Page 72 of Mercy in Betrayal

“What is that? Let me see it.”

Sarah places the book of poetry, dog-eared and bookmarked, on my desk. I glide my hand over its cover. “You can leave.”

Sarah is quick to exit but leaves the door half-open.

I read the title. “The Lady of Shalott.”

I remember this book. It’s a story about a caged woman who dies when she goes into the outside world. I want to burn the book, but I place it gently down on the desk beside my phone. Rowan had once told me that her brother threw things when he was angry.

It really shouldn’t matter, because she isn’t here, but I don’t want to be that person. I rise and go to the bookshelves. I take down one of the hollowed-out books that holds paper maps of New York City. My father had placed them in the secret book to make the office appear less cluttered. He also said everything should have a place.

Stupid, maybe, to have paper maps when everything has gone digital, but my father was always an old-fashioned man—and a paranoid sort. He liked to spread the maps out, study his domain. Trace his fingers over the streets and alleyways.

I know New York like the back of my hand, but sometimes it’s good to have a visual. Especially now when my mind won’t settle.

I pick up the map of the Island of Manhattan; this is the area where she had spent the majority of her time.

I pause at the corner of the map where a bloodstain peeks out at me. It’s a reminder of the justice that took place in this room. It’s also a reminder that Rowan could be getting into trouble.

I think of Ivan’s warning not to kill the old man.

I run my hand across my face. If anyone harms her, I hope they get to hell before I appear.

Arturo enters the office.

“Anything?” I ask. I had Arturo get men on tracking her phone.

“Our men are trying to get the clearances for them, but it is not that easy anymore. There are so many barriers now. One inside guy isn’t enough, or the FBI and CIA would have an agent at every company.”

I glance down at the maps before me.

There is a ring in the middle of the Hudson River where my father had placed a sweating drink. Another reminder of my father, like I needed another one.

“Any updates regarding the Marzano’s?” I ask, glancing up at Arturo.

He runs a finger around his collar, his gaze shifting to the side. “Tom was placed in a tough position, sir.”

When the tension between the Marzano’s and Scarpettas was at its peak, Tom’s job was to be the mediator. He has surely communicated what took place to Luca and Carina by now, and yet Carina hasn’t called. That’s not a good sign.

“Every available man is out looking for her. She’s not at the college; no one has seen her in Chinatown. I even sent people to the Vessel.”

I had given them a list of everywhere we had visited in Manhattan. Not that I thought she would return to the place I took her virginity, but I was running out of options.

I’ve never felt this desperate before. I pick up the phone and see my reflection in the black screen. I hate how much I look like my father. I dial a number, listening as it rings.

“What?” Cassidy O’Rourke answers.

I’d remark on his phone manners, but I don’t have time. “Did Rowan return to your apartment?” I ask.

I don’t get an answer, my phone instead beginning to ring with a chat request. I hit accept, and Cassidy’s face comes into view. Judging from the background, he is outside on his terrace.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Scarpetta?”

“Rowan didn’t come home last night. No one has seen her.”

Cassidy starts cursing. His face disappears, and I hear the sound of the opening of a door. He’s speaking to someone, telling them that I’m on the phone asking where Rowan is.

Evie’s voice is close, but I can’t see her, the camera angled at the sky.

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