Someone Must Die (15 page)

She had trusted Jonathan. But if he had deceived her about knowing her in college and had never told her about his relationship with Gertrude, what else had he lied about?

“Tell me the truth, Jonathan. Why didn’t you ever talk to me about Gertrude or Stormdrain or April Fool?”

“I’ve tried very hard to block out those days.”

“Why?” she asked. “What was it to you?”

He stared at the white tiled floor, yellowed and cracked with age. “Losing Gertrude was devastating,” he said. “I loved her very much.”

The words smacked Diana across her cheek with an old, familiar sting. She felt violated and hurt, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because Jonathan had lied to her, or because the old rivalry between her and Gertrude was still alive.

But how could that be? Gertrude was dead.

C
HAPTER
24

Two blond children around Ethan’s age were splashing each other at the shallow end of the hotel pool. Aubrey watched their parents put water wings on their arms and set out a pail with an assortment of plastic animals on the steps.

If only we could always be around to watch over our children. To forever be like the untouched family in her snow globe. She was glad Kevin had gone back up to his room and didn’t have to see this happy family. He had left abruptly after their talk, clearly upset. She had hoped to comfort him, but had only succeeded in bringing his feelings of guilt to the surface.

Given what she knew of family relationships, she shouldn’t have been surprised that she and Kevin had viewed that awful period in their childhood so differently, but she had been. For Kev, it had been the “War of the Lynds,” something he blamed himself for, while she had always associated the change in her parents with the kidnapping of Jimmy Ryce. Regardless of what had caused it, their parents’ subsequent coldness toward each other had left its mark on both her and Kev. They had spent much of their childhood careful not to do anything that might upset either parent.

They had been a dysfunctional family, but she and Kev had both believed that was better than a broken family. Considering the scars she could see in herself and her brother, maybe it would have been better if they had just let go.

But “what ifs” didn’t matter right now, not with Ethan missing. She got up and went back inside the hotel. She would check on whether there were any new developments, then head home so she could get back to her own research.

The command center was as busy as when she had left nearly an hour earlier. Prudence and Ernest were still at a table in the midst of their investigators. Her father and Star had arrived while she was with Kevin and were standing by themselves in a corner of the room. They were agitated, as though in the midst of a disagreement. Her father’s face was flushed, and Star stood stiffly, her short white hair standing on end like the crest of a cockatoo. Star turned and walked quickly toward the main door, silky-blue pants and top flowing behind her, a huge Louis Vuitton tote over her shoulder. She caught Aubrey watching her, changed direction as subtly as a navigator adjusting her course, and came toward her. The muscles in Star’s face shifted from tense to concerned.

“Well, hello, Aubrey,” she said, in her slow southern drawl. “I didn’t see you before. Is your mother here, too?”

“No. Just me.”

She brushed nonexistent hair back from her face with her jeweled fingers in what seemed to be a nervous or distracted gesture. There were dark circles under her blue eyes and a web of fine lines beneath her makeup that Aubrey hadn’t noticed the night before in the time-share apartment. She didn’t believe Star was genuinely concerned about Ethan and wondered what she was losing sleep over.

“I imagine her fiancé is a comfort to her,” Star said.

“We’re all trying to comfort each other.”

“I only ask because I care about her,” Star said, possibly picking up the coolness in Aubrey’s voice. “And, yes, perhaps I’m also feeling a little guilty that your father is here with me when your mother’s the one who could use his support.” Star patted her arm. “I’m not a witch, dear. I hope you’ll believe that.”

Not a witch, but certainly witchlike.

Her father stepped between them. “Hello, Aubrey,” he said with a formal nod, probably still angry about their argument the night before.

“Dad.”

“I’m going to get a cup of tea,” Star said. “Can I bring back something for either of you?” They both said no and thanked her, and Star left them.

Her father rubbed the back of his neck and surveyed the room, as though at a loss for something to say. “Quite an operation they put together,” he said. “You’ve got to give the Simmers that much.”

