If Angels Fall (11 page)

His fuckup last year on Tanita Marie Donner’s murder
brought it all to the surface. He had deceived himself about priorities. What
he invested every day in the pursuit of vainglory could be had by anyone for
fifty cents. But the price exacted from his family and himself was
incalculable. Now he was alone in his room with everything he had thought
valuable: his awards, his jobs, himself, and a pile of newspapers threatening
to spill across the floor.

How could he have been so stupid?

What had he done to Ann? To Zach? He was so sorry. He
had to call them. Had to tell them. Right now. He heard the chink of glass as
he rose to go to the phone and nearly fell down. It was three-thirty in the
morning. He was drunk. Forget it. Staggering to bed, he noticed the Metro
University envelope sticking from his jacket pocket. Scanning the latter about
Dr. Martin’s bereavement research, he scoffed and tossed it. Then he saw
another envelope in his jacket, from the photo department. The borrowed
snapshot of Danny Raphael Becker. Someone had slipped it in his pocket with a
note suggesting he return it to the Beckers in person. He looked at it for a
long time. Well, this was one story he wouldn’t be fucking up. Tenderly, he
propped up Danny’s picture on the mantel next to the little framed photograph
of his son, Zach.

The phone
jangled. Half asleep, Reed grabbed it.

“You up Reed?”

“No.”

Silence. Reed squeezed the receiver. “Who the hell is
this?”

The caller sighed “You sober, Reed?”

Myron Benson’s voice rattled him out of drowsiness.
Since the fuckup, the metro editor no longer acknowledged Reed in the newsroom.
Why was he calling? Bored tormenting him with probation? Did he reach a
decision on Reed’s fate? Reed hadn’t seen today’s paper. Did he screw up? Was
that it? Was Benson going to fire him now?

“What do you want?”

“Read your story today. Good job getting the father.”

Reed waited for the “but”

“I want you to cover the Becker press conference
today.”

Reed sat up. “Duggan told me last night you pulled me
off the story”

“Changed my mind. For now, you will now be involved in
our coverage. I want to see where this abduction thing is going.”

“Well, I have a few theories.”

“Shove ‘em up your ass. I want solid reporting.
Understand?”

“I understand.” That you’re a fucking prick.

“I also want a feature on Dr. Martin’s bereavement
research at the university. I read her letter. Tie it in with the Becker case.”

“Right”

“And Reed, any incompetence will be noted.”

Like pulling wings off of flies. You loving this
Benson?

Quit moping and do something about it, he decided after
shaving and dressing. He had under an hour before the press conference. No time
for breakfast. He snatched two bananas to eat on the way. Remembering to grab
the snapshot of Danny Becker from the mantel brought him face-to-face with Ann,
Zach, and his own guilt.

Quit moping. Do something.

He checked his watch

He punched the number, it had been weeks since they
had talked. What if she called a lawyer? How would he begin? I love you and
Zach more than anything and I want us back together. He now realized he may be
wrong and was ready to admit it.

It rang twice.

“Hello?” Ann’s mother said.

“Hello, Doris.”

“Oh, hello Tom.” No Malice. Doris was not an
interfering mother-in-law. She was always pleasant to him.

“I see you been busy.” Doris was a faithful
Star
reader.

“Yes.” Not knowing what to say, he said, “I hope
you’re well.”

“I’m fine, Tom. And you.”

:Me?” He saw the empty Jack Daniel’s bottle. “I’m
okay.”

“It’s so terribly sad, don’t you think?”

Was she referring to the kidnapping, or her daughter’s
marriage to him? She continued. “That little boy, Danny Becker. His mother and
father must be sick with worry.”

“I’m sure they are.”

The extension clicked.

“Tom…?”

Ann’s voice was balm to him. For he accepted that he
could have been wrong and wanted to tell her. She and Zach were his life. He
knew he could not live without them and he wanted to tell her. But he didn’t.

All he managed was, “Hi Ann.”

“Hi. How are you doing?”

“Well, I’ve been better. How are you doing?”

“We’re fine.”

“Do you guys need anything?”

“Nothing.”

“How’s the car running?”

“The transmission feels funny.”

“It was starting to slip just before you...” He
stopped himself before saying: just before you left me. “Take it to Otto’s. The
warranty’s still good.”

“Okay.”

“Want me to make the appointment?”

“I’ll do it.”

A few awkward seconds passed.

“I read your story today about this horrible kidnapping.
If anything ever Zach...”

“They’re going hard on the investigation. I’m heading
to a press conference. Ann, I want to see you, to talk about things.”

“It’s Zach, isn’t it?”

Zach? He was puzzled. “Why do you say that?”

“I thought he might have called you. He’s been having
nightmares.” Her voice became a whisper. “He misses you.”

“He misses me?”

