Stolen in the Night (21 page)

Tess stared at his grave face and felt her heart flip over like an acrobat on a trapeze.
She was not exactly sure of the implications, but she understood the central point.
“Related to him?”

Ben nodded. “I was with Nelson when the report came in. It wasn’t until I explained
the science to him that the light dawned. I could see it in his eyes. Something suddenly
made sense to him that had never made sense to him before. I tried to get him to tell
me, but he absolutely refused. But he’d realized the truth. And I think it got him
killed,” said Ben.

Tess was shivering as she considered what he had just told her. Then she had another
thought. “Nelson had no children,” Tess said, looking into Ben’s intelligent crystalline
eyes.

Ben glanced at the front door of the inn, which was still tightly shut. Then he looked
back into Tess’s eyes. “He has a nephew,” Ben said.

T
ess’s heart lurched in her chest. “Chief Bosworth?” she whispered.

“Rusty Bosworth is the son of Nelson’s sister.”

“He’s the chief of police,” said Tess.

Ben gazed at her somberly. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you out here, where we
wouldn’t be overheard,” he said.

Tess clutched the sleeve of his jacket as if to steady herself. “Are you saying you
think he could have done these things…?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, Tess. What I do know is that we can’t go to the local police with our
suspicions.”

“Who can we go to?”

Ben frowned. “Well, the state police or the FBI. I have to tread carefully, though.
We need proof. Not conjecture.”

Tess shook her head as if she could not take it in. “Are there any other siblings.
Cousins?”

“Well, we need to find out before we start accusing the police chief,” said Ben.

Tess looked at him with keen, troubled eyes. “I don’t get it. Why are you helping
me now? Why did you come here and tell me this?” she asked.

Tess saw the blush which moved up his neck to his cheeks.

“Because it’s you,” he said. “It’s your son.” He turned and looked her directly in
the eyes. “Because it seems like you are all I think about these days.”

Tess looked at him in amazement. Before she could form a reply, a white truck came
rumbling down the gravel driveway and pulled up in front of the inn. Jake jumped out
of the driver’s seat. He opened the van doors, pulled out a long stick, and came walking
toward Tess and Ben.

“Hey, Tess,” Jake said with a forced heartiness. “Are you speaking to me yet? Tell
Erny I’m here. I brought back his fishing pole.” Jake looked fondly, and with a certain
pride, at the pole he was holding. “He did a good job. Clever little guy. Look how
he made it. He used a garden stake, a piece of twine. He even put a lure on it,” said
Jake, plinking his thumb and forefinger against the piece of metal tied to the end
of the line.

Tess stood up and stared at her brother. All her anger at him melted away at the sight
of his familiar face. “Jake, where have you been? You don’t know what happened?” she
asked.

Jake stood the pole up carefully against the lattice behind the bench and looked at
Tess warily. “No. After I picked up the fishing pole I had to drive to North Conway
for supplies. Why? What happened?”

Ben stood up also and put a protective hand on Tess’s shoulder. “Erny has…disappeared,”
he said. “We think he was abducted by Nelson Abbott’s killer.”

“What?” Jake yelped. “Killer…? Wait a minute. Nelson was killed? Who did it? How did
they get ahold of Erny?”

Tess saw the genuine bewilderment in her brother’s eyes. She needed to back up and
explain. “This morning, we took a canoe ride to the beach at the campground. Erny
and me. Someone had dumped Nelson’s body there. He was getting ready to bury it, we
think. Anyway, Erny went into the woods, looking for twigs…and he must have seen…”
Tess dissolved into tears. She shook her head, unable to continue.

“Jesus, Tess…” Jake rushed to his sister, wrapping his arms around her. Tess huddled
against her brother’s broad familiar shoulder. She felt his empathy, his support,
as he enfolded her. He only wanted to comfort her. Not, she thought ruefully, to berate
her for letting Erny out of her sight, the way she had berated him for the same sin
only a day earlier. It would never have occurred to him to do that, she realized,
as a sob escaped from her throat.

