Carolina Moon, Page 36

  because things never seem as bad as they were when you're away from them. I suppose I thought that since I felt so .. . normal, that I could have a normal relationship with them."

  She paused, shut her eyes. "But mostly I went back because I wanted to show them what I'd made of myself despite them. Look at me: I have nice clothes, a good job, a happy life. So there." She gave a weak laugh. "I failed on all three levels."

  "No, they did."

  "Doesn't matter. I guess I was a little off balance because of the visit even after I got back to New York. Then one day after work, not long after that, I went by the market. Picked up a few things. I don't even remember exactly. But I took my bag home and started to put everything away."

  She looked down at her water, clear water in a clear glass. "Then I was standing there in that tiny kitchen, with the refrigerator open and a carton of milk in my hand. A carton of milk," she repeated, her voice hardly a whisper. "With a picture of a little girl on the side. Karen Anne Wilcox, age four. Missing. But I wasn't seeing the picture, I was seeing her. Little Karen, only she didn't have blond hair like in the picture. It was brown and cut nearly short as a boy's. She was sitting in a room by herself playing with dolls. It was February, but I could see the sky out her window. Pretty blue sky, and could hear the water. The sea. Why, Karen Anne's in Florida, I thought. She's at the beach. And when I came back to myself, the milk carton was on the floor with the milk spilling out of it."

  She drank again, then set the glass aside. "I was so angry. What business of it was mine? I didn't know this girl, or her parents. I didn't want to know them. How dare they interfere with my life that way? Why should I have to be involved? Then I thought of Hope."

  She rose, walked to the window. "I couldn't stop thinking about her, about the little girl. I went to the police. They thought I was just one more lunatic, passed me off, rolled their eyes while they spoke very slowly, as if I were stupid as well as crazy. I was embarrassed and angry, but I couldn't get the child out of my head. While two of the detectives were interviewing me, I lost my temper. I said something to one of them about how if he weren't so damned closed-minded he'd listen instead of worrying how much the mechanic was going to hose him for over the transmission job.

  "That got their attention. Turned out the older one. Detective Michaels, had his car in the shop. They still didn't believe me, but now I worried them. The interview turned into more of a grilling. They kept pushing and pushing, and my nerves were fraying. The younger one, I guess he was playing good cop, he went out and got me a Coke. He brought back this plastic bag. Evidence bag. Inside were mittens. Bright red mittens. They'd found them on the floor of Macy's, where she'd been snatched while her mother was shopping. At Christmas. She'd been missing since December. He tossed them on the table, like a dare."

  She remembered his eyes. Jack's eyes. The hardness in the beautiful green brilliance of Jack's eyes.

  "I wasn't going to pick them up. I was so angry and ashamed. But I couldn't help it. I picked up the bag, and I saw her so clear, in her little red coat. All the people crowded in, trying to buy presents. The noise. Her mama was right there at the counter, working on picking out a sweater. But she wasn't paying attention, and the little girl wandered off. Just a few feet. Then the woman came and scooped her right up. She bundled her close, so close and tight, and pushed through people and right out the door. No one paid any attention. Everyone was busy. She told Karen to be very quiet because she was taking her to see Santa Claus, and she walked very fast, down the avenue very fast, and there was a car waiting. A white Chevrolet with a dented right fender and New York plates."

  She let out a sigh, shook her head. "I even had the plate number. God, it was all so clear. I could feel the bite of the wind as it whipped down the street. I told them all that, told them what the woman looked like after she took off the black wig. She had light brown hair and pale blue eyes and she was slim. She'd worn a big, bulky coat with padding under it."

  Tory glanced over her shoulder. Cade sat on the bed, watching, listening. "She'd planned this for weeks. She wanted a little girl, a pretty little girl, and she'd picked Karen out when she'd seen her mama walk her to day care. So she took her, that's all. And she and her husband drove straight through to Florida. They cut her hair and dyed it, and didn't let her go outside. They said she was a little boy named Robbie."

  She blinked, turned back. "They found her. It took a while because I couldn't see just where. But they worked with the police in Florida, and within a couple of weeks, they found her in a trailer park in Fort Lauderdale. The people who had her didn't hurt her. They bought her toys and fed her. They were sure she'd just forget. People think children forget, but they don't."

