Someone Must Die (28 page)

C
HAPTER
55

There was dried blood on his neck. Aubrey dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and cleaned it off as her father slept on the raised hospital bed. The blood turned the washcloth a brownish red and left a metallic smell that overpowered the sweet scent of wildflowers in the basket the Simmers had brought when they’d come by the day before.

Prudence had hugged Aubrey so tightly it took her breath away. Aubrey had saved her grandson. She had become the family hero, a designation she had never sought.

But at least everyone was safe now.

She watched her father’s eyelids twitch, as though he were dreaming. Had he loved Star? She was certain he had no idea what his girlfriend had been planning all these years.

He opened his eyes, as though startled by something.

“I’m here, Daddy.”

“Yes, Princess,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He looked so helpless connected to machines, a turban bandage on his head. His blue eyes, completely rimmed in red, were defeated-looking.

“You know, Daddy, we’ve all been so relieved to get Ethan back that no one’s thought about how Star’s death affects you.”

He winced as though in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Would you rather not talk about it?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Did you love her?”

He seemed to be battling with something.

“It’s hard to turn love on and off,” she said.

“Even when you realize the one you love is a murderer?” His eyes seemed to be pleading with her. But why? Because he wanted to be forgiven for still loving a monster?

She took his hand, avoiding the tubes in his arm and heart-monitoring contraption on his finger. “It’s all right if you love her,” she said.

He squeezed his eyes closed. “Not her,” he whispered. “Me. Would you still love me, Princess?”

“I love you no matter what, Daddy.”

He kept his eyes closed, but tears leaked out and ran down his face.

She dried them with her fingertips, then kissed his bruised forehead. “I’ll let you rest.”

She took the bloodied washcloth with her and rinsed it out in the bathroom sink. But the metallic smell stayed with her.

C
HAPTER
56

The memorial service for Jonathan Woodward was held on Sunday, five days after his death, at a small bay-front park not far from where Aubrey had grown up. Her mother had made the arrangements quietly, without informing the news media, and kept it to a small group of family and friends.

Aubrey held her mother’s elbow, careful not to touch her bandaged hands, as they walked from the wooded area across the grass to three rows of white folding chairs that faced the bay. Many of the seats were already occupied by people Aubrey didn’t recognize, probably colleagues of Jonathan’s.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” her mother said. “Really.”

But Aubrey didn’t release her grip on her mother’s arm. Mama might insist she was no longer having dizzy spells, and that the ringing in her ears was mostly gone, but Aubrey worried the emotional impact of today’s service might set her back.

She helped her mother into a chair in the front row next to a judge, a colleague and friend of Jonathan’s who had agreed to officiate. She thanked the judge for coming, then nodded at Kevin and the Simmers, who had taken seats in the third row. Kevin had driven down from Palm Beach with Prudence and Ernest. Kim had stayed behind with Ethan at the Simmers’ house, not willing to entrust him to a babysitter’s care. Aubrey certainly understood Kim’s feelings.

The judge got up to speak about Jonathan. He had a low, soft voice that blended with the breeze coming off the bay. It was late afternoon, and the air was beginning to cool, like the night Aubrey had come here with her mother.

That was Monday. Six days ago. A lifetime ago.

Aubrey watched a sailboat tacking across the gray-blue water, coming toward shore.

A week ago, Ethan had been kidnapped. Since then, she had experienced more pain and fear than she’d had over her entire life. She’d been in an emotional vortex, anxious about Ethan, at times doubting her parents, and finally, terrified for all of their lives. Jonathan had been killed, Dad had almost died, and the trauma of almost losing her mother and Ethan in the time-share explosion haunted her daily. During the last couple of days, she would find herself suddenly shaking uncontrollably in the middle of some mundane task, her brain’s way of reminding her it was far from healed.

The judge had sat down, and others got up to speak. A law clerk, who talked about how Jonathan had helped him through a tough personal time and gave him a fresh start. Other judges and lawyers, who spoke about Jonathan’s inherent goodness and devotion to the law. Jonathan was not afraid of making tough decisions if they were the right decisions, someone said, even the ones that pained him personally.

Aubrey sensed her mother shift in her seat. “Are you okay?” Aubrey asked softly.

Her mother nodded. “I need to speak.”

Aubrey helped her up, but her mother pulled out of her grasp and went to the podium alone. In her loose black dress, white bandaged hands in front of her, dark hair blowing in the breeze, Mama reminded Aubrey of a frail nun.

