Someone Must Die (13 page)

Diana’s eyes flew open. Her heart was pounding. There was something in the memory she’d forgotten, but it wasn’t about Gertrude. It was Jeff. Jeffrey Schwartz. She hadn’t thought about him in twenty years, so why now? She tried to slow her breathing. Jeff had had a thing for Gertrude—Diana had always known that. But what she’d forgotten was that Jeff had been a law student at Columbia. At the same time as Jonathan.

It couldn’t mean anything, could it? Then why couldn’t she shake this feeling that Jeff was just beyond the door, watching her. Laughing at her.

C
HAPTER
22

The Coconut Grove Ritz was on a slight bluff overlooking the bay, a ten-minute walk from Aubrey’s house, but it had taken her six. She had hurried in order to see Kevin and check on what was happening at the Simmers’ command post, but she was also eager to get back home to her computer to continue digging into her mother’s past. She hoped to find something on those two women in the photo, or anything that might relate to the brownstone explosion.

She stepped into a hushed, sumptuous lobby filled with earth-tone marble and grand columns, where a number of reporters were milling about. She followed the desk clerk’s directions to one of the meeting rooms off the lobby. A man in a dark suit stood at the door with an iPad. He checked for her name on his tablet, then asked for ID before allowing her into the room. She wondered whether the police had been so careful the day before when someone slipped the greeting card in with the mail.

The large room buzzed with voices. Aubrey took in the different stations of the Simmers’ command post. Two women in T-shirts that said “National Center for Missing & Exploited Children” sat at a table near the front of the room. They were both wearing headphones and typing on their laptops, probably fielding calls from the hotline. At a nearby table, Detective Gonzalez was talking to another police officer.

A half-dozen men and women in suits had commandeered several tables in the back and were busy at their computers or on their phones.

They looked like FBI but were probably the private investigators the Simmers had hired.

Kevin, Kim, and the Simmers weren’t in the room.

Aubrey approached Detective Gonzalez. She looked more haggard than the day before, her black hair greasy and pulled back from her pale face.

“Do you have a minute?” Aubrey asked.

“Sure.” Gonzalez led Aubrey to a corner where they had some privacy.

“I was wondering about your reaction to the Coles’ attack on my mother. Could they have Ethan, and are hoping to misdirect the police?”

“We considered that possibility. I went to see them last night after the interview.”

“And?”

Gonzalez shook her head. “They admitted they had no basis for accusing your mother. They saw an opportunity to publicly hurt her, and they took it.”

“Yes, of course. But it shows their motive to kidnap Ethan.”

“We’ve already confirmed their alibis regarding their whereabouts when Ethan was taken. We’ve also had them under surveillance since the kidnapping. At this point, it’s unlikely they’re involved.”

“So you’re dropping them as suspects?”

“We’re not dropping anyone.” Her voice was a bit impatient, and Aubrey wondered whether she’d crossed a line by suggesting the police weren’t doing their job. “And I’m sure the Simmers will let us know if we missed anything,” Gonzalez added.

“What do you mean?” Aubrey asked.

“Their investigators are all over the Coles, despite their alibis.”

“They are?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

Aubrey glanced across the room at the Simmers’ investigators. They looked purposeful as they conversed with each other and pointed at their computer screens. “I would have expected the Simmers to find a reason to blame my mother, not her enemies.”

Gonzalez frowned, her thick eyebrows almost merging. Aubrey wondered whether the detective was able to read her thoughts. That the Simmers were leading the charge against the Coles, because they were hoping to deflect suspicion from themselves. But the possibility that the Simmers were behind Ethan’s kidnapping continued to baffle her, especially after seeing their genuine grief during the press conference.

“Whatever agenda the Simmers have,” Gonzalez said, “they’d better keep their people from interfering with the police investigation.” The detective seemed to stiffen. Aubrey followed her gaze. Prudence and Ernest had come in and were heading toward the back of the room. No Kevin or Kim.

The Simmers looked as tired and wilted as they had on TV the day before. Nothing like people who had kidnapped their own grandchild, but rather like devastated grandparents. Aubrey had seen them a handful of times since Kevin and Kim’s wedding, usually at one of Ethan’s birthday celebrations. Prudence had always been cool toward Aubrey, though never quite rude.

Rudeness was unbecoming to a Baer.