Before Tess could regain her composure and tell him she was sorry, there was the sound
of a siren’s wail and the roar of a car engine. A black-and-white police car, its
roof light flashing, rounded the curve of the driveway and sped into the circle in
front of the inn. It squealed to a stop behind Jake’s truck, spraying gravel to the
sides of its wheels. Another siren could already be heard coming toward them down
the driveway. The front door of the inn opened and the plainclothes officers who had
been in the hallway came outside, with Dawn following hard on their heels.

Two officers jumped from the first car, guns drawn and approaching cautiously.

“Jake DeGraff?” said the first uniformed officer who had emerged from the car.

Jake let go of Tess and looked at the police, perplexed. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m Jake
DeGraff.”

A second police car roared up beside the first and stopped short. Two more policemen
got out and waited by their car.

“What the hell?” said Jake.

“Your truck was spotted on the road into town heading in this direction. Do you have
the boy?” the second cop from the squad car asked.

“What boy?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Your nephew. Erny.”

“Of course I don’t have him. I just found out he’s been kidnapped!”

“We have orders to bring you in for questioning, sir, in the murder of Nelson Abbott,”
said the first uniformed officer.

“I didn’t kill that son of a bitch,” Jake protested.

Chuck Virgilio, the plainclothes cop with the mustache, said, “You’ll have to go with
them, Mr. DeGraff.”

Jake looked at Tess. “Tess, tell them. I didn’t even know Abbott was dead…”

Tess appealed to Officer Virgilio. “My brother couldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t
have taken Erny. It’s Erny you should be looking for. Every minute that goes by, my
son’s life is in danger.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” said the uniformed cop from the patrol car. “We have orders to pick
your brother up. He threatened the murder victim within earshot of a lot of people.
So we are going to bring him in. Are you going to come with us voluntarily, Mr. DeGraff,
or do I have to arrest you?”

Dawn, who had been standing quietly by, watching with huge haunted eyes, suddenly
approached the officer with raised fists and began to shout. “Stop this! Now! Leave
my son alone. Why are you people persecuting us?”

The officer turned on her. “You’d better calm down or you’ll find yourself down at
the station, too.”

“Watch how you talk to my mother,” Jake warned him.

“No, Jake. Don’t. I’m all right,” said Dawn.

Ben took a step toward Jake and spoke in a low quick voice. “Jake, go with the police,”
said Ben. “Don’t make trouble. I’ll come with you.”

“Who are you?” Jake demanded.

“Ben Ramsey. I’m an attorney.”

The light of recognition dawned in Jake’s eyes. “Ramsey. You’re the one who was working
for…who got Lazarus…” Jake sputtered. “You were the one who was defending Nelson.”

Tess grabbed her brother’s arm and spoke quickly into his angry suspicious face. “Let
him help you, Jake.”

“What are you talking about, Tess? This is the enemy.”

“No, Jake, listen. He knows…what we’re up against.” Tess exchanged a serious glance
with Ben. “Someone…could be looking for a scapegoat. Don’t let them use my brother,
okay?”

Ben nodded, unsmiling, understanding exactly what she meant. “Nothing will get by
me,” he said. “I promise you.”

“Mr. DeGraff,” said one of the uniformed cops. “You can go peacefully or we’ll put
these cuffs on you. Your call.”

“Jake, we’ll go down there with them and I’m sure in no time we can straighten this
out,” said Ben. “There has to be someone who remembers seeing you in North Conway.
Or a surveillance camera tape. Don’t worry. We’ll corroborate your alibi.”

“Alibi? Why do I need an alibi?”

“Mr. DeGraff,” the cop snapped.

“Jake,” said Tess. “Let Ben help you. He’s the best at what he does. Who knows that
better than us?”

“All right. All right,” said Jake irritably. “But this is just crap.”

“I’d come, too, but…Erny,” said Tess. “Someone might call.”

“I’m going with him,” Dawn insisted. “I’m going with my son.”

“No. Mom, stay with Tess,” said Jake. “I’ll be okay. I didn’t do anything wrong. Call
Julie. She’s at work. Tell her about this. Go on, Mom. You call her. I’ll be fine.”