Mama looked over the heads of the assembled mourners, back at the trees, or perhaps at something only she was able to see. “Jonathan was one of the kindest, most loving people I’ve ever known. His death is a loss to humanity and utter heartbreak for me.” She put one bandaged hand to her neck. “But there comes a time when we must say good-bye to our loves and to our dreams. A time when we must say good-bye to the past.”

Her mother was finally leaving her demons behind, but she had lost a great deal in the process, including the man she had loved.

Life, Aubrey was learning, was filled with painful choices, and love didn’t always prevail. She hoped her mother would at least find peace now.

No one spoke after Mama sat down. The judge thanked everyone on Mama’s behalf for coming, then the mourners gathered around her.

Aubrey took a few steps back and waited under the shade of a big old banyan tree, ready to jump in and catch her mother if she appeared faint. She watched as people offered their condolences, awkward in their embraces because of her bandaged hands. Through it all, Mama nodded, her eyes unfocused, as though she were somewhere else.

Kevin said something in Mama’s ear. She nodded and gave him a sad smile. He kissed her cheek and then came toward Aubrey.

“Hey,” he said. He was still pale, but his eyes were no longer bloodshot. “This sucks for mom.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It does.”

“I never understood her before this happened.” He glanced back at their mother, who was talking to the Simmers.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought her coldness had to do with me. With something I had done to displease her. I didn’t get that she was so angry at herself that she had a tough time showing love.”

A ray of sunlight pushed between the leaves of the banyan tree. Aubrey had finally gotten it, too. All the years of trying to understand who she was, but it had taken the trauma of almost losing Ethan for Aubrey to finally appreciate her family’s dynamics. Kevin had reacted to Mama’s aloofness by pulling away, while Aubrey had become Mama’s protector, sensing a wounded person who needed her support.

“Have you forgiven her?” she asked.

He nodded. “Now I’m trying to forgive myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been living a lie,” he said. “I was angry with everyone around me, when it was me I was pissed off at.” He met her eyes. They were the same dark-chocolate color as her own. “I’m sorry if I turned my own feelings of inadequacy against you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll always be my big brother.”

“I know that, but I’m still working on fixing myself.” He gave her a crooked grin. “I told Kim I’m quitting my job at BBM.”

“What? You are?” This was a surprise. “What did Kim say?”

“To do what’ll make me happy.”

“Well, good. I’m glad she’s being supportive.”

Prudence and Ernest were each giving Mama a hug. It seemed Kim’s parents no longer blamed her for Ethan’s kidnapping. Well, they were bigger people than Aubrey had always assumed.

“Do you know what you want to do?” she asked.

“Not really.” Kevin frowned. “I need to be happy with myself so I can be there for my family.” He gave her a little smile. “And you’re my family, too, kid. I’ll never forget that again.”

Her throat closed, making her unable to speak, unable to tell him how much his words meant to her.

Kevin glanced over at the Simmers, who were walking across the grass toward their limo. “Time to go.” He hugged her but didn’t release his grip. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were wet. “Thanks again for saving my little guy,” he said, then hurried after his in-laws.

A breeze unsettled the tree, and a few leaves floated down. Kevin was back. She had her brother back.

She sensed someone standing near her and turned. Tom Smolleck. She hadn’t expected to see him, but here he was, looking unflappable, once again, in his dark suit and white shirt.

“Nice service,” he said.

“I didn’t realize you were here. Thank you for coming.”

“I wanted to say good-bye.” He rubbed his eyebrow. “When are you heading up to Rhode Island?”

“In a couple of days. I have to get back to my classes, but I want to be sure everyone is okay before I leave.”

“I heard your dad will be in rehab for a while.”

“That’s right,” she said. “He’s going to have to work very hard if he wants to walk again.”

“Sounds like it’s in his hands.”

“Yes. I suppose it is.” The sails on the sailboat were coming down. She wondered whether the boat was going to moor at Scotty’s where she and Smolleck had had lunch. It wasn’t far from here.

She wondered whether she would ever see him again.

“A few days ago you talked about living in a glass bubble,” she said.

He nodded.

“The thing about bubbles is they inevitably burst,” she said.

There was a sadness in his gray eyes. “I’m sorry about all you’ve been through,” he said. “But sometimes leaving your sheltered world behind can free you to do other things.”

She couldn’t help but smile. There was an optimist hiding inside that dark suit.

He took her hand and held it. “If there’s anything I can ever do for you, you’ll call me, right?”

The heat of his hand warmed hers. “Yes,” she said. “I will.”

