“I still have nightmares about it.” Soleil ignored Nikki; she was off in her own conversation. “I can deal with jail, maybe. But not the nightmares. About what happened to Reed, I mean. I want that night back. It was so stupid.” And then she shouted, “I was so stupid . . . And now I’ll never have him again.”
As Soleil broke down in sobs, Heat was torn between wanting her to go on and tell the story of what happened to Wakefield; an obligation to read her her rights so if this turned into a confession she could use it in court; and a human need to not lead Soleil into a place so dark she would take her own life. “Soleil, we can talk about this later. Come on, come to me, let’s get you some help, all right?”
“I don’t deserve to live. Do you hear me?” Her mood weather vaned from somber to angry. The biting tone Nikki was accustomed to receiving suddenly got turned inward. “I don’t deserve to be here. Not after Reed. Not after what I did to him. Fighting, killing our relationship. That was all me. I called off the marriage. I hurt him so bad. . . .” And then the anger gave way to more sobs.
Nikki glanced down the track, wishing to spot the end of the train, but the line of passenger cars extended as far south as she could see. It hadn’t gotten to speed yet and its slow roll made its length feel infinite to Heat.
“And then that night. Do you know the guilt I carry around about that night?”
Nikki assumed it was the night of Reed’s death, but again she didn’t want to tip Soleil over the edge by asking at a time of such vulnerability, so she said, “You won’t have to carry it alone anymore. Understand?”
Soleil pondered that, and Nikki began to have hope that at last something she said was reaching her. That’s when they both turned toward the noise. Three NYPD motorcycles rolled slowly with lights but no sirens down the path. Nikki turned the other way just as a Parks Department SUV was rolling up beside Rook from the other direction. Heat saw the change in Soleil and called out to Rook, “Tell them to stay back!”
Rook stepped to the driver’s window and spoke to the Parks officer, who Nikki watched grab his microphone. Seconds later, the NYPD motorcycles must have gotten his call, because they braked and waited in the near distance, idling, the purr of their engines mixing with the squeaking and moaning of the lumbering train.
“I can’t deal with it all, I can’t,” moaned Soleil. “It’s all too much.”
Nikki could finally see the end of the train about a hundred yards away and began calculating her rush.
“I just feel . . . hollow. I can’t turn off the pain.”
Fifty yards to go. “I’ll get you through this, Soleil.” Now only three more cars. “Will you let me help you?” Nikki extend her arms, hoping her gesture would be felt over the yards that separated them, across the crushed stone of the railroad siding. Soleil straightened her posture, looking like a dancer again. She raised her face to the sun with her eyes closed for a moment, then lowered it to look right at Nikki, smiling at her for the first time ever. And then she threw herself under the last car.
Chapter Sixteen