Suspicion (36 page)

  Maybe he was with Senator McKackney. Although Rose wasn’t aware of any problem, she knew from Sander and Sean’s many phone calls these past couple of days, that something was wrong. Maybe Douglas was at Sander’s house, discussing whatever was troubling him.

  She hurried toward her husband’s study to look for Sander’s phone number. She would feel much better once Douglas was here. He was so good in a crisis.

  She opened the study door, took a few steps inside, then stopped dead in her tracks.

  Douglas was there, standing in front of the wall safe where he kept their important papers. "Douglas!"

  He whipped around, looking startled.

  She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God you’re here." Her hands twisting in despair, she rushed toward him. "Alison has been kidnapped."

  "What?"

  "She’s been kidnapped," Rose repeated. "We don’t know by whom or why-"

  "Have you called the FBI?"

  A sob caught in Rose’s throat. "Kate said not to. She’s on her way here. So is Detective Calhoon. He’ll know…" As Douglas took a step back, she suddenly noticed for the first time the bundle of money he held in his hand. "What are you doing with all that money?"

  When he didn’t answer, her eyes took in the entire scene detail by detail-the pallor of her husband’s cheeks, the open safe, the stack of bills, the passport…

  She was filled with an inexplicable sense of dread, a foreboding that something terrible was about to happen. "Douglas?" His hands, still clutching the money and the passport, fell to his sides. His face was ashen now and his eyes spoke of a torment she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. "What are you doing with all that money? And your passport?" She searched his eyes, afraid of his answer.

  For a moment, he looked at a loss for words. Then, as if he had been suddenly touched by a magic wand, he started to function again. Shocked, Rose watched him walk to his desk and stuff the money into a bag that lay on his desk. "I’m going on a trip, Rose."

  "A trip?" She came closer, forcing him to look at her. "I just told you that your granddaughter has been kidnapped and you’re going on a trip?"

  "My staying here isn’t going to change anything. Calhoon is the expert in that department." He slid the passport into his breast pocket. "If the abductors want a ransom, contact the bank and do what has to be done. I left you plenty of money."

  In a daze, Rose glanced into his bag. He had packed light clothing, the kind he always took when they went to Bermuda. "Where are you going?"

  "That’s not important."

  "Not important?" She laughed, a short, nervous laugh that caught in her throat. "I come in here, find you with your bags packed, a stack of money in your hands, and when I ask you where you’re going, you tell me it’s not important? What kind of answer is that?"

  He continued to look at her, his mouth set in a tight, stubborn line. But she could be just as stubborn. And he knew it.

  "I won’t let you go, Douglas. Not until you tell me what’s going on. Is it Sander? Or his son? Are they in trouble?"

  How many times had he told her, jokingly, that she was too damned smart for her own good, that under that sweet smile and easy disposition was the mind of a shrewd and discerning woman. She had never thought of herself as particularly shrewd. Intuitive perhaps, but not shrewd. It was that intuition that made her realize that the problem was much more serious than she had first thought.

  "What did they do, Douglas?" Fragments of recent phone conversations came back to her. She took his hands in hers. "It’s about that old rape case, isn’t it? Somehow the whole thing has become unraveled and you’re right in the middle of it."

  Douglas looked down at their entwined hands. "It’s more complicated than that."

  Although the house was pleasantly warm, she felt a sudden chill. "Then tell me what it is. Let me help you."

  He glanced beyond her shoulder, at the clock behind her. "There isn’t time."

  "You’ll have to make time," she said, in a voice she hoped conveyed enough authority. "I’m your wife. If you are in trouble, I want to know about it. I have the right to know about it."

  Douglas sighed. It was the sigh of a man with a heavy burden on his shoulders. "I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. The others will be arrested shortly. I could be next."

  "Arrested!"

  "Sean McKackney raped that girl," Douglas continued. "And I helped Sander fabricate an alibi for his son."

  Although the confession stunned her, Rose tried not to show it. She knew there was more, much more, and she wanted to hear it all. "Helped? How?"

