She's Not There (35 page)

“And you took care of the other half, didn't you?”

Another silence. Another collective intake of breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Keeping her stoned, staying by her bedside every minute. I always thought it was so strange, your sudden turnaround when Becky came back to town. You were so miserable to each other when you were married. You didn't speak after your divorce. When I think of the vile things you said about her…And then she gets a brain tumor, comes back to San Diego, and checks into Peggy's hospice. And calls
you,
of all people. Do you want to know why I think she did that?”

“By all means,” Steve said. “Enlighten me.”

“I think she was going to come clean about what happened and she wanted to give you fair warning. She told me she owed you that.”

“Why would I need fair warning?”

“Because you were there with Becky. Because taking my daughter was your idea.”

“Oh, my God,” Peggy whispered into the stunned silence that followed.

“Now you're accusing
me
?” Steve jumped to his feet. “You know what? I've had enough of this crap…”

“Sit down,” Greg Fisher told him in no uncertain terms.

“This is absurd,” Mary sputtered.

“You knew,” Caroline said, spinning toward her.

“What? I knew no such thing.”

“Michelle told you what she saw.”

“A five-year-old child told me what she
dreamt,
” Mary insisted with such vehemence Caroline almost believed her. “She was confused. She was hysterical. There was no way your brother had anything to do with what happened that night. I didn't believe it then. I certainly don't believe it now.”

“It was Uncle Steve, Grandma. I saw him.”

“You imagined it.”

“No.”

“This is preposterous. Why would he do such a thing?”

“My guess?” Caroline asked. “He needed money. Isn't that what these things usually come down to? He's a gambler. Becky had lost her job. He was strapped for cash.”

“You're crazy,” Steve said. “The real estate market was booming in those days. I was making a fortune in commissions.”

“And losing it just as fast. What happened, Steve? You bet on the wrong horse? You owe the wrong people money? They threaten you? You offer them something in trade? Ultimately convinced Becky to go along with you or risk being the target of a mob hit?”

“A mob hit?” Steve laughed. “I think you've been watching way too much TV.”

“I think you'd been planning this for quite a while, that you bided your time, waiting for the right opportunity.”

“And I think you're forgetting a little something,” Steve said, turning around in hapless circles, as if appealing to everyone's better judgment. “I was with you guys when Samantha was taken.”

“No,” Caroline said, shaking her head. “You weren't.”

“Yes, he
was
,” Rain said. “We were all together. Except for Becky. She'd gone to her room with a headache.”

“And then
you
left to check on the kids,” Peggy said to Caroline.

“And when I came back, you were gone,” Caroline said to her brother.

“I went back to our room to try to convince Becky to rejoin the party. All of you…you know that. It wasn't my idea to go back, but you were giving me such grief about it…”

“Yes, we played right into your hands, didn't we? Except you didn't go back to your room because you knew Becky wasn't there. She was waiting for you in the lobby, or wherever it was you'd arranged to meet. All you had to do was wait for me to check on the kids and leave.”

“Your timeline is all wrong,” Steve insisted. “You're forgetting I was with you when Hunter came back from checking the kids at nine-thirty.”

“Except he didn't check on them,” Caroline said.

“That's right,” Jerrod concurred. “He was too busy screwing my wife.”

“Do we have to keep harping on that?” Rain asked.

“You saw Hunter in the hallway,” Caroline reminded her brother. “You told me so yourself. You realized then he hadn't checked on the kids.”

“Which proves only that Hunter was a liar, not that I'm a kidnapper.”

“Which proves you had both the time and the opportunity to kidnap Samantha.”

“So you're saying that Becky and I stole Samantha from her crib and then…what? What exactly did we do with her?”

“You put her in some kind of carrying case,” Michelle said. “A man was holding it. He'd been standing in the doorway. I couldn't see his face. He closed the bag and walked away.”

“You're out of your mind.”

“Everything worked exactly according to plan. Even better, actually,” Caroline continued. “You thought you had half an hour to steal Samantha and spirit her out of the country. Turned out you had twice that.”