  She sighed. Outside an owl began to hoot in long bass notes that echoed through the marsh and into the room where she stood.

  "So Karen was the first for me. Her parents came to see me after to thank me. They cried. Both of them. I thought, maybe this is a gift. Maybe I'm meant to help people like this. I began to open myself to it, to explore it, even celebrate it. I read everything I could, I submitted to tests. And I began to see Jack—Detective Jack Krentz, the younger of the two cops who'd investigated the kidnapping. I fell in love with him."

  She came back for the water, drained the glass. "There were others after Karen. I thought I'd found the reason I was what I was. I thought I had everything. I was wildly in love with a man I believed loved me, and considered me a kind of partner. Now and again he'd bring something home, ask me to hold it. I was thrilled to be able to help in his work. We did it quietly. I didn't want any credit or any notoriety. But my work with missing children leaked, so I began to get both in that area. And with it, the letters, the calls, the pleas that haunt you night and day. Still I wanted so much to help."

  She set the empty glass aside, wandered away toward the window. "I didn't notice the way Jack was starting to watch me. That cool-eyed stare of his. I thought it was just his way. He was the first man I'd been with, and we were together—we were lovers—for over a year when it started to fall apart.

  "He was seeing someone else. She was there in his mind, her smell in his senses when he came to me. I was betrayed and furious and I confronted him. Well, he was more betrayed, more furious, and much better at it. I had spied on his thoughts. I was worse than a freak. How could he have a relationship with a woman who couldn't respect his privacy, who invaded his mind?"

  "He managed to turn that one around on you. He cheats, and you're wrong." Cade shook his head. "You didn't buy that?"

  "I wasn't quite twenty-two years old. He was my first and only lover. More, I loved him. And I had, however unintentionally, spied on his thoughts. So I took the blame, but it wasn't enough. He began to berate me, to accuse me of trying to take the credit for the good, hard work he put into cases. Whatever he'd felt for me in the beginning had turned into something else and it hurt both of us. And as things were falling apart between us, there was Jonah. Jonah Mansfield."

  She pressed a hand to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut a minute. "Oh, it still breaks my heart. He was eight and had been kidnapped by his parents' former housekeeper. The police knew that, there was a ransom demand of two million dollars. Jack was assigned to the team working the case. He didn't bring it to me. The Mansfields did. They asked me for help, I told them what I could. The boy was being held in some sort of basement. I didn't know if it was a home or a building, but it was across the river. Jack was furious I'd gone around him, behind his back. He wouldn't listen to me. They hadn't hurt the boy, and they were prepared to give him back if the ransom was paid, and if it was delivered exactly as they'd outlined. Was I willing to risk a child's life so I could prove what a wonder I was? That's what he asked me, and he had so eroded my confidence that I wasn't sure."

  She let out a shaky breath. "I'm still not really sure what the answer to that question is. But I could see the boy, and I could see the woman. She was going to let him go. It was only money to her, and pe
tty revenge against the Mansfields for firing her. I told them he was being treated well. He was scared, but he was all right. I told them to pay the ransom, to do what she said and get their son back safe. Really, no more or less than what the police wanted them to do. But what I didn't see, what I didn't see because I was so devastated by Jack, was that the men working with her weren't as cool-headed as she."

  Her voice cracked. Oh yes, she thought. It still breaks the heart. "I told Jack there were two men, but the investigation indicated there was only one. The woman, and one accomplice. I was muddying the waters, getting in the way. When the money was paid, they did what they'd planned to do, what I hadn't seen, all along. They killed Jonah, and the woman."

  She took a deep breath. "I didn't know about it till I heard it on the news, until the reporters started calling me. I'd pulled back, curled up in my own little ball of misery because Jack had turned away from me.

  "I don't know how they expected to get away. They had a van, and it seemed they planned to just drive off. But they hadn't really planned anything. It was the woman who'd laid it all out, who'd calculated the steps. But in the end, they didn't want to share the money with her. They figured they'd just drive west, but the police had trailed the money and were waiting for them.