Ernest stopped to talk to one of the dark-suited men while Prudence took a seat at a long table and pulled a laptop from her tote bag.

“Excuse me,” Aubrey said to the detective. “I need to speak with them.”

She approached the Simmers, standing back a few feet so as not to appear to be eavesdropping. The man Ernest was talking to had his hand on his hip, revealing an ID of some sort. The familiar logo of BBM caught her by surprise. She’d thought these people were with a private security firm.

It occurred to her that the reward money and investigation wasn’t being financed by the Simmers’ personal funds, as she had assumed, but by Baer Business Machines. That was odd. Unless the Simmers believed the kidnappers were targeting BBM for some reason. She thought about the documentary she’d watched the night before and wondered whether there could be a connection between BBM and the brownstone explosion.

She stepped up to the Simmers’ table, hoping she’d be more effective getting information from Prudence than she had been with Smolleck.

Prudence frowned, as though trying to place her.

“Hello, Mrs. Simmer.” She had never been able to call her by her first name.

“Audrey,” Prudence said, accepting her hand. “How awful that we have to see each other again under such circumstances.”

“Yes, it is awful,” Aubrey said, deciding not to correct her name.

Prudence clung to Aubrey. The woman’s hand felt bony and cold. The red polish on her nails was partially chewed away.

“I wanted to tell you how much my mother and I appreciate your providing the reward money and private investigators.”

Prudence got a faraway look. An amoeba-shaped splotch of coffee stained her beige-silk blouse. “We’d give far more if we believed it would help us get Ethan back, but thank you.”

“It’s great that you have the resources of Baer Business Machines at your disposal.”

Prudence pulled her hand away from Aubrey’s. “We’re using all our resources to find Ethan.” Her voice was clipped.

“Yes, of course.” This was clearly not the best way to get information from Prudence. She needed to try something else. “Have your investigators found anything suspicious on the Coles?”

“Not yet,” Prudence said.

“The police say they have an alibi.”

“Alibis are easy to manufacture, dear.” Something across the room caught Prudence’s attention. “This is unacceptable,” she mumbled.

Aubrey turned to see her brother staggering across the room. His white-cotton shirt was wrinkled and untucked from his slacks. Kevin stopped and rubbed an unshaven cheek, seemingly mystified by the people busy trying to find his son.

Her heart ached for him. Her big brother. A memory surfaced. Kevin holding on to her pink bicycle as he ran alongside her, then how he shouted with delight when he let go and she pedaled down the street by herself. She’d been six. The same age Ethan was now.

She started toward him, then hesitated. Given the stress he was under, he might make a public display and take all this out on her—his grief, his ineffectualness, his anger toward their mother. So let him, she decided, and continued walking. Let him use her as his whipping post if that was what he needed. His child was missing.

“Hey, Kev.”

He blinked, as though trying to figure out what she was doing there. “Oh. Hey.”

It was not even ten, but she could smell alcohol on his breath. She wasn’t going to judge him if that was what he needed to cope with his son’s disappearance.

He glanced toward his disapproving mother-in-law.

“Do you want to go outside?” Aubrey asked.

“Sure.”

She led him to a terraced area near the pool, where they sat on a couple of square wicker chairs beneath a palm tree. A gardener was trimming the hedges and plants, but there were no hotel guests around.

“Is Kim back in your room?” she asked.

“Yeah. Prudence has her doped up on something. Doctor’s orders, or so she says.” He reached into his pants pocket and took out a miniature bottle of scotch he’d probably gotten out of the minibar. He opened it, then gave her a dare-you look. “Got a problem with this?”

She shook her head and he took a swig.

“I called and texted you a few times,” she said.

He shrugged. “One of Prudence and Ernie’s people has our phones. They’re handling stuff. Works for me.” He took another drink.

It didn’t work for Aubrey. She wished her brother were stronger and could take charge of himself and Kim. “Where’s Bilbo Baggins?” she asked softly.

“I’m no Bilbo Baggins. Never was.”

She took his hand. If he couldn’t be strong, at least she wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.

The gardener clipped off several stray vines of fuchsia bougainvillea, and they dropped to the keystone tiles. One strand fell into the pool and floated on the blue-green water.

“Remember the time you almost drowned?” Kevin asked, pulling his hand away from hers.