“How would I know for sure you'd leave the kids alone?”

“You didn't. But you knew Hunter. You knew he'd arranged a special surprise for that night because, once again, that surprise was your idea. You knew he'd probably be able to persuade me.”

“That's a whole lot of probability. Again, where's your proof?”

“Come to your Uncle Stevie
,
”
Michelle said in a tiny voice.

“What?”

“That's what you said when Aunt Becky lifted Samantha out of her crib and handed her over to you. You said, ‘Come to your Uncle Stevie.' The same thing you said to her yesterday. That's when it all came back to me. That's when I knew for sure it was you.”

The room fell silent.

Steve's eyes shot to Greg Fisher. “This is wild speculation. Surely you don't believe this garbage. They have nothing—”

“They have an eyewitness,” Fisher said, smiling at Michelle. “She sounded pretty credible to me.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, pressed a series of numbers, and spoke softly into it. “There are agents waiting outside,” he told Steve, taking his elbow and leading him to the door. “You might want to contact an attorney.”

“You're not actually going to arrest him,” Mary protested, following them outside.

The rest of them remained rooted to the spot, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

“What just happened?” Jerrod asked as the front door slammed shut.

Caroline sank to the floor beside the Christmas tree. Her eyes darted from Hunter to Peggy and Fletcher, to Jerrod and Rain, their shocked faces reflecting their attempt to make sense of everything they'd just heard. Michelle and Samantha sat down on either side of her, holding tight to her hands.

“Did I tell you that Jerrod got us tickets for
Dance with the Devil
?” she heard Rain ask, her voice reaching across fifteen years, transporting Caroline back through time.

Caroline closed her eyes and watched that night unfold behind her eyelids, as if it were a movie she'd seen before. Only this time she was playing all the parts.

“D
id I tell you that Jerrod got us tickets for
Dance with the Devil
?”

“What's that?” Caroline snuck a glance in the direction of her suite and then at her watch. She pushed away what was left of her lobster dinner, which was most of it. She was too nervous to eat. It was almost time to check on the kids.

“They were fine when I checked on them thirty minutes ago,” Hunter whispered. “They're fine now. Finish your meal.”

“
Dance with the Devil
? It's only the hottest show on Broadway. It's impossible to get tickets, especially on Thanksgiving weekend. But Superman here managed to do it.” Rain threw a proprietary arm across her husband's shoulders, sneaking a smile in Hunter's direction.

“So you'll be spending Thanksgiving in New York,” Becky said. “Lucky you.”

Rain smiled. “What are you guys up to?”

“My mother always has Thanksgiving dinner at her place,” Steve said, providing Becky with the perfect opening, and wondering if she'd take it. She'd been vacillating all day, threatening not to go through with their plan.

“You can just imagine how much I'm looking forward to that,” Becky said, following Steve's lead. She knew what was at stake, that the men her husband was dealing with weren't the type to look kindly on a sudden change of heart. One man was already here in Rosarito, having flown in by private plane earlier in the day, and was at this very minute waiting patiently in the lobby with the special carrying case he'd brought in which to hide Samantha.

You don't piss these people off,
Steve had warned her.

Still, she wasn't sure she could go through with it. No matter how hard she tried to rationalize what they were about to do, no matter how many times she told herself she had no choice, that Steve's reckless gambling had put both their lives in jeopardy, no matter how many times she told herself that Caroline would survive the loss of her child—she still had one healthy little girl; she could always get pregnant again; Samantha was going to a loving home; Caroline's perfect, fairy-tale existence could use a cold shower of reality—she didn't know whether she was capable of inflicting such pain on a woman with whom she'd once been close.

Still, what choice did she have?

Steve glared at his wife, silently urging her to keep it simple. It was important that they start slow and build. Their spat had to sound like just another one of their endless arguments. Which should be easy. It seemed that all they did anymore was fight. “Let's not start.”