As the uniformed officers led Jake to the squad car, Officer Virgilio opened the door
of the inn for Dawn. Dawn marched past him without acknowledging his gesture.

“Tess,” said Ben. “I’ll be back with your brother as soon as I can. You sit tight.
Don’t worry. We’re going to get Erny back.”

Tess nodded numbly and watched as the uniformed officers accompanied Jake and nudged
him into the backseat of the patrol car. Ben quickly ducked into his car and fired
up the engine.

Tess watched them leave the driveway in a caravan, headed for the police station.
Standing alone in the driveway, she began to shiver uncontrollably. She felt as if
she were coming apart inside, fracturing into a thousand pieces. No, she told herself.
NO. Keep it together. If Ben’s theory was right, the police could be working against
her, covering up for their chief. One thing was for sure. She could not wait around
here, hoping the police would rescue her son. Even if they weren’t in collusion with
the chief, the last person they would ever treat as a suspect was Chief Bosworth.
You have to do it, she thought. You have to do something.

Tess’s heart was thudding and her insides were ajitter. Get a grip, she thought. This
isn’t helping. She wanted to just collapse in a heap on the gravel driveway and hide
her head in her arms. Stop it, she thought. Concentrate. She forced herself to think
about the DNA results and Rusty Bosworth. Could the police chief have hidden her son
somewhere? If he did, she thought, trying to find a shred of hope, maybe that gave
her a little time. At least Erny might be safe for the moment. The chief would be
in the public eye all day because of this high-profile murder of Nelson Abbott. If
she could find his house, maybe she would find her son there. Tess fumbled in her
jacket pocket and found her cell phone. She dialed information and asked for Chief
Bosworth’s number. “It’s on…Maple Road,” she said, fabricating an address, hoping
the operator would supply the correct address.

While Tess waited for the operator to respond, her thoughts raced. Could Rusty Bosworth
have been the long-ago accomplice of Lazarus Abbott? They were cousins, close in age.
Summers, they worked together, helping Nelson. In a way, it made sense.

The operator came back on the line. “I’m sorry, that number is unlisted.”

“Unlisted? No. It’s very important…”

The operator clicked off, leaving Tess staring at her phone. Don’t panic, she told
herself. Someone will know. Julie, she thought. Quickly she punched Jake’s number
on her directory. In a moment, she heard Julie’s voice sounding frantic.

“What is going on, Tess? I’m talking to your mother on the other line. Dawn said that
Jake has been arrested! For taking Erny? That’s insane. How could they possibly think
that Jake would do that? To his own nephew?”

Tess couldn’t take the time to speculate. “Jake will be all right. He has an attorney
with him. Listen, I need your help.”

“I’ve got to get to the police station, Tess.”

“Julie, listen to me. I need you to help me. Where does Chief Bosworth live?”

“Rusty Bosworth? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Julie, you know everybody in this town. Where does he live?”

“I don’t know. He and Charmaine had a house but they separated and he moved out. I
don’t know where he lives now. Look in the phone book.”

“I tried information. He’s unlisted.”

“Tess, what is this all about?”

“Julie, can you help me or not?” Tess demanded.

“I don’t know,” said Julie. “Ask Charmaine. She has a place on Main Street. A massage
place. She’ll know.”

Immediately Tess realized why the unusual name sounded familiar. She remembered Jake
pointing out the massage parlor to her and making a joke about Rusty Bosworth’s wife.
“Right,” said Tess. “They’re divorced. Right?”

“Separated,” said Julie. “I have to go, Tess.”

“Okay. Thanks, Julie.” Charmaine would know where her estranged husband lived, Tess
thought. She would also know if Rusty had any other blood relations who might fit
the DNA profile. “What’s her place called?”

“Stressless,” said Julie. “It’s called Stressless.”

A
flutelike bell tinkled as Tess opened the door to Stressless.

