Teresa didn’t call in advance. She simply arrived at Frye’s house. The woman almost peed her pants when she opened the door.
“Mrs. Salvi,” Frye said, even though they’d never been introduced.
Of course she knows me, Teresa thought. The Salvis are Howard Beach royalty.
“I just came to thank you. Mother to mother,” she added, letting her voice catch.
Emma Frye, of course, invited her in for coffee and apologized profusely that the house was such a mess. Teresa in turn apologized for showing up unannounced. They bonded like long-lost sisters.
After ten minutes, Teresa got to the crux of it all. “So how did you come to find my Enzo’s journal?” she asked offhandedly.
“It was in my son’s room,” Emma said. “My husband and I are renovating, and I was collecting all of Gideon’s old things when I found the journal.”
“Gideon,” Teresa said. “I remember a boy named Gideon, but not Frye.”
“Oh, my first husband, Gideon’s father, passed away two years ago. We owned the flower shop on Cross Bay Boulevard.”
“Cross Bay Flowers? I’ve ordered from there many times.”
Emma beamed. “I know. I’m the one who takes your orders over the phone.”
“What a small world,” Teresa said. “Now I know who your son is. The name Frye threw me off.”
“I’m remarried now.”
“How wonderful that you could find happiness so soon after your loss,” Teresa said. “I had no idea that our sons were friends back in high school.”
“Me either. You know teenage boys. They don’t tell their mothers anything.”
Irish boys, maybe. But Enzo told me plenty. Our sons were never friends. Ever.
Teresa sipped her coffee. “This explains how Enzo’s journal wound up in your son’s room. The boys were probably hanging out together.”
Emma shrugged. “I guess so.”
“And how is your Gideon doing these days?”
“Fine…” Emma hesitated.
“You say fine, but it sounds like something is wrong,” Teresa said.
“No, no. I was about to say I only wish I could see more of him, but that’s such an insensitive thing to say to a woman who can never see her son. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Salvi.”
“No apologies necessary, and please, you must call me Teresa. All my friends do. But now I’m curious why you can’t see more of Gideon. Did he move away?”
“Oh no, Gideon is living in Manhattan. But he’s so busy saving everyone else, he barely has time for a phone call from his mother.”
“So he’s a doctor,” Teresa said.
“If only,” Emma said. “Then I wouldn’t have to worry so much. Gideon is a New York City police officer. Very dangerous job, but he loves it.”
Teresa’s hand shook, and she set down her coffee cup before she dropped it. She forced a smile. “It’s always good to see a boy make something of himself. I only wish I had been able to see my Enzo do the same, but thank you for bringing a little piece of my son back to his family. It’s a great comfort to all of us.”
Teresa stood up, the smile still plastered to her face. She thanked Emma one last time, then bolted from the house.
She couldn’t wait to tell Joe that the Mick bastard who had Enzo’s journal all these years—and the one who probably murdered him—was a fucking cop.
Chapter 57
Mommy’s coming, Kimi. I’m sorry for what happened. Mommy’s coming to make it better. Mommy loves you so much.
Rachael O’Keefe knew she was going to die. She knew it as soon as they stripped her down and put her in a white Hazmat suit.
Then they gagged her, chained her to a pipe, and left her without food, water, or hope.
Talking to Kimi made it easier. Those two words—Mommy’s coming—became her mantra. They were on a loop in her brain, and she chanted them silently, hoping they could lull her to sleep. But the blinding light, the damp cold, and the stench of mold made it difficult to sleep.
And the fear made it impossible.
Mommy is in a dungeon, Kimi. But don’t cry. Pretty soon Mommy will…
The lights went out with a thunk that echoed off the corrugated metal door. Rachael inhaled sharply. Were they back? Were the lights on a timer? What now?
A hum. A motor. And then she felt it. Air. Warm air blowing down on her from above.
Thank you, Kimi, thank you, Kimi, she chanted. Her head dropped, and she let her body sink into the blessed warmth and darkness.
She was just crossing the sleep threshold when the barking began. She jerked awake. A second dog joined in with a low, threatening growl, and she screamed in terror, but the only sound that made its way past the gag was a muffled whine.