Blackberry Winter: A Novel (29 page)

“Yes, dear,” she said. “If you feel you can bring the truth to light, keep them. My father would be glad to know they’re in good hands.”

We walked out to the stairway, and I looked over my shoulder, feeling the urge to run, to leave the home as quickly as my feet could carry me, but I kept my pace slow and steady.

When we made our way back outside, where the birds chirped and the sun shone down on my face, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Can I drive you back, honey?” Lillian asked, walking to the car.

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” I said, opening the passenger door of the Volvo. I turned to look at the house a final time, eyeing the upper bedrooms cautiously.
Are we being watched?
Silly, I told myself. As Lillian pulled the car out of the driveway, I clasped the briefcase tighter in my arms, knowing I was in possession of something very important. It was up to me to find out why.

Just as I sat down at my desk back at the office, my phone rang. I picked it up, annoyed. I didn’t want to do anything but immerse myself in the contents of the briefcase.

“Claire?” Ethan’s voice sounded far away. A world away. “Honey.”

My heart softened, but I remained silent.

“I tried you at home. I didn’t think I’d find you in the office on a Sunday. I miss you.”

He got my voice message.
“I’m working on a story. I miss you too,” I said, caving, willing away the jealousy, the anger that had taken up residence in my heart. I wanted to ask him what he was doing in Portland, and whether Cassandra was part of the equation, but I bit my tongue.

“I spent all day yesterday interviewing candidates for the Journalists’ Guild Scholarship,” he said. “It was grueling.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling relieved. “I thought you were—”

“I’m coming home on the train tonight. I’d love it if we could have dinner.”

My eyes brightened. “You would?”

“Yes,” he continued. “That is, if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Seven o’clock, the Pink Door?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up the phone and redirected my attention to the briefcase. Lillian’s father had carried it with him every day of his working life, no doubt. It felt a little like looking inside an old doctor’s bag. You couldn’t pull out the stethoscope without thinking of the physician who had held it up to hearts hundreds of times over. Yes, I could feel Lillian’s father’s presence. Secrets waited inside this case, and I think he wanted me to find them.

V
ERA

L
on slept till noon. I watched the clock tick above his head, praying he’d wake soon so he could make the calls he’d promised to make on Daniel’s behalf. People listened to Lon. He was a powerful man.

I sat up straight in my chair as he opened his eyes. He held his hand out to me, gesturing for me to come toward him. The hand that had ravaged me last night. I felt my stomach turn.

“Come here, dollface,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Come lay down beside me.”

“Lon,” I said as sweetly as I could, “you promised that you’d help me find my son. I’ve been very patient.”

“Sure, beautiful,” he said, yawning. “But I don’t get out of bed without breakfast, and”—he winked at me—“a woman.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said firmly, “you promised.”

Lon sat up. His eyes switched from playful to angry. “Who do you think you are, giving me orders like that?”

My hands began to shake. “I, I—”

“Do you think for a moment that I care about your damn son?”
he said, laughing sinisterly. “For God’s sake, how can you even think he’s still alive? It’s been days.” He reached for the half-empty bottle of champagne on the bedside table and took a swig.

I felt as if I had stepped out of my body and was watching the scene unfold in the suite as an outsider. Lon’s lips moved, laughing, mocking me. I sat there, frozen, frightened, for the first time feeling complete and utter hopelessness.

Lon stepped out of bed. I averted my eyes from his naked body. “Now, if you know what’s best for you, dollface,” he said, taking a step toward me, “you’ll give up on this nonsense about finding your son and come to bed with me.”
My God. I have to get out of here.

I eyed the door. If I was quick, I could run. I could get there before he got to me. He wouldn’t chase me down the hallway without clothes on. I could escape.

“Dollface,” he said again, fingering the trim of my dress.

I pulled away from him, and the force tore the fabric. A flap hung down at my side, revealing my corset underneath. “Don’t you call me dollface!” I screamed, running toward the door.

I felt his anger behind me, burning hot like a dry oak log in the fireplace, stoked and crackling.
I have to get out of here.
I tripped on the rug and lost my shoe. With no time to retrieve it, I reached for the doorknob and flung the door open, running into the hallway with such speed, I surprised myself.

“Don’t walk out on me, you whore!” he shouted. “Come back here right now!”

His voice echoed in the hallway.
Is he chasing me?
I didn’t turn around to look.
Keep running.
I knew the hotel well, every crevice, every mouse hole. Just ahead was a maid’s closet.
He’ll never look for me there.
I opened the little door near the Rainier Suite and stuffed myself inside. Lon’s voice had quieted. There was just silence and
the sound of my heart pounding in my chest. A bead of sweat fell from my forehead and trickled down my cheek. Then I heard footsteps outside. I held my breath. A moment later, the doorknob turned. I clutched a mop. If he came near me, I’d strike him.

The door opened with a squeak. There, peering inside, stood Gwen. “My God,” she said with a gasp. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Vera.”

