Dry Ice (48 page)

    We had two kids, just like I'd wanted.

    My new son and I had some crucial things in common: We had both watched a parent murdered.

    We'd both had indelible days, things we'd been part of that we would go forward in life not wanting to be true. We would each need to find the strength not to be defined by what had happened to us.

    And we each had a future that was as difficult to decipher as the way out of a sandstorm.

    What it would take for us to survive was clear, at least to me. We would need to sublimate, to use strength we had no reason to trust to transform the impact of the events that were themselves so transformative. Phoenixlike, we would try to end up doing something acceptable with our lives, even beneficial, despite our traumas.

    We would sublimate.

    We would both try to change from a solid state into a vapor without first melting.

    It was tricky stuff, the not melting.

The people who help me with each book not only spare readers from all manner of my idiocy, they also refresh my faith in the generosity of the human heart.

    This time I offer my thanks to Jane Davis for a thousand things done remarkably, to Chuck Lepley for his cogent and thoughtful instruction, to Judy Pomerantz for the early read, to Nancy Hall for the late one, and to Al Silverman and Patricia Limerick for the lift. Elyse Morgan's astute eyes always capture more of my errors and inconsistencies than do anyone else's— and this time her critical perspective, along with her absolute lack of hesitation to point out my failings, proved even more crucial than usual.

    Brian Tart, together with Neil Gordon, edited this book with great care and with vision to match. I thank them for their skill, and for all they do during the year to shepherd my work from desk to marketplace. My gratitude goes out to their colleagues at Dutton and NAL, as well—especially Lisa Johnson and Claire Zion.

    Special thanks to Robert Barnett for his graciousness and guidance.

    My family provides the platform that makes what I do possible. I will never be able to thank them enough.

Stephen White is a clinical psychologist and
New York Times
bestselling author of fourteen previous suspense novels, including
Missing Persons
and
Kill Me
. He lives in Colorado.