Wasthe man who killed Stacy Pennell the same man who had kidnapped her?

    Lucywas suddenly cold. She slipped back inside, shut the window. She walked over tothe closet, opened the door, sat down, and waited for the night to embrace her.

    Fifteenfeet below, in the gloom of the stairwell beneath the fire escape, a manstepped into the shadows and joined Lucinda Doucette in darkness.

Chapter 46

    Friday,October 29

    Inthe shower Jessica thought about the previous night. Vincent had listened toher entire well-planned speech. He had been surprisingly receptive to the idea ofadopting Carlos, considering that he was not the most open-minded person shehad ever met.

    Theymade love a second time, this time sweet, married love, and halfway through shesaw something in Vincent's dark eyes that told her they might actually do this.Later Vincent told her, in the twilight before sleep, that he wanted to meetCarlos first before even thinking about making any decision, of course. Maybehe wanted to do a little male bonding, Jessica thought. Take the kid to aFlyers game, do a few Jager Bombs, leaf through a copy of the new Maxim.

    Asshe was getting dressed, she realized that Vincent had made the bed - a first.She also noticed a flower on her pillow. Granted, it was a silk flower, andVincent had taken it from the arrangement on the dining-room table. But it wasthe thought that counted.

    Marcel'sCostume Company was a storefront on Market Street near Third. Established in1940, Marcel's carried a full line of Halloween outfits, professional make-up,wigs, and accessories. Marcel's also created costumes for local televisionshows and was quite often hired for supplemental wardrobe for Philadelphia'sbooming film-production industry.

    Buttoday it was all about Halloween. Marcel's was open twenty- four hours a daythis week, and even at 7:30 a.m. the store was half full.

    WhenJessica and Sophie walked in, Jessica saw Rory behind the counter. Rory Bianchiwas a kid from the old neighborhood who had always had a crush on Jessica, andever since ninth grade they'd had the sort of relationship where the flirtingwent on but never went anywhere.

    'Thetwo prettiest girls in Philly,' Rory said. 'In my shop!'

    'Hi,Rory!' Sophie said.

    'Heylittle darlin',' he said. 'Ready for the big night?'

    Sophienodded. A kid in a costume shop. Outside of a candy story, there was nothingcooler. Jessica remembered coming into Marcel's when she was a girl and WonderWoman had been the rage.

    'Ihave it for you right here,' Rory said.

    Ofall the costumes available - including Disney characters like Ariel from TheLittle Mermaid, which was Sophie's favorite movie - Sophie had pickedsomething called the Snowflake Fairy. Jessica had tried to explain thatHalloween was a fall holiday, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. Unlike hermother, Sophie loved the winter, especially snowflakes. Come December Sophiewas endlessly cutting them out of construction paper and dotting the house withthem.

    'Doyou want the wings and the wand, too?' Rory asked.

    Itwas a dumb question, but Jessica looked at Sophie anyway. Sophie seemed to bein a fairy trance, the reflection of white satin in her big brown eyes.

    'Sure,'Jessica said.

    'Itake it you'll want the tiara as well.'

    Jessicatook out her credit card as fast as she could, in case there was anything else.

    Sophiefloated out to the parking lot, still in a daze, the dress clutched tightly inher hands, as if Monica Quagliata might be lurking behind the next SUV - Monicawith designs on the Snowflake Fairy costume.

    Whenthey got to the car, Sophie supervised the hanging of the costume on the hookin the back, pronounced it safely stowed for the few-mile journey. She slippedinto the seat next to it, buckled in.

    BeforeJessica could start the car, a family crossed the street in front of them -mom, dad, two boys, two girls. Jessica looked over at Sophie.

    'Domost of your friends have brothers and sisters?' Jessica asked. It was arhetorical question, but one that Jessica needed to ask to get the conversationstarted.

    Sophiedidn't give this too much thought. She just nodded.

    'Doyou ever wish you had brothers and sisters?'

    Ashrug. 'Sometimes.'

    'Whatwould you think about having a brother?'

    'Abrother?'

    'Yeah.'

    'Aboy?'

    Jessicalaughed. 'Yeah. A boy, sweetie.'

    Sophiethought for a moment. 'Boys are okay. A little bossy, but okay, I guess.'

    Jessicadropped Sophie off at school, stopped at Old City Coffee on Church Street.Outside, she picked up an Inquirer and a free copy of The Report,Philly's sleaziest tabloid - and that was saying something. As expected, thecurrent spate of murders was splashed across the cover.

    PhillyNoir, the Geometry of Vengeance, screamed the headline.

    Jessicatossed the Report in the trash, tucked the Inquirer under herarm. She got into her car, wondering how Byrne was faring.

    Haveyou found them yet? The lion and the rooster and the swan? Are there others?

    What didChrista-Marie Schönburg have to do with all this?

    Shechecked her cellphone. No calls from Byrne.

    Theprimary role of the Department of Human Services was to intervene and protectneglected, abused or abandoned children, as well as to guarantee theirwell-being when there were immediate threats or impending dangers in theirlives.

    TheChildren and Youth Division provided youth and family-centered services to morethan 20,000 children and their families each year.

    Althoughthe main offices were located at 1515 Arch Street there were various facilitiesthroughout the city - temporary shelters and foster-care centers.

    Jessicaarrived at Hosanna House, a stand-alone brick building on Second Street. Shesigned in and walked to the day room at the back. She was immediately assaultedby the sound of a dozen toddlers in full morning mania. The place smelled likeorange juice and crayons.

    Carlossat at a table with two little girls and a young woman of about twenty. He worea red cardigan. He looked adorable.

    Jessicawatched him for a few minutes. Kids were unbelievably resilient, she thought.Just two weeks earlier this little boy's life had been hell on Earth.

    ButJessica knew enough, had seen enough cases of abused and neglected children toknow that many times there was residual grief and anger and fear. Most of thepeople she had arrested in the past five years were, almost to a man or woman,products of broken homes.

    Carloslooked up and saw her. He got out of his chair, rocketed across the room, andthrew his arms around her. He ran back, got a piece of paper from the table,ran back to Jessica, handed it to her.

    Itwas a crayon drawing of a room, possibly the living room where Carlos had livedwith his mother. There was something that looked like a chair and a table, anda woman in the corner with wild dark hair, eyes the size of her whole head.Patricia Lentz, Carlos's biological mother, had blonde hair, almost white.

    Itdidn't take Jessica long to realize the figure in the drawing just might beher. Right behind her was a bright sun. Jessica's heart felt ready to beat itsway out of her chest.

    Shelooked at the table in Carlos's drawing. On the table was something thatJessica had no trouble recognizing. It was a two-year- old boy's rendition of agun.