’t. He was about to say you remind me of her, but he didn’t.
“I found her in the backseat of her car. It was—”
He stopped. It was a scene only the devil would understand.
“There are so many ripple effects when something like that happens,” he went on. “My parents separated for a while and only reconciled a couple years ago. They left the city. Moved to Tucson. They couldn’t handle being here anymore. Duane and I actually grew closer. We were so different, and we’d never spent much time together, but without Katie, we were all we had.”
“And you became a cop,” Lucy concluded.
“Yes, I became a cop. Suddenly, the criminology degree, the law degree, seemed to make sense in the world. Up to that point, they didn’t. But I guess there’s a weird synchronicity to life. The puzzle pieces come together eventually.”
Lucy still clung to his hand.
“Did you catch the guy?”
“Yes, we got him. My lieutenant was the detective on the case. Now he’s gone away for good. Honestly, I don’t always know how to deal with it. That guy completely changed my life. I’m sitting here right now because of a murderer.” He shook his head and gave a silent, unhappy laugh. “Sorry, Lucy. I don’t mean to drag you down with my stories.”
“No, I’m glad you told me. I don’t have any stories like that.”
“Be glad you don’t.”
“I don’t know. I want there to be something, you know. I feel like I’m not going anywhere. I think I’d rather be like you. Drive a cab, or live on a fishing boat, or work on Alcatraz, instead of selling jewelry to rich old women.”
“Nothing’s stopping you,” Frost said.
“Except myself.” Lucy checked the time on her phone. “I better go. Break’s over.”
“Sorry. One more question.”
“Sure.”
“Did Brynn tell you anything about her treatments with Dr. Stein? I’m trying to find out more about how this memory thing really works.”
“No, she didn’t talk about it, but she seemed fine afterward. Nothing was wrong, as far as I could tell.”
“She didn’t give you any details?”
“Not really, but if you want to find out more about it, I know someone who can help.”
“Who?” Frost asked.
“Me.”
“You? What do you mean?”
Lucy looked embarrassed. “I decided to talk to Dr. Stein about my gephyrophobia. It’s stupid, living in the Bay Area and freaking out about bridges. I want to know if she thinks she can help me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now,” Frost said.
“Oh, I won’t do any treatments yet. I probably can’t even afford it. I just figured I’d do an initial consultation to find out what it’s all about. That’s what you want, too, isn’t it?”
“Lucy, don’t do this for me. Really.”
“But it might help you anyway, right?”
“It might,” Frost admitted.
“Well, there you go. Win-win for both of us. I have an appointment on Monday afternoon. We can talk afterward.”
Lucy didn’t give him a chance to object. She pushed herself off the step and smoothed her red dress. Frost got up, too, and their bodies accidentally bumped together in the hustle-bustle of the crowd. Lucy’s mouth puckered, as if she had an impulse to kiss him. He defused the moment by reaching out to shake her hand. She took it, and her palm had a nervous dampness.
“Bye, Frost,” she said, with a twinge of disappointment on her face.
“Good-bye, Lucy.”
She turned and skipped down the steps, dodging between the crowds. He watched her until she disappeared through the revolving door at Macy’s, and then he turned back to the park. As he climbed into the plaza, he nearly collided with a tall man who wore a white flowing robe and a bizarre mask that completely covered his face. The mask featured a red-lipped grin from ear to ear, long white fangs, and huge bug eyes. A black wig of dreadlocks hung down his head.
Frost was startled, but weirdness was the coin of the realm in San Francisco.
“Sorry,” he said.
The mask bobbed up and down, and the man replied in a singsong falsetto.
“Sorrrr-eeee,” he chanted. “Sorrrr-eeee.”
Frost continued past the man into the square. He was fifty yards away beneath the palm trees when he remembered what Lucy had told him about the man on the bridge.
The man wearing a strange mask, two cars away from Brynn Lansing.
Frost didn’t like coincidences.
He ran back to the steps of the plaza and scanned the crowd. He looked everywhere, but the man in the mask had already vanished.
15
Frankie spent the evening alone at Zingari. Jason texted that he was in his laboratory, and Pam still wasn’t speaking to her after their last argument. She sat at a window table beginning at six o’clock, and by the time she got to her fourth glass of wine, darkness had taken over the neighborhood outside the restaurant. She had her Kindle with her. She started the night by rereading The Myth of Repressed Memory by Elizabeth Loftus, but at the halfway point in the bottle of pinot noir, she switched to The Magus by John Fowles.
When she heard the ping on her phone, she knew her mysterious stalker was back. She opened the e-mail and saw She needs you.