I couldn't tell her about my videotape of his baby cache without
explaining a lot more about Children of Light than I thought she wanted
to hear.
"Don't you think the less you know the better?" I said, taking her
hand. "I've caused you enough trouble already."
"No, I caused myself trouble." She was getting up. "Can I use your
bathroom?"
"Sure." I pointed the way.
While she was gone, I went to the kitchen and surveyed it, checking the
cabinets. Again, the place was cleaner than it had been in ages. The
look of it momentarily bucked me up.
When Carly came back, she hugged me and then announced she wanted to go
check on Kevin.
"I'll do what you said about calling them," she concluded, reaching for
her bag. "I think you're right. That ought to get them off my case. At
least for the moment. As for the long run--"
"Carly," I said, taking her hand again, "we'll get through this. Just
trust me."
We hugged one more time and then she was gone. I took the moment to
double-lock the door, and then collapsed on the couch. What should be
my next move? I closed my eyes and tried to review all the insidious
things that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The illegal
drugs, the break-in and theft of my film, the suspicious nursery of
Children of Light, the threats to Carly . . .
Then it finally came back that she'd mentioned Ramos saying something
about me. By now I was getting used to being threatened by the man, so
one more time was hardly news. But I wished I'd asked her the specifics.
That was when I roused myself and reached for the phone. The time was
pushing eleven, but I still wanted to check in on Sarah, see how she
was doing. Had she come back to reality after I left?
I was listening to the phone ring, my mind drifting to thoughts of how
to gently ask Lou about her, when I realized nobody was picking up.
What's going on? I wondered, immediately coming alert. Mrs. Reilly had
probably gone home for the day, but no way would Lou be in bed before
midnight. He always had trouble settling into sleep.
Maybe, I then hoped, I'd just dialed the wrong number. But when I tried
again, still no answer.
I clicked off the phone and felt a wave of concern. If Colonel Jose
Alvino Ramos could find out I was making a movie, and then find out
where I lived, he sure as hell could locate my extended family. Was
that what he'd meant when he mentioned me to Carly?
I grabbed the set of Lou's keys I had stored in my bedroom's desk
drawer and flew out the door.
The streets were plastered with a grimy veneer of city snow, melting
fast, but I pushed the limits of safety and ran a couple of lights
since the traffic was spotty. There was a parking space just across the
street from Lou's building, and as I pulled in I looked over at his
windows.
Through the curtains I could tell a dim light was on, probably coming
from Sarah's bedroom. The front room, however, was dark.
My pulse was pounding as I raced up the steps to the street door. I
thought about pushing his bell, but I didn't have the patience. Instead
I just fumbled with the key set till I found the biggest one and shoved
it into the lock.
The building had no lobby, just a row of stairs leading up to the next
floor, with Lou's own door set off to the left. I shoved his Medeco key
into the deadlock and pushed it open. The room was pitch-dark.
"Who . . ." said a startled voice, and I knew it was Lou, somewhere in
the direction of the couch.
I clicked on the light switch and saw him lying on the floor, leaning
against the couch, blood everywhere, his eyes in shock.
"My God! What happened?"
"I'm afraid to move. The phone was ringing and I figured it was you,
but I didn't dare get up. Knowing you, you'd come over if I didn't
answer." He was holding his side as he looked at me. "Morgy, she's
gone."
At first what he said didn't sink in as I bent over him. The right side
of his shirt, just above his belt, was soaked in blood. Taking care, I
unbuttoned it and saw an open cut that looked as though he'd been
stabbed with a knife. It also appeared to be reasonably superficial, as
though a thin blade had pierced through a couple of layers of tread on
his ample spare tire. But it was bleeding still, enough to make it look
worse than it probably was. However, if it'd happened to me, I'd
doubtless be in shock too.
I got up, went to the bathroom, and pulled two towels off the rack,
then doused water over one and came back.
"Don't move. I'm going to pull your shirt away and try to clean you up,
see how bad it is."
He just groaned and stared at the ceiling.
As I was swabbing his side, what he'd said finally registered.
"Did you say . . . _Sarah_!"