“What were you and Star arguing about?”

He pressed his lips together and stared at the door Star had left through. The flatness of his expression was very different from the passionate man in the photo that her mother had shown her this morning. A white knight upon a snowy stallion. But no more. At least not for Mama or Aubrey.

“Star’s exhausted,” he said. “We both are. It’s put us on edge.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound dismissive.” He touched her arm. “Why don’t we step outside?”

They left the room and found a couple of chairs at the end of the hallway.

“This is better,” he said, sitting down. “There are a lot of ears in there.”

“And you don’t want them to hear something?”

He looked down at the gold-and-blue swirl-patterned carpet. “You never know who’s on your team and who isn’t.”

A memory nagged at her. She had been eight and was playing in a neighborhood soccer league. Mama hadn’t been able to get to the game, but Dad was home from a long out-of-town trial and came to cheer her on. She was so proud of her handsome father shouting to her from the bleachers.

“Run, Princess!” Somehow, she got turned around and kicked the ball into her own team’s goal. She didn’t understand why her teammates were yelling at her, why some of the grown-ups had angry faces.

“Stupid kid,” one of the mothers said.

Her father glared at the woman, scooped Aubrey up, and carried her away from the field. He let her cry against his chest until she ran out of tears. Then he took her to Frazier’s and bought her a pistachio ice-cream sundae.

He told her something she had forgotten until now.

I’m proud of you for trying your best, Princess. That’s what matters. Sometimes things happen. You get confused. You want so much to help your team, but you end up hurting them. But you can’t keep punishing yourself. You have to try to move on.

Now, she couldn’t help but wonder what team he had hurt and whether he had ever moved on.

“Tell me about your mother,” he said, turning his attention from the carpet. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “How’s she holding up?”

Mama had been looking at photos of him this morning. Thinking of him, too. But was he genuinely concerned about her, or asking to be polite?

She met his eyes. Bloodshot like Kevin’s. “She’s doing okay.”

He let out a small sigh. “You don’t believe I have a right to worry about her, but I do. Especially after the attack against her by those people last night.”

“You attacked her, too, yesterday. Blamed her for Ethan going missing.”

“I was upset. I never had any doubt that your mother loves Ethan and only has the best intentions toward him. But the Coles are a couple of contemptible slanderers.”

“The Simmers seem to believe they’re behind the kidnapping.”

“They have their own reasons for diverting the investigation toward the Coles,” her father said. “It takes the heat off them.”

“You think the Simmers are involved?”

He shook his head. “I almost wish that were the case.”

“Then who do you think has Ethan?”

“Last night, you were very hard on me.”

Why was he changing the subject? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was frustrated. Ethan’s missing, and I don’t understand why you—”

He held up his hand. “You made me think about things I would have preferred to keep buried.”

She shuddered with apprehension. But this was what she wanted. To know whether her parents were keeping secrets from her. Secrets that might be connected to Ethan’s disappearance. “What things?”

“In the past. My past, your mother’s past. And I began to wonder whether someone from those days could have kidnapped Ethan to get back at us.”

She sat up straighter. Her mother had denied this possibility last night. “Back at you for what? Tell me, Dad. You’re talking in riddles.”

A little girl in a long party dress with ribbons streaming from her hair came racing down the long hallway, giggling. She stopped a short distance from them and darted behind a heavy drape.

Her father stared at the shifting drape.

“What would someone want to get back at you for?” Aubrey asked again.

“Your mother and I were involved with a radical organization in college.”

Why hadn’t Mama told her this?

“Things went very wrong,” her father said. “Three of our friends died.”

“Jesus, Dad. Were you and Mom members of Stormdrain?”

His face paled. He covered it with his hands.

Aubrey became dizzy, as though she were standing on top of a ladder, about to fall over. “Were you?” she asked again. “Were you involved with Stormdrain?”

He didn’t answer. Just sat with his hands over his eyes.

She felt a sensation like hundreds of ants crawling over her arms and back. Her mother had said she’d been walking past the brownstone when it exploded, but she had specifically said she hadn’t been responsible.

