My heart was stuck in my throat. My skin crawled, felt as if it were shrinking and no longer fit my body. I rushed across the room and grabbed the phone before the second ring. My hand was trembling.

The strange, muffled voice scared me: “You have e-mail.”

I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t think at all.

I’d brought my laptop with me on vacation.

Who knows that I have my computer here? Who could know a small detail like that about me? Who’s been watching me? Watching us?

I yanked open the closet door, grabbed the computer, hooked it up, and logged on. I scrolled down the e-mail to the last message.

It was short and very concise.

SHE’S SAFE FOR NOW. WE HAVE HER.

The curt, cold message was worse than anything I could imagine. Each word was branded into my brain, repeating over and over.

“She’s safe for now.

“We have her.”

Book Three: ELEGY

Book Three
ELEGY

Chapter 46

SAMPSON ARRIVED at the Belmont Hotel the day after Christine disappeared. I hurried down to the small front lobby to meet him. He threw his large arms around me, clasping me tightly but gently, as if he were holding a child in his arms.

“You okay? You holding up?” he asked.

“Not even close,” I told him. “I spent half a day checking the e-mail address I got last night. It came from [email protected]. The address was falsified. Nothing is going right.”

“We’ll get Christine back. We’ll find her.” He told me what he knew I wanted to hear, but I was sure that he also truly believed it in his heart. Sampson is the most positive human being I’ve ever met. He won’t be denied.

“Thanks for coming. It means a lot to all of us. I can’t think straight about anything. I’m really rattled, John. I can’t even begin to imagine who could have done this. Maybe the Weasel — I don’t know.”

“If you could think straight now,” John said, “I’d be more worried about you than usual. That’s why I’m here.”

“I kind of knew you’d come.”

“Of course you did. I’m Sampson. Occam’s razor and all that other deep philosophical shit at work here.”

There were a half-dozen guests in the hotel lobby, and all of them looked our way. The hotel staff knew about Christine’s disappearance, and I’m sure that the guests at the Belmont knew as well, as did just about everybody else on the small, chatty island.

“The story’s on the front page of the local newspaper,” Sampson said. “People were reading copies at the airport.”