In a way he wished he could reassure her that soon it would be over, because to reassure her was to reassure himself. He understood that the pain in his arm was distracting him. The dog bites had seemed to be healing, but now the worst one had become inflamed again.

He had left Robby's keys in the ignition of the car. Repelled at the thought of Robby's lifeless body, covered by blankets and sprawled in the trunk, he clicked the garage door open, got in Robby's car, and backed it out. In a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity, he had his second rental car safely hidden in the garage.

With the headlights off until he was halfway down the block, The Owl began driving Robby Brent's car the few miles to its final destination in the Hudson River.

Forty minutes later, his task accomplished and having walked from the spot where he had sunk the car, he was safely back in his room. His mission tomorrow would be treacherous, he reflected, but he would do his best to minimize the danger. Before daybreak he would walk back to Laura's house. Maybe he would have Laura call Meredith and say she was her birth mother. She would ask to meet her outside West Point for just a few minutes after breakfast. Meredith knows she's adopted, The Owl thought. She talked about it freely enough to me. There's no nineteen-year-old who wouldn't jump at the chance to meet her birth mother, he was confident of that.

And then when he had Meredith, Laura would phone Jean for him.

Sam Deegan wasn't stupid. Even now he might be delving into the deaths of the other girls from the lunch table, investigating the accidents that hadn't been accidents. It wasn't until Gloria that I began to leave my signature, The Owl thought, and the irony is that the first one had been a trinket the stupid woman bought herself.

"You've really made it big, and to think we used to call you 'The Owl,'" she'd said with a laugh, a little drunk, still totally insensitive. Then she showed him the pewter owl, still wrapped in plastic. "I happened to see it at one of those places in the mall that sell this kind of junk," she explained, "and when you phoned to say you were in town, I went back and bought one. I thought we'd have a good laugh about it."

He had a lot of reasons to be grateful to Gloria. After she died he'd bought a dozen of those five-dollar, inch-long pewter owls. Now there were three left. He could get more, of course, but when he had used the three he still had, it might be the end of his need for them. Laura and Jean and Meredith. One owl for each.

The Owl set his alarm for 5:00 a.m. and went to sleep.

77

To sleep, perchance to dream, Jean thought as she restlessly turned on her side and then onto her back. Finally she turned on the light and got out of bed. The room felt too warm. She walked across the room and opened the window wider. Maybe I'll get to sleep now, she thought.

The baby picture of Lily was on the night table. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the photograph. How could I have let her go? she agonized. Why did I let her go? She felt as if she was on an emotional roller coaster. Tonight I'm going to meet the man and woman who were given Lily right after she was born. What do I say to them? Jean wondered. That I am grateful to them? I am, but I'm ashamed to admit that I'm also jealous of them. I wanted to experience everything that they experienced with her. Suppose they change their minds and decide that I shouldn't meet her yet?

I need to meet her, and then I need to go home. I want to get away from all the Stonecroft people. Last night the atmosphere at President Downes' cocktail party was dreadful, she thought as she turned off the light and lay down again. Everyone seemed to be uptight, but each in a different way. Mark-what is going on inside him? she wondered. He was so quiet and went out of his way to avoid me. Carter Stewart was in a foul mood, growling that he'd lost an entire day's work chasing after Robby's scripts. Jack Emerson had an edge on him and was gulping double scotches. Gordon seemed okay until President Downes kept trying to show him blueprints of the proposed new building. Then he practically exploded. He pointed out that at the dinner he had presented a check for $100,000 for the building fund. I can't believe the way he raised his voice and asked if anyone had noticed that the more you give, the more people try to drag out of you.

Carter was just as rude. He said that since he never made donations to anything, he didn't have that problem. Then Jack Emerson followed those two by bragging that he was donating half a million dollars to Stonecroft for the new communications center.

Only Mark and I said nothing, Jean thought. I will make a donation, but it's going to be for scholarships, not buildings.

She didn't want to think anymore about Mark.

She looked at the clock. It was a quarter of five. What should I wear tonight? I didn't bring all that many changes. I don't know what kind of people Lily's adoptive parents are. Do they dress casually, or do they tend to be more formal? The brown tweed jacket and slacks I wore on the drive might be the best choice. It's a sort of in-between outfit.

I know those pictures the photographer took at President Downes' house are going to be awful. I don't think one of the men even attempted a smile, and I felt as if I were grinning like the Cheshire cat. Then, when that nervy kid Jake Perkins showed up and asked to take a picture of all of us for the Gazette, I thought President Downes would have a heart attack. But I felt sorry for the poor kid because of the way Downes practically threw him out.

I hope Jake doesn't have Georgetown on his list of colleges he wants to attend, although he certainly does make life interesting.

Thinking about Jake brought a smile to Jean's lips, relieving for the moment the tension that had been building up since she had heard she was going to meet Lily's adoptive parents.

The smile disappeared as quickly as it came. Where was Laura? she thought. This is the beginning of the fifth day since she disappeared. I can't stay here indefinitely. I have classes next week. Why do I persist in believing that I'll hear from her?

I am not going to be able to go back to sleep, she finally decided. It's much too early to get up, but at least I can read. I hardly opened yesterday's newspaper and don't know what's going on in the world.

She went back across the room to the desk, picked up the newspaper, and brought it back to the bed. She propped up the pillow and began to read, but then her eyes started to close. She did not feel the newspaper slip from her grasp, as she finally fell into a heavy sleep.

At a quarter of seven her phone rang. When Jean saw the time on the clock next to the phone, her throat closed. It has to be bad news, she thought. Something has happened to Laura-or to Lily! She grabbed the receiver. "Hello," she said anxiously.

"Jeannie… it's me."

"Laura!" Jean cried. "Where are you? How are you?"

Laura was sobbing so violently that it was hard to understand what she was saying. "Jean… help me. I'm so scared. I've done such a… crazy… thing… Sorry… Faxes… about… about Lily."

Jean stiffened. "You never met Lily. I know that."

"Robby… he… he… took… her… brush. It… was… his… idea."

"Where is Robby?"

"On… way… California. He's… blam-blaming… me. Jeannie, meet me… please. By yourself, just by yourself."

"Laura, where are you?"

"In… motel… Someone… recognized me. I have to… go."

"Laura, where can I meet you?"

"Jeannie… the Lookout."

"You mean Storm King Lookout?"

"Yes… yes."

Laura's sobs became louder. "Kill… myself…"

"Laura, listen to me," Jean said frantically. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. It's going to be all right. I promise you, it's going to be all right."