  Calmly, Douglas picked up an address book from his desk and slid it into his breast pocket with the passport. "Sander and I had a mutual friend-Maddy Mays. You know her, she was our neighbor for a while." He looked away. "After Henry died, she started a call-girl ring. The young woman I hired to play Sean’s girlfriend that night was one of Maddy’s girls."

  Rose remembered Maddy well. And she knew all about her reputation. To hear her husband admit to a relationship with a former hooker awakened feelings of jealousy she didn’t know she had. "Were you a customer of Maddy Mays, Douglas?" she asked sharply. "Did you sleep with her? Or with any of those women?"

  "You know that’s not my style, Rose. I didn’t even know Maddy was running a call-girl ring until Sander told me."

  "And that’s why you’re running away? Because you helped Sander lie?"

  He held her gaze. "The girl I hired to help Sean that night was Gina Lamont."

  This time, Rose couldn’t conceal her shock. "The woman Eric is accused of murdering?"

  He zipped his bag shut. "Yes."

  Unable to grasp the full meaning of what he had just told her, Rose shook her head slowly from side to side. "You knew Gina Lamont?"

  "Yes," Douglas whispered. "I’m the one who briefed her and rehearsed her before we went to the police station."

  "Oh, Douglas."

  "Don’t give me that shocked look, Rose. What was I to do? My best friend was in trouble. Yes, his son had done a terrible thing, but Sander still loved him as much as you love your own son. If he had let Sean face the rape charge, the kid’s medical career, and his life, would have been destroyed."

  "What about the young woman he raped!" Rose cried. "He destroyed her life, didn’t he?" Rather than answer, Douglas closed his hand around the bag handle. Rose remained in front of him, determined not to let him go until she had heard everything. "What happened? Did that poor girl finally decide to talk about the rape?"

  "No. I never heard from her again."

  "Then who-"

  "I don’t have time to explain, Rose. Maybe later-"

  She gripped his wrist and forced him to put the bag down. "You’re going to tell me now. Someone must have talked, or threatened to. Surely not Maddy or your other accomplices. They had more to lose than you did."

  He yanked his hand away. "Dammit, Rose, let me go."

  "Was it Gina?"

  "All right!" he shouted. "It was Gina. Are you satisfied now? The bitch was blackmailing me. She was blackmailing all three of us-me, Sander and Maddy."

  "Blackmailing you…?"

  "That’s right. She demanded one million dollars from each one of us."

  Rose’s next question came on a whisper. "Did you give her the money?" Douglas didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She had already guessed the rest. Horrified, she took a step back. "You killed her, didn’t you? You’re the one who killed Gina Lamont, not Eric."

  Then came an even more staggering realization, one that hit her with such force she had to hold on to Douglas’s desk for support.

  He had let Eric take the blame for Gina’s murder.

  "Look, Rose, I’m sorry, okay? I never meant for things to go this far."

  This time, he was the one who took her arm, but she wrenched it free. All of a sudden, his touch had become unbearable. "You knew Eric was innocent!" she cried. "You knew it all along, and yet you stood in this very house, accusing him of a crime you committed, plotting with Abigail to have him captured."

  "I wouldn’t have let him go to prison, you know that."

  "Liar!" Her fury unchained, she threw herself at him and started pounding his chest with her fists. "You framed my son for murder! You were ready to have him stand trial so you could save your skin. And that of your precious friends."

  He took all her blows. When he couldn’t take any more, he gripped her wrists and held her back until, exhausted, she collapsed onto a chair and buried her face in her hands. Sobs she could no longer hold back poured out of her, draining her, sapping her of all strength. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, or for which of the two men she loved she cried the most.

  When she looked up, Douglas was gone.

  Kate shot onto the busy beltway at fifty miles an hour, ignoring the honks of an angry driver who had barely missed her. Somewhere behind her, the sound of a siren filled the air. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed what she already knew. A police car, lights blazing, was coming after her.

  She didn’t slow down. Her hands tightly clasped on the steering wheel, she wove the Saab in and out of traffic with an expertise she had never had to test before.