“Stop looking at your watch,” Hunter told Caroline. He checked his own watch, feeling a stirring in his groin at the thought of his upcoming tryst with Rain. It was accompanied almost immediately by an unwelcome stab of guilt. Not at the affair itself. He'd been having casual, meaningless flings for years. This one was no different except for the added frisson that it was taking place right under his wife's nose. But this was his anniversary, for heaven's sake. Surely he owed it to Caroline not to betray her tonight, of all nights. Still, she'd thought little of almost canceling the dinner and had spent most of the evening worrying about the kids. They were her first priority, not him.

“You know what my darling mother-in-law said to me last Thanksgiving?” Becky asked, warming to the charade. At least she got to vent. “She'd just been to a funeral and I made the mistake of asking how it had gone, and she said, and this is a direct quote: ‘It was a lovely affair. Her daughter selected a beautiful coffin. Much nicer than the one you had for
your
mother.' ”

Steve bristled, despite the charade. Did she really have to bring that up again? “I assure you,” he protested, “she said no such thing.”

“That's exactly what she said.”

“You're exaggerating. As usual.”

“And you're defending her. As usual.”

“So, what are we all thankful for?” Peggy interrupted, trying to keep their argument from mushrooming out of control. It was her best friend's anniversary. Could Steve and Becky not manage even one evening without a fight? “Come on. Three things, not including health, family, or friends. We'll just assume you're thankful for those.”

“Never assume,” said Becky.
Oh, God. Can I really go through with this?

“Oh, this is fun.” Rain clapped her hands. “Can I start?”

Peggy indicated the floor was hers, suddenly grateful for Rain's presence. A normally positive person who made a concerted effort to find something admirable in everyone, Peggy had been struggling all week with her feelings for Rain, feelings that veered from mild amusement to strained impatience to active dislike. The truth was that she just didn't trust her. There was something sneaky about her, the way her compliments always carried the sting of a slap. “Kidding on the square,” her mother used to call it. Still, it was nice to know you could count on Rain for something. In this case, that something was glomming onto anything that provided her with the opportunity to talk about herself.

“Well, first, obviously, I'm thankful we'll be spending Thanksgiving in New York and not at some horrid family function, no offense intended. Second, I'm thankful for the new necklace Jerrod bought me. And third, I'm thankful gray hair doesn't run in my family. Your turn.” She smiled at Caroline.

“I'm thankful for this past week,” Caroline said. “I'm thankful to be celebrating ten years of relative wedded bliss.”

“What do you mean,
relative
?” Hunter asked. What kind of a dig was that?

“I'll drink to
relative,
” Jerrod said, raising his glass in a toast, and thinking it would be a miracle if he and Rain made it to their tenth anniversary. He suspected she was already getting restless. Hence, Thanksgiving in New York. Hence, the expensive diamond sparkler around her neck.

“Go on,” Peggy said. “One more thing you're thankful for.”

“I'm thankful for the ocean.”

“Seriously?” Rain asked.

My sentiments exactly,
Steve thought.
The ocean? That's exactly the sort of sappy thing Dad would have come up with. And what a loser he was.
“I'm thankful the San Diego real estate market is so strong.”
Not fucking strong enough, mind you. Never strong enough.
“I'm thankful I was able to persuade Hunter to let us join you here in beautiful Rosarito to help you celebrate.”
I can't wait to get the hell out of here.
“I'm especially thankful that my mother is such a great cook.” He narrowed his eyes across the table at Becky.
The ball's in your court,
his eyes said.

“You're so full of shit,” Becky said obligingly.

“Is our mother not a great cook?”

“Our mother is indeed a great cook,” Caroline said. “And you are also full of shit.”

Everybody laughed.

And you are so fucking smug,
Steve thought.
Let's see how smug you are later on tonight.

Becky noted the anger that flashed through Steve's hazel eyes, like a sudden bolt of lightning. He'd always been scornful of his older sister, minimizing her accomplishments and belittling her comfortable lifestyle, but it was only lately that Becky had come to realize his enmity went far deeper than that.