  "Two police officers were shot, and one of the kidnappers was fatally wounded. I hadn't seen any of that. What I'd persuaded the parents to do resulted in the death of their child."

  "No, the kidnapping resulted in the death of their child. Circumstances, greed, fear."

  "I couldn't have saved him. I've learned to live with that. The same way I've learned to live with not saving Hope. But it left me broken. I spent weeks in the hospital, years in therapy, but I never really got it all back. Not all. Some of the blame was mine, Cade, because I was so distracted, so distraught about Jack that I didn't focus, I didn't pay enough attention. My life was falling apart and I was desperate to keep him part of it. Part of me. Even when he denounced me, helped smear me in the press, I didn't blame him. For a long, long time, I didn't blame him. Part of me still doesn't."

  "He was more concerned about his ego than you. More concerned about his ego than that child."

  "I don't know that. It was a difficult time. He was unhappy in our relationship and wary of me."

  "So he left you twisting in the wind on a rope he helped make. Is that what you expect from me, Tory?"

  "It's what I expected," she said calmly. "At this point, I don't know what to expect from you. I just want you to know I understand what it's like for you."

  "No, I don't think you understand anything. He wasn't in love with you. I am." She made a sound, part gasp, part sob, but stayed exactly where she was. "So." He got to his feet. "What are you going to do about it?"

  "I—" Her throat closed. Not fear, she realized as she stared at him. It wasn't fear filling her. It was hope. Flying on it, she leaped into his arms.

  23

  As horrible as murder was, it was still interesting. A night's distance from it made it more like a movie than real life. Faith wasn't about to stay cooped up at Beaux Reves, when she could poke around in town and be in the center of the reel.

  Lilah had seen through her, of course, and loaded her down with errands. If she was going to gossip, Lilah told her when she'd handed over her list, she might as well be productive, too.

  And she shouldn't forget to report all the details when she got home again.

  There was plenty of gossip to be found.

  At the drugstore, odds were in favor of an old boyfriend who'd come to town to convince Sherry to mend things and then had gone crazy when she'd refused. After all, she'd only been in town a few weeks. A young, pretty girl like that was bound to have left a boyfriend or two back home.

  At the post office there was little doubt the killer had been Sherry's secret lover, and the sex had gotten out of hand. No one named any likely candidates for the secret lover position, but it was a consensus over the stamp buying and certified-letter sending that she'd had one. A woman who looked like that was bound to have a lover. And it was a sure bet he was married, else why had nobody known about him?

  This led to the theory that Sherry had threatened to go to his wife, and the ensuing argument had led to violence.

  The smart money picked up this theory and ran with it, putting every married man in the area between twenty and sixty on the list of suspects, with the odds favoring a teacher or administrator from Progress High.

  But Faith remembered what Tory had said while they'd sat on the grass outside Sherry's apartment. And she remembered Hope.

  It wouldn't hurt to stop by Southern Comfort and see what Tory had to say about things today.

  She stopped by the market first and soberly contemplated the bananas. A few feet away Maxine loaded a bag with apples and sniffled. Faith edged a little closer and picked a bunch of bananas at random.

  "Well, hi there, Maxine. You all right, honey?"

  Maxine shook her head, blinked back fresh tears that swam into her eyes. "I just can't seem to function. Wade gave me the day off because I was feeling so sad, but I couldn't stay home."

  "Maxine, sweetie."

  Faith cursed her faulty internal radar when Boots Mooney guided her shopping cart into produce. She wasn't in the mood to tangle with Wade's mother again.

  The three carts bumped each other, face-to-face. Boots made cooing noises and handed Maxine a hankie.

  "It just keeps hitting me, over and over." Maxine dabbed at her eyes. "I told Ma I'd do the grocery shopping, and now I can't think."

  Boots nodded. "I guess we're all upset about poor Sherry Bellows."

  "I just don't know how it could happen. I don't understand it. It's not supposed to happen here."

  "I know. You shouldn't be scared." Sympathetic, Faith rubbed Maxine's shoulder. "Most people think it was a boyfriend who went crazy."