Water burbled and circulated over shiny stones in a round fountain in the window and
the walls of the small space, painted a soothing celadon green, were decorated with
framed Zen koans, photos of dew-laden blossoms on a branch against an out-of-focus
background, and Japanese drawings of cranes, snowcapped mountains, and high-rising
ocean waves with red Japanese characters running down the sides of each picture. A
CD of tuneless music plunked on a stringed instrument played softly in the background.
A square woven basket full of pamphlets about yoga classes, AIDS, and women’s health
issues sat on the blond wood counter, which was obviously the reception desk, though
it was unmanned at the moment. A light fixture and a fan hung from a stained, dropped
ceiling, marring the otherwise clean and soothing effect of the space.

There were no customers seated in the ergonomically correct chairs arrayed around
a tatami mat in the waiting area, but Tess could see shadows moving behind a wood-framed
standing paper screen at the back of the room. “Hello?” Tess called out.

A trim woman with finely lined skin, Western features, and a skinned-back, dyed blonde
bun anchored by a chopstick came out from behind the screen and bowed. Then she smiled
benignly at Tess. She was barefoot and wearing a kimono-style jacket and cropped black
pants. “Take a seat, why don’t you, and just breathe for a while. I’ll be with you
shortly.”

Before Tess could reply, she slipped back behind the screen. “Excuse me,” Tess called
out. “Are you Charmaine Bosworth?”

“Yes,” the woman’s voice trilled, at once pleasant and reproving.

Tess could tell that she was clearly disturbing the vibe. “I’m sorry, but I need to
talk to you right now.”

The woman folded back one panel of the screen. Tess could see that there was someone
lying facedown on the table, wrapped in a bathsheet-size towel. At first glance, Tess
thought it was an adolescent boy whose bruised limbs were flaccid, lacking in muscle
tone. Then Tess realized that it had to be a female. A boy would only be wrapped to
the waist.

“I am unable to help you right now,” said Charmaine firmly.

“It’s very important,” said Tess. “I wouldn’t interrupt otherwise.”

“This is a treatment session,” said Charmaine, raising her eyebrows and indicating,
with an inclination of her head, the wheelchair that was folded against the wall.
“Surely it can wait.”

“It’s all right, Charmaine,” said a small raspy voice from the direction of the massage
table. “I’m fine for a few minutes.” The client turned her head to face Charmaine
and Tess recognized the tiny woman on the table. It was Sally Morris, the publisher’s
wife. For one minute Tess felt fearful that maybe Sally would recognize her or her
voice, but she reassured herself that it was unlikely. They had only met briefly at
the airport and even though Sally had turned her head on the table, Tess was completely
out of her line of sight.

Tess winced at the sight of the woman’s wasted body with its assortment of bruises,
some fresh and some faded to yellow. Probably from the kind of fall she had taken
at the airport. Tess felt a pang of sympathy for the woman’s pitiable condition. A
desire to speak a kind word to the woman on the table crossed her mind, but Tess instantly
dismissed the impulse. It was critical to her plan that she not be recognized. She
was relieved when Charmaine Bosworth sighed and adjusted the screen so that Sally
was no longer in view. “What is the problem?” she asked.

On the way over, Tess had imagined the possible scenarios of this visit. Already she
realized with relief that she was over the most daunting hurdle. Charmaine’s cool
gaze betrayed no sign that she recognized this intruder. Tess’s avoidance of interviews
and photographers had proved valuable. Charmaine had no idea that it was Tess DeGraff
she was talking to, despite all the media coverage. Besides, Tess thought, Charmaine
probably avoided the news to maintain her calm aura. This made Tess’s mission that
much easier. She knew that asking this woman for the home address of her estranged
husband would arouse suspicion. And certainly, there was no normal way to inquire
about Rusty Bosworth’s blood relations. Tess had thought it over carefully and figured
out a way to proceed. Now she put her plan into action. She began with an effusive
apology.

Charmaine seemed somewhat appeased. “That’s all right. How can I help you?”

“You are Mrs. Russell Bosworth?”

“Well. Technically,” said Charmaine.

“My name is…Terkel. June Terkel. I work for a brokerage house in Boston. We are trying
to locate Russell Bosworth.”

