Beyond Midnight (63 page)

"
You
'
re right!
"
Helen snatched the note back.
Mom,
it said; not
ma.
"
He wouldn
'
t do that unless he were feeling—
"

"
Already homesick,
"
said Becky with a sleepy smile.

Despair,
Helen thought, then shoved the idea away.
"
Homesick,
"
she agreed, almost fiercely.
"
Yes. Already.
"

"
And look at that tiny x next to his name,
"
Becky added, her natural optimism shining through her weariness.
"
You know how Russell feels about words of love. He only uses them in code.
"

Helen was ashamed to admit that she thought the
"
x
"
was an allusion to Generation X—the lost generation, as some of the kids liked to tag themselves.
"
You
'
re right
...
she said again, but this time she was even less sure.
"
It doesn
'
t matter. We
'
ve got to find him, Becky!
"

Helen sprinted down the stairs and across the back hall to her aunt
'
s apartment and, despite the hour, banged on the door and then let herself in. Through the open door of the darkened bedroom she could see her aunt still trying to struggle into a bathrobe.

"
Aunt Mary—it
'
s me.
"
She apologized for waking her aunt up, then helped her into a fuzzy pink robe and sat her down at the ancient enamel-topped table in the kitchen. Sliding a cordless phone across the distance between them, she said carefully,
"
I
'
m expecting a call from Russ sometime today. I
'
ll be in and out, and I
'
m afraid of missing it.
"

There were mornings when Aunt Mary had trouble getting into gear mentally; but this wasn
'
t one of them.
"
It
'
s six-thirty
A.M.,
"
she said, fixing a surprised look on her niece.
"
Where is he?
"

Helen clasped her hands together in a prayerful pose, then pelted her chest sof
tly with them. Her gaze was fas
tene
d
on the July sheet of a calendar that hung on the pale yellow wall next to the door: a serene view of a country cottage, its perennial border abloom with daylilies, daisies, and black-eyed Susans. The idyllic setting was so at odds with her life that Helen closed her eyes and looked away, as if she
'
d stumbled across a mangled body.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, then came up with a tiny smile of dismay.
"
He
'
s
...
ah
...
he
'
s run away, Aunt Mary. You remember that weird scare over the Satanism? Well, it
'
s back. Someone killed a cat that belonged to a little girl that Becky baby-sits and—
"

"
Oh my lord. They think Russell did that?
"

"
No, actually it
'
s even dumber than that. They think Becky did it.
"

The elderly woman stared blankly at her niece; it was too early in the morning for such drama. Helen felt a surge of protectiveness for her aunt, sitting there puffy-eyed and shivery in the early morning sun. But she had no choice; there was no one else to cover the phone.

Fearing one of her aunt
'
s memory lapses, she asked gently,
"
Did you understand what I said?
"

"
But
...
then why did
Russell
run away?
"

"
Ah. Good point,
"
said Helen with a wan look of her own.
"
I said some things yesterday
."

Her hurtful words fell back down over her like concrete blocks, crushing her spirit.
"
And Russell took them personally.
"

She stood up, aching to be on her way, but paused and said,
"
You know the movies where the sidekick runs in front of the bad guys to draw their fire away from the people he loves? That
'
s what Russ is doing.
"

He
'
s pleading guilty to please the mob.

"
The poor thing,
"
said her aunt, drawing her robe around her more closely. She looked so terribly, terribly tired.
"
Where would he have gone? Not far?
"

"
No father than the mall, anyway,
"
said Helen lightly. She knew that to Aunt Mary, running away meant hiding out in a friend
'
s basement all day.

She was determined not to alarm her aunt any more than she had already, so she added,
"
I
'
m just afraid he
'
ll get stuck somewhere without carfare and call home. So if he does, be sure to get an address and tell him not to move, would you? And meanwhile, I
'
ll keep checking with you. We should have this all worked out by the end of the day. You know how temperamental kids can be.
"

****

Seventy-two hours later, what was left of Helen
'
s world was being methodically dismantled.

Every cop in the city, every trooper in the state was on the lookout for Russell Eve
tt
, a black-haired, green-eyed cop
'
s kid with two pierces in his ear and a great grin, if one of them was lucky enough to see it.

