Blueprints: A Novel (14 page)

Her eyes filled with tears. Unable to grasp
dead,
she focused on details. “A tree fell. Did it crush them, push them into another car, make them go off the road, maybe flip over? Part of River Run has a really steep drop-off.”

Brad cupped her shoulder with a hand that said,
Not important now, Jamie,
but the police chief understood her. Gently, he said, “The car was on the road under a large tree. A forensic team from the state is on its way there now. We won’t know whether the cause of death was blunt force trauma from the tree or from the sudden stop until an autopsy is done.”

“Do you think it was instant?”

“For Roy, yes.”

“Was Jess conscious?”

“No, but breathing. I don’t know who of her family to call, and there’s the matter of whoever’s staying with Tad. Someone has to call Randi.” Miranda MacAfee was Roy’s only sibling. She lived in California, well removed from MacAfee Homes. “First, we have to tell Theo. Would you like me to do that?”

Feeling a soul-deep dread, Jamie looked up at Brad. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, but he did get this. “You should be with Tad,” he said. “Should I go to Theo’s?”

“No. Um, no. No.” She cleared her throat. “Mom will. She’ll know how to do it.” Caroline was the
only
one who could tell Theo. Jamie had no doubt of that, but she was struggling with who else to call and what to say, trying to order her thoughts in a nightmare for which she was ill prepared. “Maybe you can go to the … scene.”

*   *   *

Jamie didn’t cry. There was too much to be done. After hurriedly throwing water on her face, she stuck her hair in a ponytail and pulled on jeans and a shirt. She grabbed for her phone with such a shaky hand that she nearly dropped it before getting a grip.

Brad had already put up the convertible top. He gave her a hug before she climbed in. “Are you sure I can’t come with you?”

She nodded. “I’m okay.”

As she headed out, though, she wondered. Jess might survive, but
dead
was final. Just as she hadn’t been able to grasp her phone, she couldn’t grasp that Roy was gone. Part of her wanted to go to the scene first. Until she saw her father’s car, she wouldn’t believe this was real. He drove a BMW. People didn’t die in BMWs.

But Paul Logan had seen the car, and his pain was clear.

Hands tight on the wheel, Jamie drove over roads that were slick and littered with branches and leaves. At least the sporadic house light said there was power on Caroline’s side of town.

Only as she turned onto her mother’s street did she remember their rift. Rift or not, though, Caroline would be there for Theo. That was who she was.

The front walk was as littered as the street, the front steps soggy. Even the porch showed wear and tear from gusting winds. Ignoring the wrought-iron chair overturned near the table, Jamie reached for the doorbell and was about to press it, then pulled out her phone instead and dialed. Caroline slept with her phone on the nightstand—
in case you need me,
she always said.

I need you, Mom,
she thought.
I need you now.

She heard the phone ring inside once, twice, and pictured Caroline groping for it and squinting at the caller ID as it rang a third time. Just shy of voice mail, there was a groggy “Not now, Jamie. It can wait till morning.”

“Dad’s dead,” Jamie said in a breathy rush. “I’m downstairs at your door. Someone has to tell Theo.”

There was a long pause. Jamie was wondering whether she should ring the doorbell after all when she heard a hurried footfall descending inside.

The porch light came on and Caroline opened the door.
“What?”
she asked in quiet alarm as she pushed the screen open.

“Paul Logan just came to my house,” Jamie said and rushed out the details she knew.

Her mother looked stunned. After a frozen moment, she gave a tiny headshake and wrapped her arms around Jamie. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, “
so
sorry.” Her hold was strong and precious. It wasn’t long enough to stop the trembling deep inside, but Jamie was grateful nonetheless.

Too soon, Caroline drew back. Eyes clouded in disbelief, she asked questions, like where Roy and Jess had been and whether air bags had deployed, but they were filler, simply buying time for news that was unreal to sink in. Finally, plowing both hands—the right with its Velcro wrap—into her tousled hair, she held her elbows up and cupped her head. “Theo will be devastated. I’ll go there.”

