“Lavelle exists,” Jack said.
Gresham said, “You seem so certain of that. Why?”
“I don’t know, really.” Jack looked out the window at the snowswept
towers of Manhattan. “I won’t pretend I’ve got good reasons. It’s just
. . . instinct. I feel it in my bones. Lavelle is real. He’s out
there somewhere.
He’s out there . . . and I think he’s the most vicious, dangerous son
of a bitch any of us is ever going to run up against.”
At Wellton School, when classes on the third floor recessed for lunch,
Penny Dawson wasn’t hungry. She didn’t even bother to go to her newly
assigned locker and get her lunchbox. She stayed at her desk and kept
her head down on her folded arms, eyes closed, pretending to nap. A
sour, icy ball lay lead-heavy in the pit of her stomach. She was
sick-not with any virus, but with fear.
She hadn’t told anyone about the silver-eyed goblins in the basement. No
one would believe she’d really seen them. And, for sure, no one would
believe the goblins were eventually going to attempt to kill her.
But she knew what was coming. She didn’t know why it was happening to
her, of all people. She didn’t know exactly how it would happen or
when. She didn’t know where the goblins came from. She didn’t know if
she had a chance of escaping them; maybe there was no way out. But she
did know what they intended to do to her.
Oh, yes.
It wasn’t merely her own fate that worried her. She was scared for
Davey, too. If the goblins wanted her, they might also want him.
She felt responsible for Davey, especially since their mother had died.
After all, she was his big sister. A big sister had an obligation to
watch over a little brother and protect him, even if he could be a pain
in the neck sometimes.
Right now, Davey was down on the second floor with his classmates and
teachers. For the time being, at least, he was safe. The goblins
surely wouldn’t show themselves when a lot of people were around; they
seemed to be very secretive creatures.
But what about later? What would happen when school was out and it was
time to go home?
She didn’t see how she could protect herself or Davey.
Head down on her arms, eyes closed, pretending to nap, she said a silent
prayer. But she didn’t think it would do any good.
In the hotel lobby, Jack and Rebecca stopped at the public phones. He
tried to call Nayva Rooney. Because of the task force assignment, he
wouldn’t be able to pick up the kids after school, as planned, and he
hoped Nayva would be free to meet them and keep them at her place for a
while. She didn’t answer her phone, and he thought perhaps she was
still at his apartment, cleaning, so he tried his own number, too, but
he didn’t have any luck.
Reluctantly, he called Faye Jamison, his sister-in-law, Linda’s only
sister. Faye had loved Linda almost as much as Jack himself had loved
her. For that reason he had considerable affection for Faye-although
she wasn’t always an easy person to like. She was convinced that no one
else’s life could be well-run without the benefit of her advice. She
meant well. Her unsolicited counsel was based on a genuine concern for
others, and she delivered her advice in a gentle, motherly voice even if
the target of her kibitzing was twice her age. But she was nonetheless
irritating for all of her good intentions and there were times when her
soft voice seemed, to Jack, as piercing as a police siren.
Like now, on the telephone, after he asked if she would pick up the kids
at school this afternoon, she said, “Of course, Jack, I’ll be glad to,
but if they expect you to be there and then you don’t show, they’re
going to be disappointed, and if this sort of thing happens too often,
they’re going to feel worse than just disappointed; they’re going to
feel abandoned.”
“Faye-”
“Psychologists say that when children have already lost one parent, they