And those excuses became a burden he would carry for the rest of his life.
The night Emma was attacked, Lucy had been promised ice cream.
It was a Thursday in late May, and the air outside Mercy Ridge smelled of rain on hot pavement. Emma had stayed later than planned because the hospital's compliance officer wanted one more set of documents before meeting with representatives of the charitable fund the following morning.
Lucy waited in a small family room with a coloring book and a paper crane she'd folded from a yellow sheet of construction paper. A hospital volunteer had stayed with her during the final part of Emma's meeting, and by the time her mother returned, the little girl was tired and hungry.
“Mama, you said we'd go.”
Emma knelt beside her.
“I know, little sparrow. I'm sorry.”
Lucy crossed her arms.
“You always say five minutes.”
Emma gave a weary laugh.
“And I always mean five minutes.”
“But it's never five.”
“No,” Emma admitted. “It usually isn't.”
Lucy tried to remain angry, but her mother's exhausted smile made that difficult.
Emma held out her hand.
“How about we stop for ice cream on the way home?”
Lucy looked suspicious.
“Chocolate?”
“Chocolate.”
“With the little cookie pieces?”
Emma smiled.
“If they're not sold out.”
Lucy took her hand.
“Okay.”
They left the building shortly after seven.
Emma carried a leather folder containing copies of the disputed invoices and a small notebook where she'd recorded the questions she wanted the charitable fund's representatives to answer. Her original work files remained in the hospital's secured system; she'd taken only the copies she was authorized to retain for the next day's meeting.
The parking garage was quieter than usual.
Rainwater dripped from the concrete entrance.
A fluorescent light buzzed above the elevator.
Emma walked beside Lucy toward their silver sedan, trying to remember whether they'd left an umbrella in the back seat.
Halfway across the garage, a man stepped out from behind a concrete support.
He wore jeans, heavy boots, and a black jacket.
Emma stopped.
The man moved closer.
“Mrs. Bennett.”
She tightened her grip on Lucy's hand.
“Can I help you?”
He looked toward the folder.
“I think you've got some papers that don't belong outside the office.”
Emma's expression changed.
She recognized his voice.
“Mr. Voss?”
The man didn't answer immediately.
Then he stepped into the light.
Raymond Voss.