“That would be huge,” Jamie breathed. “Brad went to the scene. I have to call Jess’s mother. She lives near Leominster and can be here in an hour, assuming she wants to come.” Jess had no siblings, just a mother and stepfather with their own children, their own interests, their own lives. There were issues, Jamie knew, not the least being resentment of Roy and the easy life he offered Jess.

“Of course she’ll come.”

“They weren’t on good terms.” Nor were Jamie and Caroline, yet here they were. She raised tearful, fear-filled eyes. “What do I tell Tad’s sitter? She’s probably, like, fifteen. She’ll freak out.”

Seeming bewildered for a minute herself, Caroline finally inhaled. “Just say that Roy and Jess are detained—uh, that they’re having car problems and that you’re filling in.”

“Dad usually drives her home.”

“One of her parents will have to come. You should call them yourself.”

Definitely. She could do that. Trust Caroline to know what to do. She was always level-headed. “Mom, about before—”

Gentle fingers touched her mouth. “Shhhh. We’ll talk later. Right now, you need to deal with Tad.”

“But how? What do I do? What do I say?”

“He’ll be asleep a while longer, so you have time. If Jess wakes up, she can tell you what she wants you to say.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Jamie asked. “What if she’s in a coma for days … or … or in a permanent vegetative state?”

“Don’t go there yet.”

But how could Jamie not?
I named you my son’s godmother.
They were the most innocent of the angry, vindictive words she and Roy had exchanged—their last words to each other on this earth—less than twelve hours before he died. Now they took on even deeper meaning. Two years ago, shortly after Tad’s birth, Roy and Jess had asked, and Jamie had agreed, that she also be the boy’s guardian should anything happen to them.

She hadn’t thought twice about it. Nothing would happen to Roy and Jess.

Now something had.

Most people lost parents. It was the generational order of things. But so soon? So
suddenly
? She couldn’t begin to grasp that Roy was gone. For Tad’s sake alone, she could only pray Jess would survive.

nine

Theo MacAfee lived in a Tudor-style home at the east end of town. It had been one of the company’s first showcase properties in Williston, and Theo’s wife loved it too much to sell. Caroline had always thought it dark, though as she approached it this night, the darkness was internal. Roy was gone. Crushed. Silenced forever.

It was surreal. Oh, she knew he was human, knew it better than anyone, perhaps. But he had always been so cocksure of himself. Sudden death did not seem possible.

Other than a residual dripping from trees, the rain had stopped by the time she pulled under the portico and climbed up the broad stone steps. Her heart was heavy as she rang the bell. She waited, wishing she were anywhere else but knowing she had to be here. She was more vigilant when she pressed the button a second time, listening for the bell, hearing it, knowing it worked.
Patience, Caroline.
Theo had day help, but nights he was alone. He would be startled from sleep and slow to descend.

But descend he finally did, put on a light, and opened the door with a groggy caution. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw Caroline. Seeming to know that only something desperately wrong would bring her to his door in the middle of the night, he stood aside.

She slipped in, closed the door, spoke quickly and softly. For a split second, she saw panic in those blue eyes. He looked at the floor and swallowed once. Then, either because he was overwhelmed with too many emotions or simply unwilling to think, his face went blank. Caroline was midsentence, saying that Jamie was going to be with Tad, when he turned, went to the phone on the hall table, and punched in a number with a large-knuckled hand.

“MacAfee here,” he barked. “Get me the chief.” The police dispatcher must have been waiting for his call, because he was immediately patched through. Frozen in place with his shoulders bent, he said a gruff word here or there but mostly listened. The conversation was brief. When he hung up, he murmured, “Paul’s coming.” Holding up a shaky
stay
finger to Caroline, he went back upstairs to dress.

She would have waited even without the command. She couldn’t leave him alone at a time like this. Sinking into a Louis XIV chair that was nestled into the newel curve, she looked around at old-world furnishings, original art, creative ceramics that Patricia MacAfee had collected. What she kept seeing, though, was the look on Theo’s face in the instant she’d told him the news. Panic was one word for it, but it also held shreds of horror and loss. It was here and gone in a second, but she knew that look. Her father had worn a similar one at the beginning of the end—knowing what was happening, not knowing how to deal. The look was wrong in both men, the kind of expression that a person who had led a full and commanding life should never wear.

