“I have sinned. Do you think that’s why God took my baby?”

“God didn’t take your baby. A madman did.”

“No,” Amy replied. “God took him.”

Eventually Amy said goodbye. Kelly wanted to remain with her longer but knew there were places a person had to go alone. It was then she noticed the light blinking on her answering machine. Charlie had called, with a number. Kelly wrote it down on the back of an envelope and then threw it away and got ready for bed.

But as she turned out the lights, she dialed from memory. In the dark she entered darkness and embraced it, for a short time. She was not surprised he was able to answer. She had heard he had faint feeling in his right hand.

“Hello?” he said, a dry rasp.

“It’s me,” she said softly.

Silence, breath, wonder, and fear. But was that him or her?

“Hello, Kelly,” he said. “I pray you’re well.”

“Getting there. How are you feeling?”

A chuckle, not bitter. “You know I feel nothing. Thanks to you.”

“I want to ask a question. I want you to answer it. I feel you owe me that.”

“All right.”

“Why didn’t you just kill me? Why did you have to mutilate me?”

“I told you why.”

“But you lied. I was innocent. Why did you use the acid on me?”

“That is why I used it on you. You only thought you were innocent.”

“And no one is?”

“That’s it. No one at all.”

“You’re sick,” she swore.

“No. I’m numb. You’re sick.”

“Is Julie there with you?”

Bitter now. “You wish to hurt me.”

“True.” She paused. “Julie is gone. Your son is gone. They left with Michael Grander. And you are all alone in the world.”

He was still dangerous, she should never have called.

“You sound as alone as me,” he replied.

She hung up the phone and laid back in her bed.

That night, she never did fall asleep.

FIVE

FIVE

There were more e-mails from Amy’s father to his mother, back and forth. Matt Connor had made a file of them. They helped pass the time late at night, when the baby was asleep. It was a perverse pleasure. Normal people had sex and money, love and companionship. He had a child that was not his own. The son of the man and woman he hated more than anything on the planet. Yet, after only a month, he cared for Jimmy with a depth of affection he found inexplicable. He had not disposed of the child in some third-world country as he had planned.

That said something. But what?