Had Mama lied to her?

She couldn’t imagine either of her parents knowingly killing anyone. If they had, they would have been arrested and convicted.

“Dad. I need to know. Did you or Mom have something to do with the brownstone explosion?”

He met her eyes. They were filled with a pain she’d never seen before. “No,” he said. “Of course not.”

“Casey, come out,” a child’s voice called. A little boy wearing a bow tie and dress shorts was trotting down the hallway, looking left and right. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

Aubrey took a deep breath. She wanted so much to believe her father. “But you said things went very wrong, and your friends died.”

He hesitated. “Yes, but not because of us.”

Her parents were not murderers. Her father had to be telling the truth. “Is it possible someone might blame you anyway?” she asked.

“Casey,” the boy called. “Casey, come out now!”

“That’s what’s concerning me.” He blinked at something in the distance and tensed. Star was at the other end of the hallway, coming toward them. “Let’s not talk about this in front of her.”

“But if you think you know why someone kidnapped Ethan, you must tell the FBI.”

“Not now,” he said quietly as Star came within earshot.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Star said. “May I join you?”

He stood and offered Star his chair. He didn’t look happy. Neither was Aubrey. The clock was ticking. If her father knew something, they needed to act on it quickly.

Star sat down with her back straight, like someone taught in cotillion. “So what have you two been talking about?”

Her father’s eyes met Aubrey’s. They said,
later
. “Just about how worried we both are,” he said to Star.

“Of course.” Star reached over and patted his hand.

Aubrey needed to get her father away from Star. She was about to suggest that he go with her to check on Kevin, when her phone rang.
Our love is stronger than the pain.

“That’s probably your mother,” Star said. “Please answer. Don’t mind us.”

Aubrey glanced at her father. He had a troubled expression on his face. She pressed “Answer.” “Are you okay, Mama?”

“I’m fine,” her mother said. “I didn’t want you to worry. I’m going to Jonathan’s apartment.”

“Jonathan’s? Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed home?”

“Home doesn’t feel like home.”

“I understand. I’ll let you know if anything happens here.”

Aubrey heard giggles erupt into laughter as she ended the call.

The little boy had pulled back the drape, exposing the little girl. “I found you!” he shouted.

“Is she all right?” her father asked.

“Yes,” Aubrey said.

“I wish I could say the same about me,” Star said, massaging her temples. “Here I’m supposed to be holding you up, Larry, and I keep fading.”

“Can I get you something?” His voice sounded off, like a mechanical recording.

“No, thank you, dearest.” She stood up. “The best thing for me is a little shut-eye. I’ll take a taxi back to the apartment.”

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

No!
Aubrey wanted to shout at her father.
I need you to stay here and talk to me.

“Absolutely not.” Star pushed her wispy white bangs back from her forehead. “You need to be here in case something happens. I’ll take a little nap; then I’ll be back later.”

She gave him a pat on the chest, nodded at Aubrey, then turned and walked down the hallway.

The two children ran past her, chasing each other.

“Okay,” Aubrey said. “She’s gone. Now tell me. Why do you think someone might blame you or Mama for the brownstone explosion?”

Her father was looking after Star, a frown on his face, though she was no longer in sight.

“What?” he said, clearly distracted.

Something was going on between her father and Star, but Aubrey had no idea what it was. She needed to bring him back to what mattered. “You said someone may have kidnapped Ethan to get back at you.”

He blinked. “Did I say that?”

“Yes. Dad, what’s going on? If you have a lead about Ethan, we have to let the FBI know.”

“A lead?” He shook his head. “Forget that. I was rambling. This is all so stressful. I’m becoming paranoid about everything and everyone.” He glanced back at the door to the command past. “I’d better go. I want to make sure Star’s okay.”

He hurried away, leaving Aubrey with the same confused feeling she had at that soccer game when she’d gone running in the wrong direction, mixed up about who was on her team . . . and who wasn’t.