The Tulip Eaters

6

Late that evening, Nora sat in the living room with Marijke. Both were exhausted after the funeral and Richards’s discouraging news. The police were tapping her telephone, but no call had come from the kidnapper.

“I don’t think I can take any more today,” mumbled Nora.

Marijke poured Nora a glass of cold white wine and then one for herself. “Maybe we should try to sleep.”

Nora glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s only ten. I’m too wound up. How can I sleep when Rose is still out there?”

“Nora,” said Marijke softly. “You’ve been through so much today. The funeral, Rose, Richards...”

“I know, I know.” She joined Marijke on the couch and sipped her wine. Instead of calming her, it made her more anxious.

Marijke suppressed a yawn. “I think I might turn in.”

Nora noted the dark circles under her friend’s eyes. “You should. You’ve been shoring me up for three whole days.”

“I got a call from the nursing home. My mother isn’t doing well. After two strokes, I’m not sure how much longer she can hang on.”

“Oh, God, Marijke. I’ve been so selfish. How old is she now?”

“Eighty-five.” Marijke sighed. “I’ll have to go back soon.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” No, she thought sadly. I won’t.

Nora stood and patted Marijke’s shoulder. “Go to bed and get some sleep. We’ll both feel better in the morning.”

Marijke yawned. “Don’t stay up too long.”

Nora summoned a smile. “I won’t.” After Marijke said good-night,, Nora paced for an hour, waiting for something. Someone. For Rose. Her wandering was useless, but she couldn’t face her empty bed and the nightmares she knew would come. She sat on the couch, staring at the Sony Walkman that Anneke had given Nora on her birthday, a wildly extravagant gift at two hundred dollars, the first gadget of its kind. Anneke had known how much Nora loved listening to music while she jogged at Memorial Park.

Nora stood and continued her pacing. As she passed the front window, a dark, official-looking Ford pulled up to the curb. A man got out and strode up the walkway. Nora looked through the peephole and opened the door before he could ring.

“Lieutenant?” Panic rose in her throat. “Have you found something?”

Richards shook his head. “Not yet.” He stood awkwardly on the doorstep. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back and led him into the living room, avoiding the thick blue blanket she had spread over the bloody carpet. She couldn’t bear the sight of it.

When they sat, Nora turned to him. “I’m confused. Why are you here?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “I thought I’d drop by after you chewed me out this afternoon.”

Nora felt her color rise. “Oh...that. I was completely out of line.”

“No, I was thinking like a cop. I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with, even though I’ve seen so many parents go through it.”

“I owe you an apology.”

“No, no, I have a daughter, too. I can’t imagine how I would feel if the same thing happened to her.”

“Where is she now?”

“With her mother.” He loosened his tie and sighed. “Melissa’s autistic. It’s been a hard road.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Nora felt terrible as she watched him stare at the floor. “How severe is it?”

He looked at her with pained eyes. “She’s nonverbal, has been since birth. Now she’s seven and things aren’t much better. She needs round-the-clock care. I couldn’t be there. My schedule.” He shrugged. “My wife couldn’t take it anymore and left.”

Nora didn’t know what to say. She held up a wineglass. “Red or white?”

He smiled. “Whatever you’re having.”

She waited for him to settle back and take a swallow. “I just realized I don’t even know your first name.”

“Nathan.”

She nodded. “Well, you didn’t have to come over so late just to apologize.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” he said. “But you’re right, it’s late. If you want me to go—”

Nora shook her head. “Oddly enough, I don’t. I’m terrified.”

“I hope you believe me when I say we’re doing everything we can.”

Nora felt a catch in her throat. “You don’t think you’ll find her, do you?”

“It’s way too early to think like that.”

“But how can I think about anything else? No witnesses. A murderer no one can identify. A kidnapper who hasn’t called for a ransom. My baby gone, maybe forever.” Her head fell into her hands.

She felt his arm around her shoulder. She shook her head and sobbed.

“Hey, it’s going to be all right.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” she whispered. “She’s my whole life.”

“I know. We’ll find her, I promise. You should try to get some sleep.”

They sipped the rest of their wine in silence and then she stood and walked to the foyer. Richards followed. “I’m going to do everything I can to bring Rose back to you.”

Nora felt a rush of gratitude. “I know you will. And I want to thank you—for caring.”

She watched him walk to his car, get in and drive away.

7

Nora held a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. She had slept fitfully, alternately waking in a cold panic without knowing why until the terrifying realization washed over her that Rose was really gone, maybe hurt, maybe dead. Interlaced with those terrors were images of her mother, bloody and battered, begging Nora to help her.