Part 14 (1/2)
”I wish the weather had been better so I could fly you in. It's even better from the sky.”
Lucy felt she already knew New York from movies and television, but the sheer vastness of concrete and roads and buildings leading up to the city was overwhelming. The closer she got to Manhattan, the more she marveled at the ingenuity. She also felt apprehension about the population. ”Aren't there eight million people here?”
”That's in the entire city, and I think it's about 8.5 million now. Manhattan is under two million, but has the highest density.”
”And you know this off the top of your head.”
”Useless trivia,” Sean said.
Though D.C. was dense, it didn't have miles of towering buildings, a seemingly never-ending concrete city. The architecture of New York intrigued Lucy: Some buildings were simple and bland, others old and ornate. New and old, big and small, all pushed together into something that should have been ugly but was surprisingly beautiful.
”This isn't our weekend away,” Sean said.
She glanced at him. ”I know.”
”Just want to make that clear. Though we'll probably be here all weekend, it's business, not pleasure.”
Lucy didn't say anything because they were entering a tunnel. She grabbed Sean's thigh.
”What?”
”I don't like tunnels.”
”You take the D.C. Metro all the time.”
”It's not the same.”
She didn't tell him why. She didn't want to remember being chained in the hull of a s.h.i.+p, not knowing where she was going, not being in control. Being raped had been only the worst part of the trauma of those two days. Fears she'd never imagined had planted themselves in the hours before the vicious attack, growing exponentially until she thought she'd lose her mind before she died. Now, while she kept her emotions under tight control, the fears sat dormant until times like this, when she was trapped in a long tunnel deep under the Hudson River.
”This is the Lincoln Tunnel,” Sean said, putting a hand over one of hers. ”Truly a feat of engineering. Three tunnels servicing around 120,000 vehicles a day.”
”I know what you're trying to do. I'll be okay.” She swallowed. ”I would appreciate it if you'd keep both hands on the steering wheel.”
Sean turned on the stereo and pressed one of the six numbers. A CD slipped into place and Led Zeppelin burst through the speakers.
”It's been a long time since I rock and rolled,” Sean bellowed with Robert Plant.
A car braked suddenly in front of them and Lucy bit back a yelp. Sean downs.h.i.+fted so quickly she didn't see him take his hand off the steering wheel. She thought she heard him mutter, ”a.s.shole,” but with the loud music she wasn't sure.
Three minutes later they emerged from the tunnel into traffic. Sean maneuvered as if he had been a New York City cab driver in a previous life.
Lucy had learned in the short time she'd been involved with Sean that his car was an extension of himself, and she resisted the urge to ask him if he knew where they were going. He had customized his GPS, which he trusted as if it could drive the car without him.
Lucy had been impressed with the architecture from their approach, but now she was truly in awe, tilting her head to see as much as possible. It took them fifteen minutes to reach the Upper West Side, where Columbia University was located. Sean pulled over in a loading zone outside a huge church. Lucy stared. ”I've heard of this place-that's St. John the Divine.”
”If we're here on Sunday, maybe you'll want to go to church there.”
”It's Episcopal, not Catholic, but I've heard it's exquisite. They recently renovated it.”
”How about this-when you're done talking to Jessica, I'll meet you here. I hope to be back from Brooklyn before the rush hour, but if not, this place looks big enough to keep you entertained.”
Lucy glanced at the alarming ma.s.s of traffic around them. ”You mean this isn't rush hour?”
Sean grinned, then kissed her. ”Be careful, Luce. We don't know exactly what's going on. Let me know what you find out.”
Driving to New York, they'd agreed that Lucy would go to Jessica's apartment, talk to her if possible, or if she wasn't there, talk to her neighbors. She also planned to show Kirsten's photo around and find out if anyone had seen her this past week. Sean would head to Brooklyn and check out the Clover Motel, since Kirsten had called there the day she disappeared. Both would be on the lookout for Trey. Sean had enhanced and printed a photo of Trey off the high school website so Lucy was familiar with his appearance.
”I plan to return in less than three hours, but if something comes up and I'm following a lead, stay here,” Sean told her.
”I'll be just fine. I'm not helpless.”
”Helpless? Hardly.” He kissed her. ”Just be careful.”
”You, too. Even Rogans aren't invincible.”
Sean put one hand to his chest in mock disgust. ”That's a nasty rumor to spread.”
She smiled and put her hand on the door.
”One more thing.” He reached into his pocket and took out a leather business card holder.
”What's this?” She opened it. Inside were Rogan-Caruso-Kincaid business cards with the gold embossed logo of a sword and s.h.i.+eld in the corner. Her name and phone number were printed in the center. ”What? How?”
”My computer. I had a few sheets of blank cards printed when Patrick and I had our cards made. I thought if you need to hand them out, it would look more official. You'd be amazed what people tell private investigators.”
”Thanks.” She didn't know what to think. She didn't work for RCK, but seeing the makes.h.i.+ft cards was a visual reminder that she hadn't gotten into the FBI and had no real ident.i.ty.
”Hey, they're supposed to be a good thing, not make you sad.”
She smiled. ”They're great. Thanks.” She put them in her satchel and put the strap over her neck and across her chest. ”Three hours, meet here at the cathedral. Check.”
Lucy got out and watched Sean pull into traffic.
Weather permitting, D.C. was a walking town, but New York was D.C. times a hundred. More people, more buildings, more traffic. Lucy looked at her phone and the map she'd retrieved of the three square blocks immediately around her. Jessica's apartment was on the right, a block and a half straight ahead down West 112th Street. Lucy wished she had more time to enjoy her first trip to New York City, but maybe after they found Kirsten and got her home, she and Sean could come back for a weekend.
It wasn't as if she had anything else to do.
”Stop it,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and resolved not to feel sorry for herself. She hadn't been an FBI agent when she'd helped trap pedophiles for WCF or when she'd a.n.a.lyzed cold cases for the Arlington Sheriff's Department. She could help Sean and Patrick find a runaway now, because nothing had changed in her.
She kept telling herself that, because deep down she didn't believe it.
Jessica's seven-story apartment building had a fire escape going up the side like in the movies, and Lucy spent a few minutes looking up and wondering what the view would be from the roof. While Lucy had a fear of confining places, she had no fear of heights.
But figuring out how to get to the roof wasn't in the cards now. She suspected that, for security reasons, the fire escape could be lowered only from above, and even if she stood on a parked car she couldn't reach the bottom rung of the ladder.
The building had a small entry with mailboxes and call b.u.t.tons. She couldn't go upstairs without having a key or being let in by a tenant. Of course, if Sean were here, he could probably bypa.s.s the electrical system, but Lucy preferred more clearly legal methods. If Jessica wasn't here, she might be able to get in through a neighbor.
She pressed 406, Jessica's apartment. When she didn't think anyone was going to answer and was about to try another bell, a breathless female voice said, ”h.e.l.lo?”
”Jessica?”