The Dark at the End
FRIDAY Chapter 10
Jack pocketed his phone.
Tomorrow at six ...
That didn't leave much time. He had the huge trunk of his Crown Vic stocked with the special ammo Abe had supplied, but it was garaged a couple of hours away in the city. He needed to get back to Manhattan, and hoped Abe had acquired the final items on his shopping list.
Dawn's Volvo sat in the O'Donnells' garage and would stay there. Weezy had hidden the rented SUV off road in the trees down by the highway and driven in with Dawn. Round trip from way out here to the city this time of year took about four hours. On a crowded summer weekend it could take that long just one way. Weezy could drive him in and head right back, but that would mean leaving Dawn out here alone for four hours. Not a good idea.
Then he remembered: The Hampton Jitney ran between Montauk and the city. Probably a limited schedule this time of year, but he could hop one of those early tomorrow morning and make it to the city without leaving Dawn unattended.
He took the steps to the second floor two at a time and slipped into the darkened front bedroom. Two figures sat by the window, silhouetted against the glow from the streetlight outside. Dawn stared out at the night, Jack's Leica Ultravid binocs pressed to her eyes. Weezy turned at his entrance.
"The lights are going out over there," she said. "Looks like they're calling it a night."
"Are you sure you didn't see my baby?" Dawn said, still peering.
"I've a pretty good idea what a baby looks like, and I didn't see one."
But I'm pretty sure I heard one.
He'd told her about seeing Gilda but hadn't mentioned the bassinet or the screech. He wasn't sure of the best way to play this, but that seemed like the way to go. The screech might get her all upset, thinking the baby was in distress or being mistreated, making her a wilder card than she already was.
She lowered the Leica. "Damn."
"Hey, Dawn, it's late," he said. "Only the great room was lit. The baby was probably asleep in one of the dark rooms. Add Gilda's presence to the doctor's visit and it's almost a sure thing he's there."
"I hope so."
Weezy looked at him. "Just as you're almost sure Ra - " She cleared her throat. "Mister Osala is not?"
He glanced at her. She'd almost slipped there. Dawn knew nothing of Rasalom.
"I just got it on good authority that he'll be returning tomorrow night."
"Excellent," Weezy said. "Then all the pieces will be in place and we can start to plan our moves."
Jack already had a plan forming. If it worked out, Rasalom would never reach the house.
Weezy was rubbing Dawn's shoulder. "Won't be long now, Dawn."
Jack took the glasses and checked out the mansion. All dark now. Early to bed and early to rise?
He focused on the window to the baby's room, remembering those two points of light in the crib. Could it have been standing at two weeks old?
He'd promised Dawn he'd help her get her baby back, but what exactly would she be getting? She'd had only a glimpse of the child right after delivery. Would she still want it when she saw it close up in the light of day?
The memory of its screech still rattled him.
Tomorrow at six ...
That didn't leave much time. He had the huge trunk of his Crown Vic stocked with the special ammo Abe had supplied, but it was garaged a couple of hours away in the city. He needed to get back to Manhattan, and hoped Abe had acquired the final items on his shopping list.
Dawn's Volvo sat in the O'Donnells' garage and would stay there. Weezy had hidden the rented SUV off road in the trees down by the highway and driven in with Dawn. Round trip from way out here to the city this time of year took about four hours. On a crowded summer weekend it could take that long just one way. Weezy could drive him in and head right back, but that would mean leaving Dawn out here alone for four hours. Not a good idea.
Then he remembered: The Hampton Jitney ran between Montauk and the city. Probably a limited schedule this time of year, but he could hop one of those early tomorrow morning and make it to the city without leaving Dawn unattended.
He took the steps to the second floor two at a time and slipped into the darkened front bedroom. Two figures sat by the window, silhouetted against the glow from the streetlight outside. Dawn stared out at the night, Jack's Leica Ultravid binocs pressed to her eyes. Weezy turned at his entrance.
"The lights are going out over there," she said. "Looks like they're calling it a night."
"Are you sure you didn't see my baby?" Dawn said, still peering.
"I've a pretty good idea what a baby looks like, and I didn't see one."
But I'm pretty sure I heard one.
He'd told her about seeing Gilda but hadn't mentioned the bassinet or the screech. He wasn't sure of the best way to play this, but that seemed like the way to go. The screech might get her all upset, thinking the baby was in distress or being mistreated, making her a wilder card than she already was.
She lowered the Leica. "Damn."
"Hey, Dawn, it's late," he said. "Only the great room was lit. The baby was probably asleep in one of the dark rooms. Add Gilda's presence to the doctor's visit and it's almost a sure thing he's there."
"I hope so."
Weezy looked at him. "Just as you're almost sure Ra - " She cleared her throat. "Mister Osala is not?"
He glanced at her. She'd almost slipped there. Dawn knew nothing of Rasalom.
"I just got it on good authority that he'll be returning tomorrow night."
"Excellent," Weezy said. "Then all the pieces will be in place and we can start to plan our moves."
Jack already had a plan forming. If it worked out, Rasalom would never reach the house.
Weezy was rubbing Dawn's shoulder. "Won't be long now, Dawn."
Jack took the glasses and checked out the mansion. All dark now. Early to bed and early to rise?
He focused on the window to the baby's room, remembering those two points of light in the crib. Could it have been standing at two weeks old?
He'd promised Dawn he'd help her get her baby back, but what exactly would she be getting? She'd had only a glimpse of the child right after delivery. Would she still want it when she saw it close up in the light of day?
The memory of its screech still rattled him.