He'd always been their mother's favorite, told his entire life that he was the special one, that all he had to do was smile that killer smile and the world was his for the taking. Except it hadn't quite worked out that way. His charm had carried him only so far before people started expecting more. They wanted a glimpse behind the killer smile and were inevitably disappointed to find there wasn't much there. He'd failed at everything he tried, probably because he never tried very hard. In fact, in his most recent incarnation as a real estate agent, when times were so good that all you had to do was show up in order to collect a six-figure commission, he couldn't be bothered doing even that. Soon sellers took their business to other agents; buyers went elsewhere. Commissions dwindled. What little money he made, he gambled away. His mother had always been there to bail him out, but even she couldn't help him this time. They were in debt up to their eyeballs. They owed money to everyone, people who would gladly wipe that killer smile right off his face.

And here was Caroline, his beautiful, boring sister, a high school math teacher, for God's sake, quietly going about her business, and she seemed to have all the answers. How the hell had that happened?

Becky rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache. She'd had a lot of them lately. Probably the stress of a bad marriage combined with the more recent stress of what she was about to do. Could she really follow through with their plan? Could she really be part of something so horribly evil?

“Your turn, Becky,” Rain said.

“I'm sorry, everyone. I've had this terrible headache all afternoon, and it seems to be getting worse.” Tears filled Becky's eyes, and she made no move to hide them or brush them aside. She rose to her feet. “If you'll excuse me,” she said, pushing back her chair and getting to her feet.

“Oh, sit down,” Steve said. “You're fine. Don't be such a prima donna.”

“Fuck you.” Becky turned and stomped away.

Well played, Becky,
Steve thought, watching her leave. He needn't have worried. Maybe they weren't so ill matched after all.

By the time she reached the lobby, Becky's eyes were dry. She stationed herself behind a large floral arrangement that afforded her a sweeping view of the area. Now all she had to do was wait.

“Shouldn't you go after her?” Fletcher asked Steve.

“What—you think I'm as crazy as she is?”

“I should go check on the kids,” Caroline said.

Hunter stood to kiss her cheek. “Hurry back.”

“Oh. So sweet,” Rain said.
Gag me with a spoon,
she thought.

Caroline was more than happy to get away. Her anniversary celebration was proving something less than celebratory. Rain was getting on her nerves and Hunter seemed distracted. Plus she was worried not only about the girls but about her brother and Becky as well. That they thought nothing of fighting in public was obviously not a good sign. She doubted their marriage would survive the year.

She proceeded to the elevators, unaware that Becky was watching from behind one of several huge arrangements of colorful fresh flowers. She got off the elevator at the sixth floor and hurried down the hall, hearing her children's imaginary cries leaking through the walls. But when she opened the door to her suite, she heard only the reassuring hum of silence. A quick check proved the girls were sleeping soundly in their beds.
Hunter was right,
she thought.
I've been silly to worry.

“You really think I should go after her?” Steve asked soon after his sister had left. He couldn't afford to leave the table too early. Nor could he afford to wait too long. The timing was critical if they were going to pull this off.

“I'd go, if I were you,” Fletcher said.

“Remind her we're supposed to be celebrating,” Peggy added.

“Just say you're sorry and get it over with,” Jerrod advised. “Remember—happy wife, happy life.”

“Fine.” Steve pushed back his chair and stood up. “I'm doing this for you guys.” He walked into the lobby, nodding first toward Becky, then toward a balding man in casual attire who was sitting unobtrusively in a large wicker chair. The man was perusing a brochure, a large carry-on bag at his feet.

What the hell is taking Caroline so long?
Becky wondered as time dragged on and Caroline still hadn't returned. All she had to do was check on the girls and leave. Unless one of the girls had awakened, and then all bets were off. What would they do then?

What the hell is she doing up there?
Steve was also thinking, pretending to use the house phone while keeping an eye on the bank of elevators nearby. He could feel the balding man's eyes burning a bullet-sized hole in the back of his beige linen shirt. If she took too long, Hunter was liable to get anxious and go up there himself. And then where would that leave them?