  "She didn't have a boyfriend." Maxine fumbled in her pocket, pulled out a tattered tissue. "She wasn't seeing anybody at all, but she had a little thing for Wade."

  "Wade?" Faith's hand froze, as did the expression of compassion on her face. Over Maxine's bent head her eyes locked with Boots's.

  "She liked to come in and flirt with him. Started out pumping me for information about him. Not obnoxious like," Maxine added with another sniffle. "But friendly. Interested. You know, was he married, was he seeing someone, that kind of thing."

  Faith dropped her comforting hand. "I see."

  "He's so good-looking, you know. I had a crush on him myself a while back, so I couldn't blame her." Remembering herself, Maxine flushed and peeked above the hankie toward Boots. "Beg your pardon, Miss Boots. Wade, he never—"

  "Of course not." Boots gave Maxine's back a quick pat. "Why, I'd think there was something wrong with a young woman if she didn't get herself a crush on my Wade." Her gaze drifted to Faith again, narrowed. "He's a wonderful man."

  "Yes'm, he is, so you couldn't blame Sherry for having an eye for him." Really, Faith thought. Couldn't you really?

  "And we got to be friends, Sherry and me," Maxine went on, comforted by the two sympathetic pairs of ears. "She helped me study sometimes, and we were going to go out and celebrate when the semester was over. Drive down to Charleston, we thought, and go to some clubs. Said she was man-deprived just now. Didn't mind so much while she'd been getting her degree and starting her career, but she was looking to start dating again." Maxine wiped her eyes again. "She wanted to get married one day, have a family. We talked about it."

  "I'm sorry," Boots answered. "I didn't know you were close."

  "She was just so nice. And she was smart and we had a lot of things in common. She'd worked through college, just like I am. We could talk about clothes and guys and just anything. We both loved dogs. I don't know what's going to happen to her poor dog now. I'd take him, but I just can't."

  She began to weep then, as much for the dog as for her lost friend. "Don't take on so, Maxine." Faith's radar was working now, wel
l enough for her to sense the other shoppers nudging closer to try to catch a few words. "Wade'll find him a good home. And the chief 11 figure all this out."

  "I feel so sick inside. Just yesterday she was laughing and excited. We had lunch together in the park. She was going to work for Tory Bodeen at the new shop. Least she hoped to. She was making all these plans. It's just that she was so alive one minute, and the next . . . I'm just so sad and confused about it."

  "I understand." Faith knew very well what it was like to be left behind after death. "Honey, you should just go on home. Want me to take you?"

  "No, thanks, no. I think I'll just walk. I keep expecting to see her, coining down the street with Mongo. I just keep expecting that," Maxine murmured, and scrubbing at tears, walked toward the exit.

  "I know," Faith said quietly, and turned blindly away. She couldn't explain how much worse it was when you did see the dead, every time you looked in the mirror.

  "Here." Boots held out a second hankie.

  "You're prepared." Annoyed with herself, Faith took it long enough to stop any damage to her mascara.

  "I'm heartsick about that girl, and barely knew her." To give Faith a moment to recover, Boots began to select apples. "I came out myself today because I couldn't think about anything else at home. Poor little Maxine. How much harder is it on her? It was kind of you to offer to take her home."

  "It would've gotten me out of marketing duty."

  Boots laid a hand on Faith's arm until Faith looked at her. "It was kind of you," she repeated. "It's a comfort to me to see kindness in the woman my son is in love with. Just as it was to see that little flash of jealousy. All in all, I'm glad I decided to give myself and J.R. a break from our diet and make apple cobbler tonight. You give my best to your mother, and Lilah, won't you?"

  Boots glided away with her apples, leaving Faith frowning after her. "Pretty sharp, aren't you, Miss Boots, for all your fluttering?" Faith mumbled. "Pretty goddamn sharp."

  Irritated, Faith pushed her cart through produce, plucking up Lilah's items and wishing she'd skipped the damn market altogether.

  She had been jealous. Damn it. Had Wade flirted back? She scowled at the boxes of butter in dairy. Of course he had. He was a man. Very likely he'd considered doing more than flirting. The bastard. How many times had he imagined Sherry naked, fantasized about getting her that way, and then . . .