Feeling lost herself, Caroline thought about calling Dean. But without more information?

She shifted in the chair. With nothing to do but think, she had a growing sense of the enormity of what had occurred. Theo had lost his son, Jamie and Tad their father, Jess her husband. The town had lost a leader. MacAfee Homes had lost its heir.

At the sound of a motor, she jumped up. She reached the door just as a cruiser pulled in behind her truck. Paul approached wearing a devastated look.

“How’s Jessica?” Caroline asked.

“On life support. They’re not optimistic.”

She pressed a hand to her mouth. Life support was more definitive than unconscious, not good at all. Jamie would need to know. Now that Paul was here, Caroline could drive to Roy’s to help her there.

Just then, though, Theo came down the stairs. Seeming older and more frail, he was gripping the banister, taking one step at a time. He cleared his throat as he met Paul’s eyes.

“I’ll leave you,” Caroline said gently, but the words were barely out when Theo grasped her arm.

“No.” He shot her a look that reprised a world of fear, then said a lower “Stay. I’ll ride with you.”

Could she deny him? He had been her father-in-law once, and in the years since, he had been in her corner more times than she could count. He was such a solitary figure now—such a
tragic
figure—that, much as she wanted to be with Jamie, she couldn’t leave Theo just yet.

*   *   *

Jamie had stopped trying to differentiate windshield spatter from tears. More than once, when she could barely see, she thought about pulling over. But she needed to be at Roy’s. She had to let the babysitter leave and then call Jess’s mother. She wasn’t looking forward to that, but it was probably an easier task than the one Caroline faced.

Tougher, for Jamie, would be seeing Tad.

Her headlights cut a bleeding swath through wooded streets. As many times as she had visited here, she had never done it at this hour or with this burden. Her throat was an aching knot by the time she reached the house.

It was one of the newer French manor homes built by Roy on a triple-size lot. It was bigger than anything he and Jess would ever need, and far too pretentious for Jamie’s liking. Separated from neighbors and surrounded by woods, its lights were a beacon in the dark.

As fate had it, the babysitter’s mother was already there. Apparently, Jess had promised that they would be home by midnight, and when that had been missed by an hour with neither texts nor phone calls answered, the girl was worried enough to call home.

Holding it together by a thread, Jamie explained that there had been a problem and that she was filling in. It wasn’t a lie. They would know the truth soon enough. Williston had a handful of citizens who monitored the police frequency for sport. For all she knew, word had already begun to spread.

Apologizing profusely, she overpaid the girl, saw them out, and headed for Tad’s room. Despite the many times Roy had talked of buying a toddler bed, it hadn’t appeared yet. Tad was in his crib, sound asleep on his side with an arm around his favorite stuffed dog, the new moose fallen over behind him, and a zoo of other animals scattered about. She barely breathed as she listened for his soft, steady sounds. The child was blissfully unaware of the unfolding tragedy.

Child?
Try “baby,”
Jamie thought. He was a
baby
who would now never know his father. How could that
be
?

Overwhelmed with anger and unable to help herself, she started to cry. She quickly left the room so that she wouldn’t wake Tad, and ran down to the kitchen.

Struggling to stem her tears, just needing to get this done, she searched for Jess’s mother’s number. Naturally, it would be on Jess’s iPhone, but that would be in the car, a brutal mental image there. Plan B had her opening Jess’s laptop to pull up Contacts. But … password? Jamie had no idea. Plan C—and there it was,
Maureen Olson,
at the very bottom of the list of emergency numbers in the kitchen drawer. Jamie suspected it was wishful thinking on Jess’s part that the woman would actually be there for her in a pinch.

Nonetheless, Jamie felt deep sympathy waking Maureen in the middle of the night with news like this. The woman was stunned. When she couldn’t get a word out, her husband came on to ask specifics of the accident.

Jamie wished she knew more. She wished she didn’t have to now call her aunt. She wished her father, whose last words to her—and hers to him—had been ones of anger, would drive up any minute and walk through the door. She wished her mother were here.