  She tried desperately not to give in to the panic, to the paralyzing fear that made her heart pound and turned her throat so dry she couldn’t swallow. Forcing her mind to remain blank, she concentrated only on the traffic. And on safely getting to Douglas’s house. It wouldn’t help matters if she had an accident now. Or if she allowed a highway trooper to stop her.

  As the Welcome to Maryland sign came into view, she was relieved to see that the police car was falling back. As she had expected, he had broken off the chase, and she knew why. A regulation that prosecutors had tried to fight for years prohibited District police from pursuing anyone across the state line unless he or she was a suspected murderer. As long as the officer didn’t notify the Maryland police, she was safe.

  At last, the Fairchilds’ mansion came into view, looking

  so grand and peaceful it was impossible to imagine the drama that was unfolding within its walls.

  At the entrance, Kate slammed on the brakes, coming within inches of Mitch’s car. Her heart hammering inside her chest, she ran up the half-dozen steps that led to the front door, then, not bothering to ring the bell, she threw the door open.

  She could hear Mitch’s voice, strong, calm, reassuring. Pressing a fist against her mouth, she raced down the hall until she reached the drawing room. As she stood on the threshold, all eyes turned toward her, but it was Mitch she ran to. "Oh, Mitch, they took my baby."

  His strong arms encircled her. He spoke softly as he buried his face in her hair. "We’ll find her, Kate. I promise you, we’ll find her."

  "Do you really believe that?" Her voice was turning shrill. "I’m sure Bruno is the one who took her. The same beast who tried to kill you, who attacked me-"

  Rose, her eyes red from crying, came to stand next to them. "Who is Bruno?"

  "He works for Maddy Mays," Mitch replied.

  "Then Douglas must know him." Rose looked at the detective. "Oh, Mitch, do you think he could have had something to do with Alison’s kidnapping? His own granddaughter?"

  "What are you two talking about?" Kate interrupted sharply. "Where is Douglas?"

  Gently, Mitch pulled Kate onto a sofa. "All we know is that Douglas is up to his neck in trouble, but there’s no time to explain right now." He held her hands in his. "Tell me what Alison said on the phone."

  Kate repeated Alison’s brief message.

  "Sander McKackney has a cabin in the mountains," Rose said in a voice that was barely audible.

  Mitch and Kate exchanged a glance. "Do you know where it is?" Mitch asked.

  "In the Catoctin Mountains. He and Douglas used to go hunting there. But I’m afraid I don’t know the exact address."

  Remembering that Eric had gone with them on a couple of occasions, Kate turned to Rose. "Doesn’t Douglas have a map with the route to the cabin already traced out?"

  "I believe he does. It should be in his study."

  "Please get it, Rose. Hurry."

  Rose rushed out of the room and returned a few moments later, carrying a large-scale map of Frederick County. She spread it open on the coffee table. "The cabin is on Tower Road," she said, tracing the thick, blue penciled line with her finger. "A little over an hour from here." She handed him a dozen or so pictures. "I found these with the map. They were taken during a recent trip and show the landscape around the area quite well."

  They did, Mitch thought as he flipped through the photographs. The house, an A-frame log structure, sat on a mountain slope and had a large deck overlooking the narrow, winding road below. Not the best rescue conditions if someone was watching from a window, but the wooded area surrounding the house would provide adequate cover.

  "Mitch." He felt Kate’s fingers sink into his arm. "I waited until now in the hope that someone would call and tell us what they wanted in exchange for Alison, but…" She shook her head. "It’s been an hour since Alison called. There’s no more time to waste. We have to do something."

  "I think we should call the FBI," Rose said again. "When Ellen Faraguay’s son disappeared last year-"

  Kate cut her short. "We will not call the FBI. It would take them too long to set up a rescue operation." The

  pressure on Mitch’s arm increased. "I want you to do it, Mitch."

  Startled, he turned to look at her and was shocked to see the expression on her face. He had seen it many times before-on the faces of other mothers who had entrusted him with the lives of their children. It was a mixture of desperation, hope and absolute trust. Once perhaps, he had been worthy of such blind faith, but not anymore.