Suspicion (11 page)

  "Because you’re an attorney. And the mother of his child. And because, according to your ex-father-in-law, you’re probably the only person on earth Eric truly trusts."

  This time, she was able to manage a small laugh. "I’m afraid Douglas is overestimating Eric’s opinion of me. The truth is, my ex-husband and I are barely civil to each other. If it wasn’t for our daughter, we wouldn’t be talking at all."

  "When did you hear from him last?" he asked_.

  "I couldn’t say exactly." Conscious of his eyes on her, she picked up a glass from the counter and put it in the dishwasher. "Weeks."

  "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

  "None whatsoever," she replied lightly.

  "Does he have any close friends? Someone who might be willing to hide him for a while?"

  "Eric has lots of friends, all as shallow as he is. I doubt any of them would take such a risk."

  He watched her hand as she closed the dishwasher. "Yet he’s managed to elude an entire police force for the past seventeen hours."

  "Believe me, Detective, no one is more surprised by that than I. I never thought of Eric as a man with strong survival instincts."

  "Desperation can be a powerful motive."

  Kate’s eyes narrowed as she measured the man across from her. He was a tough cop, and a smart one. Did he really believe Eric was guilty, or was he just fishing? "You’re barking up the wrong tree, Detective. Eric is no criminal. Except for a few traffic tickets, he’s never done anything even remotely unlawful."

  Mitch’s lips twitched in a wry smile. "Your loyalty is admirable, Mrs. Logan, but the fact remains that the evidence against him is staggering. Unless of course, you don’t consider blackmail a reason for murder."

  "That’s assuming he was being blackmailed."

  His laugh came easily. "Come on. Counselor. Gina Lamont didn’t record their little interlude out of sentimentality. And she didn’t come to Eric’s office two days later to discuss the marketing of semiconductors."

  So Abigail hadn’t wasted any time in notifying the police about Gina’s visit to Hollbrook Industries, Kate thought. "That’s circumstantial evidence, and you know it," she stated. "It will never stand up in court."

  "You sound as if you were planning to represent Eric."

  "I am representing him, Detective." She folded her arms. "Is that a problem for you?"

  "Nope." He continued to scrutinize her with unnerving intensity. "Tell me something, though. If he’s innocent as you claim, why isn’t he coming forward to defend himself instead of hiding?"

  "You would have to know Eric to understand that. He doesn’t handle problems well. Faced with a difficult choice, he’ll invariably choose the easiest option rather than the wisest. In his mind, staying in hiding while I solve his problem seems like the perfect solution."

  Although she sounded sincere enough, something about the way she had averted her eyes earlier told Mitch his hunch had been right after all. She had heard from Eric. She might even know where he was. He could have pushed her, thrown his weight around a little, but he didn’t. She was an attorney. She knew the risks of protecting a fugitive as well as he did. And besides, he wasn’t all that certain that Logan was his man.

  An angry voice ripping through the air jolted him out of his thoughts.

  "What’s he doing here?"

  He turned around to see Kate’s daughter glaring at him.

  "Alison!" Kate’s voice rang just as sharp and accusing. But Alison was in no mood to listen. Her eyes bright with fury, she stomped into the kitchen, one angry fist on her hip.

  "Haven’t you done enough harm?" she snapped at Mitch. "You already sent one innocent man to prison. Now you want to do the same to my dad?"

  "Alison, that’s enough."

  Alison’s eyes brimmed with tears as she turned to her mother. "I thought you were on Daddy’s side. I thought you were going to help him."

  "I am helping him. I’ve done nothing since this morning but try to sort through the mess he left behind."

  "And that’s how you do it?" Alison cried, emotion cracking her youthful voice. "By talking to him? By letting him in our house?"

  Devastated by the child’s anguish, Kate went to her. "Darling, Detective Calhoon is conducting an investigation. I was merely answering his questions-"

  Before Kate could finish her sentence, Alison let out a small cry of frustration and fled the room.

  It took Kate a few moments to collect herself and a few more to realize that the door Alison had just slammed was not to her bedroom, but the front door.