“What for?” Charmaine asked.

“He, and any siblings or cousins he may have had, have been bequeathed a brokerage
account at my firm from a distant relation who never actually knew the family.”

“A brokerage account? You mean like stocks and bonds?” Charmaine asked.

“Exactly. We tried to reach him but found that he was no longer at your address.”

“We’re separated,” said Charmaine. “But Rusty’s the chief of police. You can find
him at the police station most likely.”

“Yes, I know that he is. I’ve left several messages with his sergeant, but your husband
has failed to return my calls.”

“He’s been really busy,” said Charmaine.

“I’m afraid he might be ignoring my calls because he thinks I’m trying to contact
him about investing money or some such thing. That’s why I decided to seek you out.
I would prefer to speak to him away from his place of employment. This is really a
matter I need to discuss with him privately. Also, I need his address for purposes
of correspondence.”

Charmaine hesitated. “He doesn’t like people knowing where he lives.”

“Well, I can understand that,” said Tess evenly, though her heart was thudding. This
was the critical hurdle. “If you prefer, maybe you could contact him for me and tell
him about our conversation.”

Charmaine seemed to give the matter some thought. “No. I’d rather he thought I didn’t
know about it. Is it a lot of money?”

Tess suppressed a sigh of relief. It was going to work. She could see the calculations
going on behind Charmaine’s eyes. She and Rusty Bosworth were not yet divorced. Community
property had not yet been legally divided. Charmaine wanted to give her estranged
husband enough rope to hang himself. When, in listing his assets, he failed to mention
having this account, she would be able to catch him in a deception in front of the
lawyers or the court. Obviously Charmaine was trying to achieve a higher spiritual
plane, but when it came to Rusty, she could be as ruthless as any injured spouse.

“It’s a considerable sum,” said Tess. “Of course, it may have to be divided among
a number of people.”

“Oh no,” said Charmaine. “Rusty has no other family. He had one cousin but he’s…deceased.”

“I see. So Mr. Bosworth would be the sole heir.”

“Yes,” Charmaine said eagerly.

Tess fumbled for a notepad and pen in her purse, trying to conceal both the hope and
the distress that this news caused her. No siblings. No cousins. It had to be Rusty
Bosworth who had colluded with Lazarus. And it also had to be the police chief who
had abducted her son. Tess tried to calm herself, so that her hands wouldn’t shake
as she wrote in the notepad. “All right,” said Tess, “if you could just give me that
address.”

“He’s renting a condo out by the Stone Hill Mountain ski area. Two-fifty-three B Millwood.”

“And his home phone?” Tess asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she wrote.

“He doesn’t want me to have it,” said Charmaine.

“Really,” Tess murmured.

“I know. Do you wonder why we’re separated?”

“Charmaine,” Sally called out softly from behind the screen.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” said Sally. “I just need to turn over.”

“I’ll help you. Just a sec.”

“I won’t keep you any longer,” said Tess. “Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t bother going over to his place right now,” Charmaine advised. “He’s got a big
case going on. He won’t be home till all hours.”

“That’s fine,” Tess said. “Thanks again.” She forced herself to smile and make a serene
exit, despite the fact that she wanted to take off at a run. The tinkling sounded
behind her as Tess closed the door and Charmaine returned to Sally Morris. Now, Tess
thought, she had all the information she needed. As she started up Main Street, a
shiny black Mercedes pulled into the handicapped parking space in front of Charmaine’s
storefront. Chan Morris got out, arriving to pick up his wife from her therapy. His
soft, black hair was instantly disheveled by the wind and he pushed it back off his
face.

Tess averted her gaze and pulled up the collar on her jacket, hurrying up the street
toward Kelli’s car before Chan saw her. She knew that if he saw her, he would greet
her and probably want to start asking questions. She couldn’t afford to have her identity
revealed to Charmaine, who might glance out the front window and see them talking
together. She didn’t want Charmaine asking Chan how he knew June Terkel. No, Tess
thought. That was not going to happen. She had the information and now she needed
to get to her son. Hang on, Erny, she thought. I’m on my way.