They Disappeared. Rick Mofina

airplane? You looked inside?”

      “Sorry.” Cole glanced at his dad, then at Beck. “It was when I thought it was my backpack. I saw the little toy plane.”

      “Everything’s in there,” Jeff said.

      “What? Okay. I’m really late.” Beck looked around to the street, closed the bag, then hoisted it onto his back. “Yes, I packed it so fast, I’m not sure what I put in there. Well, I have to split. Thanks.”

      Beck disappeared into the crowds entering Penn Station. Jeff’s attention followed him with a ping of unease before he turned to Cole.

      “Let’s get back to the hotel, son.”

      3

      New York City

      Hans Beck gripped his backpack and pinballed through Penn Station.

      For a fleeting moment he considered boarding a train, any train, and getting away.

      No use. They’re watching, waiting. And I need the money.

      Beck had lied to Jeff Griffin about having to catch a train. Instead, he had to meet his contact and complete this delivery.

      He’d nearly blown this job.

      How could he have been so stupid to have picked up the wrong bag? In his time as a courier he’d never screwed up like this. His customers were enraged. He’d never had contacts so intense. He didn’t know who they were, or what they were involved in.

      He didn’t want to know.

      When he’d given them the Griffin backpack in error, they took no comfort in his assurance he would retrieve the misplaced bag.

      Well, he did it, just as he said he would.

      So everyone should relax, he told himself. We’ve got the right bag now. Soon this would be over and he’d be on a plane to Aruba awaiting a large deposit in a numbered account.

      Beck left Penn Station and hurried by the post office and deep into the heart of the Hudson Yards. He moved quickly beyond the Long Island Rail Road maintenance tracks, where Thirty-third Street dipped into a wasteland near the Hudson River.

      He was nearly jogging now as he hurried along a chain-link fence that surrounded a site where a massive foundation, reaching down several stories, was under construction. The sun had set, the entire area was deserted. He heard the hum of a motor, then brakes, and a panel van stopped suddenly beside him.

      A side door slid open and he got in. It was crowded inside because several men were in the back working. A couple of them were talking on cell phones. Two others were working quickly on laptops.

      The men had already acted on the information sheet they’d found in Cole Griffin’s bag and had quickly searched the family. They’d also taken pictures of Jeff and Cole on the street, making the exchange with Beck.

      Everything had unfolded with urgency.

      The men seized his backpack, dumped its contents, probed them, then tore through the empty backpack.

      Whatever they needed was still missing.

      For the first and last time in his life, Beck had failed to make a delivery.

      His final thought was that a plastic bag had swallowed his head and his struggle against the forces holding him was in vain.

      Everything went black.

      His corpse was wrapped in a plastic sheet and hefted into the construction site. It was concealed under a layer of gravel at the base of a footing that would be filled with fifty cubic yards of concrete the next day.

      4

      New York City

      The next morning the Griffins went down to the lobby for breakfast.

      The dining area was crammed but Sarah spotted a table for them. Jeff and Cole moved with the crowd along the breakfast bar, loading their trays with sausages, eggs, cereal, fruit, toast, juice and coffee.

      Jeff saw Sarah at the table with her phone, reading, then responding to a text message.

      Who is she talking to?

      It consumed him as they ate and discussed options for the day but he’d have to deal with it later. Cole was wearing a New York Jets T-shirt and ball cap they had bought the night before, along with his new souvenir New York key ring bearing his name. He’d clipped it on the belt loop of his jeans. After flipping through his guidebook, Cole decided he wanted to take a tour bus down to Ground Zero, then a ferry to the Statue of Liberty.

      “But can we go to Times Square first?” he asked. “There’s a giant screen there that takes your picture and a toy store with a Ferris wheel inside. Can we go there?”

      Jeff consulted his map of New York.

      “Are you up for the walk?”

      “You bet! And every time I see the Empire State Building I’m taking more pictures. Can I go back for another juice, Mom?”

      “Sure.”

      When they were alone, Jeff nodded to Sarah’s phone.

      “So who were you talking to?”

      “Valerie, back home. She was asking if we got in okay.”

      “Valerie. Anybody else?”

      “Jeff, please don’t do this.”

      “Who, Sarah?”

      Her face reddened; she was on the verge of losing it with him. Instead, she seized her phone, cued the message, then thrust it at him.

      “Valerie. See? Valerie.”

      “Sorry.”

      Sarah put a hand to her mouth, blinking back tears. She looked toward the food bar to see Cole waiting his turn to fill his glass at the juice dispenser. She looked at Jeff.

      “On our way in from the airport I saw this billboard and—” She halted, shifted her thought. “I don’t want a divorce and I don’t think this is the time or place to tell Cole that you want one. We can’t break his heart, Jeff. We have to hang on and work this out.”

      He noticed she was twisting her wedding ring.

      “I never blamed you for what happened,” she said. “I was out of my mind, we both were. I was angry but I never blamed you for what happened. Get this through your head. I love you. We have to fight to hold this family together, not tear what’s left of it apart, please.” Upon seeing Cole returning, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Why in God’s name can’t you see that?”

      Jeff looked at her without speaking, his mind racing with a million thoughts before Cole returned, sensing unease.

      “Are you okay, Mom?”

      She touched a tissue to her eyes.

      “Just a sad memory, sweetie.”

      “All right.” Jeff cleared his throat and stood with his tray to clear the table. “Let’s get going.”

      They walked east to Seventh Avenue, then Broadway bound for Times Square. The city pulsated under a clear sky with the thud of a passing helicopter, the ever-present wail of sirens and traffic, telling him that he had to come to a decision. It weighed on him as they moved north along Broadway. Here, amid the whirlwind, he considered Sarah’s words.

      We have to fight to hold this family together. We have to hang on and work this out. Was she right?

      “Dad? Are you going to get in the picture with Mom now?”

      Cole’s question pulled Jeff from his thoughts and he took an immediate assessment, estimating that they were somewhere around Forty-fourth and Forty-fifth Streets near Seventh Avenue. The streets were crowded,