  Alarmed, she ran into the foyer. "Alison!" Her eyes darted toward the coat rack where Alison’s red coat always hung. It was gone. Mitch right behind her, Kate threw the door open and ran the few steps to the sidewalk. Alison was nowhere in sight. "Oh, my God."

  "She can’t be far," Mitch said in a voice that was instantly calming. "Take your car and ride around that block." He pointed toward the left. "I’ll go the other way." He squeezed her arm. "We’ll find her."

  As Kate ran back inside the house to get her car keys, a dozen terrifying thoughts bounced in her head. Where could Alison have gone? What if they didn’t find her? What if someone took her? She was only thirteen. Anything could happen to a young girl these days. Even in this neighborhood.

  By the time she reached her car, Mitch was already gone.

  Her heart pounding, Kate jumped into the Saab and drove around the familiar streets, peering through the windshield and into the night, hoping to see Alison’s red coat. She even got out of the car a few times to knock at

  her neighbors’ doors. But no one had seen Alison. Yes, they would call if they heard anything.

  Ten agonizing minutes later, having searched every nook and cranny of Cleveland Park, including the Forest Hill playground where kids sometimes gathered, she drove back to the house. Mitch was already there, standing by his car and talking on a cellular phone.

  She kept her eyes riveted to him as he gave the police dispatcher a thorough description of Alison, grateful for his extraordinary memory.

  When he was finished, he hung up and looked at Kate. "Did she have any money? Enough to take a cab?"

  Not trusting her voice, Kate nodded.

  "Let me have your phone book," he said as they hurried back toward the house.

  In the kitchen, he took the heavy yellow pages she handed him, laid it on top of the island and started flipping through it. Once he had located the listing for local cab companies, he dialed each one, explaining who he was and why he was calling.

  "They’re going to check with all their drivers," he said when he was finished.

  Kate sank into a chair. "I’m scared." She couldn’t remember the last time she had admitted that to anyone.

  Mitch crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his. "I know, Kate. Just hang in there."

  Her heart continued to pound furiously as she imagined the worst-Alison hurt, bleeding, calling for her. "What if someone drove by and saw her and…took her?"

  "We were right behind her, Kate. We would have heard something." He remembered the girl’s violent outburst earlier. "She wouldn’t have gone quietly."

  The words, although spoken with a great deal of faith, failed to reassure her. Unable to hold back her tears, she buried her head in her hands and cried helplessly.

  Huddled in an empty stall and surrounded by nothing but darkness and hay, Alison shivered. Taking a cab to her grandfather’s house and then hiding in one of the stalls had seemed like a good idea at first, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  She pulled her coat collar around her face and tucked her cold hands into the woolly fabric. God, it must be zero degrees in here. If she had realized it would be that cold, she would have worn an extra sweater. And gloves.

  But there had been no time to think. She had been too mad. Mad at that detective for coming to her house, and mad at her mother for talking to him as if he was her new best friend. Couldn’t she see that he was only pretending to be nice? So he could trick her into saying something about her dad.

  And she didn’t like the way he looked at Kate, either. Nobody thought she noticed those things, but she did. She wasn’t stupid.

  What really annoyed her was that she had liked him at first. He wasn’t like other policemen she knew. He was friendly and good-looking. And with his easy manner and crooked little smile, he reminded her a little of Kevin Costner. She had even believed that he was trying to help Tony when all along he had been planning to throw him in jail. What a joke.

  In the next stall, Prince, her grandfather’s high-strung Arabian, was getting restless. She could hear him snorting and shifting around in the confined space.

  How long had she been here? She had no idea. At least an hour. She didn’t want to freeze to death, but she didn’t want to go back too soon, either.

  If she had any guts at all, she would really run away from home, the way Cathy Forrester had after her mother brought their new baby home from the hospital. But Cathy hadn’t gotten very far. The police had found her an hour later, sitting in a bus terminal, trying to figure out what to do next. Her short escapade hadn’t really changed things, but it had helped, and the baby was no longer getting all the attention. Cathy had felt pretty smug after that.