“I almost drowned?”

He nodded. “We were at a birthday party for that kid who lived down the street. Matt. Dad took us because Mom was working. It was a pool party with a clown. I guess Dad figured it would be okay to leave us. Maybe he thought the clown was a lifeguard.”

“I don’t remember any of this.”

“You were five, I guess. I remember I was in third grade. We both knew how to swim. There was a slide going into the pool. I went down headfirst. Got a mouthful of water.” He took another slug from the bottle. “Maybe I was embarrassed. I don’t know. You were watching me cough, so I dared you to do it.”

She tried to bring up the memory, but it wasn’t there.

“You went up the slide and lay down headfirst, like I’d done. Except you had one of those plastic swimming rings around your waist.”

“What happened?”

“You slid down and landed upside down in the water, feet kicking up in the air. I realized you were stuck, that you couldn’t right yourself. The swimming ring was too tight for you to slip out of, and it was keeping your head under.”

Something was coming back to her. A sensation of being beneath the water, but she didn’t remember being scared.

“What did you do?” she asked.

He took another drink and stared at the pool. “I watched your feet kicking. I remember thinking what little feet you had.” He rubbed his cheek. His eyes were completely bloodshot.

“Did you jump in after me?”

“I should have, right? I was eight years old. I was a good swimmer. I could have saved you with no problem.”

“But you didn’t.”

He studied the small scotch bottle. “Nope.”

She felt sad for him, not angry. “Do you know why you didn’t?”

“It was like I was paralyzed,” he said. “I kept watching your little feet kick in the air, until somehow you righted yourself.”

“Did Mom and Dad ever find out?”

“Someone told them. I remember Mom yelling at Dad for leaving us unsupervised at the party. I’d never seen her so angry.” He thought for a moment. “That’s when it started with Mom.”

“What started?”

“I wasn’t her little prince after that.”

He rolled the bottle between his fingers. Above his gold watch, his wrist was knobby and red, just like when he was a teenager.

“Mama’s always loved you,” she said.

“Nope.” Kevin took another swig. “She blamed me for everything that went wrong and has been punishing me ever since.”

“But Kev—”

“No. Listen to me. Remember that big fight Mom and Dad had when we were kids? The one that seemed to last forever?”

“You mean when Jimmy Ryce went missing?”

He cocked his head, as though confused. “The kid who was kidnapped, then found dead?” His face sagged.

She never should have mentioned Jimmy Ryce. It would only make Kevin more fearful of what might happen to Ethan.

Kevin let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. It was right around that time. I was eleven when the War of the Lynds got going.”

War of the Lynds.
Aubrey had always thought of those weeks as the nightmarish time between “before” and “after.”

“The war was my fault,” Kevin said. “They were fighting because of me.”

“They were upset about Jimmy Ryce, Kev. Worried that something like that might happen to you and me.” At least, that was how she had classified that memory in her mind.

“No.” He gave his head an emphatic shake. “It was my fault. They hated my friend Jeff. They said he was a bad influence, but I disobeyed them and kept hanging out with him.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I heard them arguing,” Kevin said. “I remember Mom saying, ‘Jeff’s going to be the end of us.’ But Dad was on my side. He told her to stop concerning herself about Jeff.”

He stared into the pool. The bougainvillea branch had sunk to the bottom. “But Mom was right. Jeff was the end of them,” Kevin said. “After that fight, they started hating each other.” He put the empty bottle to his lips, then shook it with frustration when nothing came out. “Mom never forgave me,” he said, his body starting to shake. “I screwed up their marriage. I screwed up our family.”

“That’s not so, Kev.”

“You don’t know, Aubrey.” His voice was like a shard of glass. “She blamed me for almost letting you drown and for that big fight with Dad. My whole life, she’s been punishing me. First, she misses my graduation, then my wedding. And now . . .” His voice broke. “Now she loses my son.”

She opened her mouth to defend their mother, then closed it. Kevin was hurting, and arguing with him wasn’t going to help. She gently took the bottle out of his clenched hand, then put her arms around him and held his trembling body close. “We’re going to find him, Kev. Ethan will be home soon, happy and safe.”

He jerked his head back. His eyes were filled with pain. “Do you promise?”

Her heart clenched. Who was she to promise such a thing?

“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”