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“See, small town! I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
We said goodbye and hung up.
I could almost imagine what had happened and wondered what it would take to gather the evidence. A young girl, now married to an important figure in Manhattan’s criminal justice system, had had an affair with either Jack or Pam’s son, Brent Smith, both dead, and given birth to a baby, maybe born dead. I thought about some of the artifacts we had found up in the attic, including a box of photos. I tried to remember what had become of the box, if the police had taken it or it had ended up in storage with the rest of the stuff that was up there.
I heard a key in the door again, and Will called out, “Hello,” for the second time.
“That was fast,” I shouted.
“My colleague showed up. He’ll do the post tonight, thank God. We are backed up.”
“I have news. Get your dinner and come sit down.”
He was back in ten minutes. “What’s going on?”
I repeated everything Mark had said, including naming his source, Alan Stone.
“How did cases ever get solved before DNA?” Will asked, shaking his head. “I have the utmost respect for my forefathers in medicine.”
“I’m trying to imagine what happened here, and I have to tell you, my brain is going nuts. If the mother lived here while she was in college, she was young. I’m going to Google the Manhattan DA and find out who his wife is and how old she is. Anyway, she lived here and had a baby here. What if the baby wasn’t dead when they put her up there?” I asked, shivering.
“That’s an awful thought. I’m not sure it’s something a recovering kidnapping and car accident victim should be thinking about.”
“Yeah, well, it’s too late,” I said, looking at him sidelong.
He leaned back in a chair, his arms folded over his head. His broad shoulders strained against his T-shirt, this one with University of Pennsylvania Medical School printed across the chest. His legs were crossed at the ankles, his feet encased in Uggs, which I hated, but on him they were so perfect, I had to grin, which hurt my face. My gaze traveled up his long, muscular legs, and I couldn’t help noticing a sizeable bulge. I had to force myself not to swoon.
“Are you staying the night again?” I asked.
He leaned forward, grinning at me. “I was planning on it.”
