Her lips are numb. ‘Robbie, I have to go.’
‘Emma, wait—’
‘If you need me, call Kirby and tell him to get a message to Travis Bell. Travis Bell,’ she repeats, the sounds feeling strange in her mouth.
‘Emma—’
Emma hangs up. She can’t feel her fingers, so the receiver clatters back into the handset cradle. The white noise is returning. She knows that when she starts experiencing dissociative symptoms, she needs to move to release them. It’s important that she move. So she stands up from her chair, which falls over behind her.
The crash of the chair hitting the floor ripples out, and the echoes in her head domino together, and the whole world shatters into pieces with a sound like the smashing of a thousand water glasses.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It’s ironic, Kristin thinks, that law enforcement is the service everyone is supposed to call in an emergency, because law enforcement personnel are truly dreadful at dealing with a crisis.
Shewas the one who dealt with Emma’s collapse in the side office: finding a blanket, turning off the lights, speaking in soft, quiet tones – basic things that Kristin wishes someone had done for her when she was upset, on the day of Simon’s arrest. She ushered people out of the room, and told Travis Bell to find some ice for Emma to hold. That was helpful, but when Emma began hyperventilating, Kristin moved to stage two. She made Travis bundle Emma up and carry her outside, where the FBI agent, Napier, met them in the parking area. Napier drove them all back to where they’ve been staying at the Hampton Inn, and being at the hotel has made things easier.
Kristin gave Travis strict instructions that he was the one in charge of Emma’s prescription bottle for the moment, and he was not to allow her any more Valium than what she’d already taken. Then Kristin borrowed some money from him and caught a cab to the nearest mall for necessary supplies. The best remedy would bea puppy, but of course that option was not available; Kristin made do with ice cream and a few other items. Back at the hotel, Emma couldn’t be persuaded to eat any of the ice cream, so Kristin made her walk on the carpet in bare feet and drink some soda.
Now the immediate crisis is over, and Kristin is sitting on one of the ghastly plastic chairs outside her and Emma’s ground-floor hotel room, leafing through a copy ofVogueshe found at a newsstand near Kroger. She’s already examined and disapproved of the Valentino looks in the magazine. Her eye lingers on a lovely ensemble from Ralph Lauren as Travis Bell emerges from the room. He settles on the second plastic chair on the other side of the glass-topped table, rubbing his face.
‘She’s resting.’ He drops his hands. His tie is loosened in front, and he looks hideously tired. ‘She seems better, but she doesn’t want to talk.’
‘I don’t imagine so,’ Kristin says, perusing the lipsticks in a Lancôme advertisement, turning the page.
‘I said I’d stay with her.’ His voice is ragged. ‘But I don’t know what to say to her.’
‘Say nothing,’ Kristin suggests. The Giorgio Armani spreads are not her style at all; Oscar de la Renta, however, is divine. ‘I don’t think much of what you say is getting through right now. Just be present. Tuck the blankets around her. Hold her hand, if she’s comfortable with that.’
Travis talks as if he hasn’t heard, looking away across the concrete parking lot behind the hotel. ‘Today is the worst possible day. It’s September tenth – the anniversary of when she was taken. She’s here in Pittsburgh, miles from her family, everything compoundedby what we’re doing …’ He rubs a palm across his jaw again. ‘Seeing her disconnect like that, back at headquarters, it scared the shit out of me. I’m so used to Emma being together.’
‘She’s not a robot,’ Kristin points out. The Chanel colors are like jewels this season.
‘I know that,’ he says.
‘Does she need to be strong for you to feel comfortable?’
‘Of course not,’ he says sharply. Then his shoulders lose their stiffness. ‘I just … I want to be there for her, but I don’t know what she needs.’
Kristin, who has had more experience with dissociation than most law enforcement personnel, finally loses patience.
‘Don’t you?’ Kristin can’t fathom his thought processes. ‘It’s very simple, Travis – she needs to know that you’re on her side.’
Travis’s expression is wounded. ‘Iamon her side. She knows I’m on her side.’
‘But you’re not.’ Kristin doesn’t know how to break it to him gently. This is the best she can do on short notice. ‘Your loyalty is to the bureau, not to Emma.’
‘I can still do my job and be her friend.’ His forehead is screwed up.
‘No,’ Kristin says, turning another page absently. ‘You can’t.’
‘That’sbullshit. I’m in a better position to help her—’
‘She doesn’t want to behelped. She’s not a project.’
‘I never said—’
‘Anyway, I don’t think that’s true.’ Kristin lifts her chin. ‘The bureau employs you. If you had to make a choice, you’d choose your job, wouldn’t you?’