He met her eyes and hesitated. Either one of them could have leaned in a tiny bit, but the moment passed.

He released her hand. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

She watched him leave the park, shoulders stiff, head up. The perfect clothes, the rigid, formal way he moved and talked—it was his way of coping with impossible, heart-breaking situations. It was his armor.

And she realized, with her glass bubble gone, so was her own armor. No protective glass.

Just herself.

The thought was terrifying.

C
HAPTER
57

She was choking, smoke stinging her nose and eyes. She had to find Ethan. She had to save Mama.

Aubrey woke with a start, her heart pounding. She blinked as the blurs around her came into focus. Grayish-blue wallpaper. White bedspread. Pillow crushed in her arms.

It had been a dream. Just another dream.

She sniffed the air. Smoke.

That was no dream.

She jumped out of bed and hurried into the hallway. The smell of something burning was stronger here. Like the time she and Kevin had made a fire in their parents’ fireplace. The smoky smell had lingered in the upstairs bedrooms and hallway for weeks.

The door to her mother’s bedroom was ajar. Aubrey went inside. The bed was made—all the throw pillows in place—but Mama wasn’t there.

A thin haze floated around her, glowing in the morning light that spilled in from behind the curtains. Had her mother built a fire?

Aubrey knelt down on the cold stone slab in front of the fireplace. A couple of embers smoldered, and thin pieces of charred paper drifted like bats in the draft. She pushed through the ashes with the poker.

Several fragments of yellowed paper.

As recently as ten days ago, just before her epiphany about Jackson, she would have put the poker down and returned to her room. But she no longer ran from asking questions.

She picked out a few small pieces of paper caught beneath a leg of the andiron and examined one. On it was a line drawing of some kind. An architect’s blueprint? She examined another fragment. Part of a printed word—LIBR. The Spanish word
libre
, meaning free?

Then she realized what she held in her hand—remnants of the blueprint for Columbia’s library. The blueprint her mother had told her about. On another small piece were scorched words.

Several hundred students . . .

Written with a black pen in a strong, confident hand.

It was just like the handwriting on the notecard she had found in Mama’s memento box.

Her father’s handwriting.

Aubrey was falling. She leaned back against one of the armchairs.

Would you still love me, Princess? Even when you realize the one you love is a murderer?

Now she understood why he had asked that.

And Mama knew, too.

C
HAPTER
58

Her mother sat in a chair at the patio table, shaded by the gumbo limbos, palms, and bamboo trees. Maybe it was the harsh morning light, or perhaps the recent lack of rain, but the plants seemed to droop around her.

She was staring off absently, unaware of Aubrey’s presence, her bandaged hands upturned as though in supplication.

Aubrey pulled out the chair beside her. The loud scraping sound jarred Mama back. Her eyes flitted over the oversize T-shirt Aubrey had slept in, then paused on her fingertips, which were blackened by soot.

“Why did you burn the blueprint?” Aubrey was surprised by the strength in her voice, because it was nothing like the terrible weakness inside her.

Mama bit her lower lip and looked down at her bandaged hands.

That’s when it hit her.

Her mother had
wanted
her to smell the smoke and find the few charred scraps of blueprint.

“Have you had it hidden away?” Aubrey asked. “Tell me. Why did you burn it now, after all these years?”

She continued to stare at her hands. “A nurse gave it to me at the hospital. It was with your father’s things when the ambulance brought him in.”

Had that been the paper her father had found when she’d called him about the babysitter? If so, had he taken it from the time-share, planning to destroy it, knowing it was the one remaining physical link to what he had planned to do?

“It was Dad’s idea to blow up Columbia’s library and kill innocent people, wasn’t it?”

Her mother’s face seemed to harden into stone. She was protecting him, the way she had always done.

“Can’t you for once tell me the truth? For God’s sake, Mama. My whole life you and Dad have tried to keep me in the dark. And I’ve let you. I’ve been afraid if I pressed you for answers, I would somehow rip whatever it was that held you and Dad together.” She took a breath. Her heart was racing. “Why did I bother? You two were already broken.”

Her mother’s face was filled with agony. She extended her bandaged hands toward Aubrey.

“I’m sorry,” Aubrey said, “but I can’t do this anymore. I need to know the truth, and if you won’t tell me, maybe Dad will.” She pushed back the heavy wrought iron chair. The sound scraped painfully against her heart as she went toward the house.

Behind her, she could hear her mother’s voice, barely a whisper. “I love you, sweetheart,” she said. “Remember that, no matter what.”