gray" in the tunnel, Frank would have felt worse than he did about upsetting her. As it was, he felt like shit. But Louise's answers might have just given him the start needed to link Dolchik's file with this disappearance . . . and then link them all to the same somebody--or somebodies--who preyed on people in the subway.
"Hey, are you going to be okay?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm sorry," she apologized while frantically trying to erase the stream of tears. "I don't know what's happening tome."
"It's called delayed reaction. There's nothing to worry about." Corelli intended to take her by the hand and lead her back into the living room. Instead, he put his arms around her and pressed her head to his shoulder. Louise tensed momentarily, and when the awkwardness of the moment passed, she relaxed.
"How about giving me a second chance with that coffee?" she finally asked as she extricated herself from his arms.
"Leave that to me. You go sit down." Louise began to protest. "And I won't take no for an answer."
She smiled, pushed aside an errant lock of hair, then left without further protest.
"So, if the NYPD is handling the case, why are you here, Frank?" Louise asked twenty minutes later. Corelli made good coffee, and it revived her almost as much as his earlier kindness had.
"Let's just say I'm moonlighting. The boys in blue know this town from the surface; I know it from the underground."
"Some job." She abruptly changed the subject. "Do you believe that whoever took Lisa is still down there?"
Corelli shrugged in answer, but the question unsettled him. He was beginning to get a feeling about this whole mess--a feeling that told him he wasn't just dealing with some creep who snatched kids off platforms and dragged them into tunnels.
"Frank, be honest with me. You owe me that much. They took my baby," she said sorrowfully, "and I cried in front of you. I don't cry in front of every man I meet--cop or no cop."
"I really don't have any theories about what actually happened. It has occurred to me that someone who knew the subway system inside-out might have taken Lisa into the tunnel. The logical thing is to think she was taken upstairs; I'm not so sure."
"Oh, God," Louise gasped. "My poor baby."
"There are two sets of tracks on that particular line--local and express. A knowledgeable man could jump from one set of tracks to the other to avoid oncoming trains; there are also other alternatives. Anyway, once down the line at another station where no one was looking for him, he might easily come up on the platform, then leave." And as Corelli said it, he knew it was bullshit. Alive or dead, Lisa Hill was still in the subway.
"What are the chances that that happened, Frank?"
"I wish I could tell you, but I can't." Jesus, life was so unfair. Why the hell did he have to meet Louise Hill now? Why not later, when this was done with. Or better still, months before, when they could have started a relationship like two ordinary human beings.
He looked at his watch: he was already an hour late for work. "I've got to go."
Louise saw him to the door, where they hovered a moment or two longer than necessary. "I wish this hadn't happened, Frank. Not just for Lisa's sake, but for mine. People shouldn't have to meet like this," she admitted softly, echoing Corelli's thoughts.
"You and me both," he agreed. "But it's happened, and I'm going to do my damnedest to work it out. If I need any more help..."
"Call me," she said without hesitation. "And thanks for being so nice earlier."
Corelli left with a smile on his face, but back on the street he forced himself to forget Louise Hill and to concentrate on the figure she'd seen in the subway. That was no pile of newspapers blowing along the tracks. It was someone walking, creeping along to avoid detection. He was sure of it. Now all he had to do was prove it.
"He said gray, man. Like a bag of rags dumped near the track. That's all I can remember." Miguel Esperanza was no longer
"Hey, are you going to be okay?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm sorry," she apologized while frantically trying to erase the stream of tears. "I don't know what's happening tome."
"It's called delayed reaction. There's nothing to worry about." Corelli intended to take her by the hand and lead her back into the living room. Instead, he put his arms around her and pressed her head to his shoulder. Louise tensed momentarily, and when the awkwardness of the moment passed, she relaxed.
"How about giving me a second chance with that coffee?" she finally asked as she extricated herself from his arms.
"Leave that to me. You go sit down." Louise began to protest. "And I won't take no for an answer."
She smiled, pushed aside an errant lock of hair, then left without further protest.
"So, if the NYPD is handling the case, why are you here, Frank?" Louise asked twenty minutes later. Corelli made good coffee, and it revived her almost as much as his earlier kindness had.
"Let's just say I'm moonlighting. The boys in blue know this town from the surface; I know it from the underground."
"Some job." She abruptly changed the subject. "Do you believe that whoever took Lisa is still down there?"
Corelli shrugged in answer, but the question unsettled him. He was beginning to get a feeling about this whole mess--a feeling that told him he wasn't just dealing with some creep who snatched kids off platforms and dragged them into tunnels.
"Frank, be honest with me. You owe me that much. They took my baby," she said sorrowfully, "and I cried in front of you. I don't cry in front of every man I meet--cop or no cop."
"I really don't have any theories about what actually happened. It has occurred to me that someone who knew the subway system inside-out might have taken Lisa into the tunnel. The logical thing is to think she was taken upstairs; I'm not so sure."
"Oh, God," Louise gasped. "My poor baby."
"There are two sets of tracks on that particular line--local and express. A knowledgeable man could jump from one set of tracks to the other to avoid oncoming trains; there are also other alternatives. Anyway, once down the line at another station where no one was looking for him, he might easily come up on the platform, then leave." And as Corelli said it, he knew it was bullshit. Alive or dead, Lisa Hill was still in the subway.
"What are the chances that that happened, Frank?"
"I wish I could tell you, but I can't." Jesus, life was so unfair. Why the hell did he have to meet Louise Hill now? Why not later, when this was done with. Or better still, months before, when they could have started a relationship like two ordinary human beings.
He looked at his watch: he was already an hour late for work. "I've got to go."
Louise saw him to the door, where they hovered a moment or two longer than necessary. "I wish this hadn't happened, Frank. Not just for Lisa's sake, but for mine. People shouldn't have to meet like this," she admitted softly, echoing Corelli's thoughts.
"You and me both," he agreed. "But it's happened, and I'm going to do my damnedest to work it out. If I need any more help..."
"Call me," she said without hesitation. "And thanks for being so nice earlier."
Corelli left with a smile on his face, but back on the street he forced himself to forget Louise Hill and to concentrate on the figure she'd seen in the subway. That was no pile of newspapers blowing along the tracks. It was someone walking, creeping along to avoid detection. He was sure of it. Now all he had to do was prove it.
"He said gray, man. Like a bag of rags dumped near the track. That's all I can remember." Miguel Esperanza was no longer
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