He wasn
'
t dead. That was the big, overwhelming thing. He
'
d called
Scotty—that
hurt—and told him to pass the word that he was okay. The call had been quick, Scott said; Russ had been afraid it would be traced. That was another blow: her son, acting like a fugitive from her.

But she cheered herself with the news that he was alive and hopefully not far from home:
Boston
was her best guess. Helen loved
Boston
; but the thought of Russell roaming its streets with nothing but the clothes on his back and a few dollars in his pocket was nothing short of terrifying. She sent Becky and a couple of her friends to search for him in the
Cambridge
area, which Russ knew pretty well, while she stayed home coordinating the search in the manner of a military campaign, with a private investigator as her aide-de-camp.

But despite the army of friends, relatives, and mercenaries that surrounded Helen, the plain truth was that she herself was under seige: The Open Door was teetering on the brink of collapse. After the cat episode, another dozen or so parents panicked and fled the summer program; classes were now down to less than half their original size. A teacher gave notice. The cook quit. The afternoon person simply didn
'
t show.

All of the rest of the staff, as well as the remaining parents, were ready and willing to rally around Helen—but she wasn
'
t there to lead her troops. How could she be, when her son had gone missing?

It came as no surprise to her when Janet called late on Wednesday morning.
"
Two reps from the Office for Children are here on an impromptu inspection. Is it possible that it
'
s coincidence?
"
she asked wryly.

Smiling bleakly, Helen said,
"
Be nice to them. We have nothing to hide.
"

"
I heard Mrs. Dunbar went straight to them after she heard about the cat.
"

"
That was bound to happen, Janet. You and I discussed it.
"

"
Well, excuse me, but I don
'
t understand what someone
'
s dead cat has to do with this establishment.
"

"
It doesn
'
t take much to bring down a preschool,
"
Helen said almost absently. Her mind was on the search.
"
Janet, when you call, call me on my aunt
'
s line, would you? I need to keep this one free.
"

"
Anything new?
"

"
Not so far.
"

Janet
'
s sigh was heavy and unanswerable. Helen knew that her assistant was ready to charge over hot coals for her and the preschool.
"
Janet? I
'
m sorry, I truly am, but I have to stay here.
"

"
Don
'
t apologize,
"
Janet said firmly.
"
I
'
d do the exact same thing. It
'
s just too bad, that
'
s all. You and your children don
'
t deserve this. First Hank, now this ridiculous hysteria. And all because of some idle gossip and a tragic
coincidence—well, it
'
s not right. It makes me wonder who
'
s running things up there.
"

Helen hurried off the phone before Janet
'
s plainspoken sympathy reduced her to weeping. It was hard to read phone books through tears.

Tears or no tears, one particular phone number kept throbbing in place on her yellow pad. It was the only one Helen hadn
'
t crossed off; the only one she could not bring herself to dial. Her hand hovered over the phone.

Leave no stone unturned,
she told herself.
Not even that one.

The phone rang shrilly as she reached for it, sending her heart cracking against her breastbone.
"
Yes?
"

"
Mom, it
'
s me. We couldn
'
t find him. I
'
m sorry. We went through every record store, every arcade, every bookstore. We saw a kid go into the Harvard Coop who looked a little like
—
but he wasn
'
t. We were thinking of maybe checking around the
Charles River
; you know, where they have those little swan boats?
"

"
No. I don
'
t want you driving aro
und
Boston
after dark. Mr. Merkl
e will
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    
take care of that part
.
You did your best, honey. Now come home. And drive safely. How was traffic going in?
"

"
No sweat. Bobby
'
s a real good driver.
"

"
I know. Thank him—thank everyone—for me.
"

Again she had to hurry off before the tears started up. Becky and her friends—and Helen was amazed to see how many were coming forward—were all trying so hard. Everyone was.

It made Nat Byrne all the more conspicuous by his absence.

Helen bit down hard and picked up the phone. He could help or he could go to hell.

Pe
aches was trying on a ruby necklace, one that had come down to Linda through the Swiss side of her family, when the phone rang. She considered not answering—she
'
d already spoken with Nat—but it was seven-thirty; anyone who mattered would know that Katie would be in bed, and her nanny at home with her.