Reed seethed with conflicting emotions. What did you
expect, Ann? You paint me as some evil leper because I enjoy my job. You yank
him out of the only home he’s known, take him away from his friends, his
neighborhood. He’s probably scared to death of this kidnapping shit. He’s got
to get up at five-thirty every morning now to be driven across the goddamned
bay to school. He’s had to miss soccer, which he lives for. You throw his
little world into a goddamn blender. He misses what you took him away from: his
home.

Hold everything.

He was wrong. Only a fool would blame Ann. Blame
yourself, Reed.

“I miss both of you,” he said.

“Then why haven’t you come to him?”

“When you moved to Berkeley I took it to mean that you
didn’t want to see me. I swear that’s what I thought you wanted. I had to fight
the urge to see you. I used to park down the street from your mother’s house,
hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

“You did?”

“I don’t know what the rules are, Ann.”

“Zach came home from school one day, asking about you
and when we were going to stop being mad and all move back home.”

“He cuts through the crap, doesn’t he?”

They both chuckled faintly, leaving Zach’s question
alone.

“Ann, I want to get together. I have some things I
want to say.”

“Well, Zach’s been waiting to visit you at the paper.
Why don’t we drop by and have lunch sometime this week?”

“It’s a date. Do you think he wants to talk to me for
a bit?”

“Sure, just a minute.”

Ann put the receiver down. A few seconds later Tom
heard the pounding of Zach’s sneakers approaching the phone.

“Dad?”

Reed felt something in his throat. “You being good,
Zach?”

“Yup.”

“Are you being nice to Grandma?”

“Yup.” Then he whispered, “I even remember to leave
the toilet seat down after I go to the bathroom.”

“Wonderful.”

“Dad, are we going to move back home?”

“We’re working on it. We’re working on it, okay?”

“Dad, you want us all to move back home, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Me, too. Mom does, too. I heard her telling Grandma.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. Anything you want to talk
about?”

“That little boy that got kidnapped yesterday, I saw
his picture in your paper. Is that boy dead?”

“Nobody knows. The police are working real hard on the
case.”

“But the police are going to catch the kidnapper,
right? They’re going to catch him before he takes more kids, right, Dad?”

Reed ran his hand over his face. “Zach, your mother
and I love you, more than you ever know. Do you hear me, son?”

“I guess.” His voice was weak.

“And it’s all right to be a little nervous and extra
careful to always not to talk to strangers. But Zach, don’t go crazy in your
head over it. Don’t confuse it with what’s happening with us. Okay? Mom and I
are working on moving back together.”

“But when, Dad? I want to go home....” Zach’s voice
broke into a gut-wrenching plea that nearly winded Reed.

“I don’t know when, son.’

Zack was crying softly.

“Zack, it’s all right to be sad. I’m sad, too. But you
have to be strong and patient for Mom and me. Can you do it?”

“Uh-huh, I’ll try.”

“we’ll do everything we can. Now, I promise I will
talk to you again real soon.” Reed looked at his watch. “Tell Mom I will call
her. Now I have to go, son.”

Reed hung up and hurried to his Comet.

Danny Becker
woke up afraid and hungry. This strange place smelled bad, like
animal cages at the zoo. His mouth tasted funny. “Dad!” Danny waited. Nothing.
“Mommy! Where are you?”

Danny listened. Still nothing.

Something was wrong. He had his shoes on. Mommy never
let him sleep in bed with his shoes on. His breathing quickened. He was so
scared, sitting here on the smelly old mattress. The room was lit by a naked,
dim bulb casting long shadows on the concrete walls. One tiny window had bars
on the inside. Newspapers covered the glass. Danny noticed a cup of milk, plate
of cookies and a sandwich on the floor.

He cried as he ate. The sandwich was peanut butter and
jam. Not nice like Mommy makes. The jam was dripping off the sides. The cookies
were cream cookies, the fat ones. He remembered being on the subway with Daddy
when he got bumped out the door and fell. He was lifted up from behind by hands
that were strong like Daddy’s. But they weren’t Daddy’s. They held him funny.
At first Danny thought it as a game because they were going somewhat fast. But
when the person carrying him stumbled, he said a bad word. Danny tried to
scream, but a stinky wet cloth smothered his face.

Danny had to pee. He replaced a half-eaten cookie on
the plate, stood up, and looked around. He had to find the bathroom. He went to
the door, reached up, gripped the knob, and turned.

It opened.

The hallway was dark. A shaft of light from a TV
illuminated a stairway, and distinct, rhythmic
squeak-creak
sounds came
from above.

Sniffling, Danny tiptoed up the stairs. He heard a
bark. A little blond dog waited for him at the top of the stairs.

It was brighter on the next floor and the bathroom was
near the stairs. Danny entered and left the door open so it would be known he
was doing the right thing. The dog waited for him at the door. He was friendly
and licked Danny’s hand.