  The sound of footsteps made her jump. Heart pounding, she sank deeper into the hay, terrified it might be a prowler. To her relief, she recognized Billy’s voice. He was talking to Prince.

  "What’s the matter, big guy?" the stable boy asked. "Something spooked you? Okay, okay, I’ll check it out. Keep your shirt on."

  Billy’s footsteps started again, this time in the direction of Alison’s stall. She held her breath. She couldn’t be found yet. It was too soon. Her mother hadn’t worried enough. Still, at the same time, she was glad to have another human being so close by.

  An overhead light came on, nearly blinding her. "Who’s there?" Billy asked.

  How did he know someone was here? Had she left a trail or something?

  "Suit yourself," Billy continued. "But you’re going to be howling when I start poking through that pile of hay with my pitchfork."

  "Don’t!" Alison jumped up, bits of straw sticking to her coat and hair. "It’s me, Alison!"

  Billy lowered the pitchfork. In his hands was a red-and white wool scarf. Her scarf. She hadn’t even realized she had dropped it.

  "Alison! What in God’s name are you doing here? Don’t you know that everyone is looking for you?"

  When she didn’t answer, he walked out and went to pick up a wall phone hooked outside the stall. He dialed, his eyes fixed on Alison.

  "It’s Billy at the stables," he said when someone at the main house answered. "I found Alison. Yeah, she’s fine."

  "Here you are, dear," Rose said gently as she handed Kate a steaming cup of tea. "This will make you feel better. Douglas," she added, glancing at her husband who stood by the fireplace. "Would you care for some tea?"

  "No, thank you."

  Still distraught from the recent ordeal, Kate held her cup with trembling hands. The call that Alison was safe had come a little less than an hour ago. Mitch, who had stayed with her until that time, had left, and she had come straight to Potomac, ready to ground Alison for a year. But the moment she saw her, huddled in one of her grandmother’s quilts, sipping hot chocolate, Kate’s anger had melted away.

  She had tried to talk to her after that, but Alison had claimed she was too tired. She wanted to go upstairs to her old room and sleep. As Kate, anxious to take her daughter home, started to object, Rose had given an imperceptible shake of her head. Seeing the wisdom of that silent message, Kate had let Alison go.

  Rose waited until Kate had taken a sip of her tea before

  speaking again. "About Alison," she said softly. "Maybe it would be best if she stayed with us for a while. The separation might do you both some good."

  Kate’s head shot up. "You want me to let her live here?"

  "It would only be for a short time."

  "Oh, Rose, I couldn’t." Kate’s voice was low, breaking as she spoke. "She’s my daughter. I would be lost without her." She gazed into her tea. "And there’s already such a wall between us. A separation, however short, could make things worse."

  Rose reached across the sofa to touch Kate’s hand. "I know things have been rough between you two since the divorce, but deep down Alison loves you very much. Being away from you for a while might just make her realize that."

  Her heart heavy with sadness and indecision, Kate remained silent. How could she have let it come this far? And what would become of them if she allowed Alison to have her way? What if she never wanted to come home? The thought was so unbearable that her hands began to shake again and she had to put her cup down.

  Of course, she didn’t have to listen to anybody. She could simply exercise her rights as a parent and take Alison home. No one would blame her.

  Except Alison.

  "What about school?" she asked at last. "I was planning to let her return to class in a day or two."

  "I can talk to Flora Cornfield and see if she can arrange for Alison to go back to Sawmill Academy on a temporary basis. I’m sure Flora won’t have any objections-under the circumstances. And she’s always been fond of Alison."

  "Rose is right." Douglas walked toward them, a

  brandy snifter in his hand. Dressed in tan gabardine pants, a white shirt open at the neck and a navy cardigan, he looked very much the lord of the manor. "The change will do the girl good," he continued. "It’ll give her a chance to see things from a different perspective."

  How sensible they were, Kate thought, feeling suddenly very inadequate. No wonder Alison loved it here. There was no chaos, no pressure, no arguments. Only common sense.