Never in my life had I been so grateful to see the face of a friend. Once I started to cry, I couldn’t stop.

“Oh, honey, let’s get you out of here,” she whispered.

Gwen unlocked the Rainier Suite just ahead, and we hurried inside. “Vera,” she said, surveying my torn dress, much fancier than the ones I used to wear, and tear-stained cheeks, “what happened to you?”

“I made a terrible mistake coming here,” I said, “with him.”

“You mean Lon?”

I bit my lip. “You know?”

She nodded, handing me a freshly pressed white handkerchief from a silver tray by the bed. “You know how the maids talk.”

I blew my nose. “I can’t imagine what you must think of me, Gwen.”

“I think you’re a good mother, that’s what,” she said before pursing her lips. “And I think the hotel ought to throw that monster out for treating women the way he does.”

I took a deep breath. “He promised to help me find Daniel. And I believed him.”

“The man’s a rat,” she said. “After what he did to Susie, sending her away like that when she was to have his child. Just despicable.”

I nodded. “I knew better. My mind was clouded by the hope of finding Daniel.”

“Oh, honey, do not blame yourself. Not for a single minute. You did what you had to.”

I sighed in defeat. “But I failed.”

Gwen shook her head. “I won’t let you talk that way. You did what you had to do,” she repeated emphatically.

I sat down on the big, fluffy bed, laying my head against the headboard. “Look at me,” I said, “dirtying this room, creating more work for you.”

“You certainly are not,” she countered. “Besides, the room’s vacant tonight. And Estella’s off today. So stay as long as you want. I’ll have Bruce bring you a tray of food. You’re skin and bones.”

I looked down at my arms, pale, bony, with a fresh bruise developing on my right wrist. “Only if it’s not too much trouble,” I said. “I don’t want to burden anyone.”

“You don’t worry about a thing,” she said. “Now, rest. You’re safe. He can’t find you here. Pretend you’re a hotel guest for a moment. Maybe take a nap. I would if I were you, honey.”

I eyed the bed, so luxurious and warm. I hadn’t slept a wink last night, not with that monster slumbering beside me. “Thank you, Gwen,” I said, setting my heavy head down on the pillow. I let my eyelids close.
Just a few minutes. Then I’ll go. Then I’ll leave this place and find my son.
When I closed my eyes I saw, as I always did, my Daniel.

It was half-past eight when I opened my eyes. How had I slept so long? I sat up quickly, smoothing my dress. In my haste to leave Lon’s room, I hadn’t brought a sweater. I walked to the mirror on the wall and took a long look at myself, ashamed by the image of the scantily dressed woman before me. I didn’t have time to fret. I
surveyed the sky outside the windows. Dark clouds had rolled in.
I have to get out of here.

I stepped outside into the hallway, cautiously, quietly, aware of every creak the floor made as I stepped. I kept my eyes out for Lon at every turn.
Is he still looking for me?
When I reached the elevator, I pressed the button and prayed it would come quickly. I heard heavy footsteps down the hall and my heart began to race, but moments later, an older couple walked past. The man tipped his hat at me, and I gave him a relieved nod. Still, when the elevator doors opened, I leapt inside, holding my breath until the doors closed again.
Safe, for the moment.
The elevator deposited me in the lobby. I kept my head down to remain as inconspicuous as possible, but I looked up when I saw a man I recognized. Our eyes met for a brief moment. I couldn’t place him at first, so out of context. Then I realized who he was. Mr. Ivanoff, the mason. He held an iron crowbar and appeared to be working on a fireplace in the lobby. He nodded at me, but I didn’t stop, especially after I’d heard what he’d done to his wife. As kind as he’d been to my Daniel, a man who could lay hands on his wife wasn’t a man I wanted to associate with. I looked straight ahead.

Just as I pushed through the double doors that led to the street, I heard a man calling from a distance. “Wait!”

I glanced back inside the lobby to see Lon’s assistant running toward the door, waving his hands. “Come back here, Miss Ray!” he shouted. “You can’t just run off like this. Mr. Edwards spent a fortune on your wardrobe.”

I ignored him and continued outside. My heart pounded as I ran down the street. I kept running, finally ducking into an alley four blocks away. I slid behind a stack of lumber, gasping for breath. A rat with a crooked tail scurried by in the shadows.
My God, where
can I go next? Back to Caroline’s? No, I couldn’t do that to her. Then where?
It was getting dark; I couldn’t stay on the streets, where I’d be prey for the men in the saloons. I buried my head in my hands.
Charles.
At first I brushed off the thought. Too many years had passed. I was probably just a distant memory to him now.
He doesn’t know about Daniel, so how would he feel knowing that I’d kept him from him all this time?

I shook my head.
Charles loved me once. He wouldn’t turn me away now. But would he recognize me, this woman I’ve become?
I looked down at my hands, chapped and red from hours spent elbow-deep in wash buckets at the hotel, a stark contrast from the bright-eyed young woman he’d known four years ago. But perhaps he would see beyond that.