Stolen in the Night (25 page)

Chan dropped to his knees and began to grope for the gun beneath the car. Tess pulled
back her foot and kicked him as hard as she could with the toe of her boot. This blow
also caught him solidly, but it was cushioned by the thick coat, and he began to rise
to his feet, his eyes wild, growling like a wounded bear. She knew she would not be
able to fight him. He would overpower her easily. And if he wanted his gun, he could
simply drive the car a few feet forward and uncover it. She had to prevent that. Tess
only had a moment to think as he turned and came toward her. She reached inside over
the driver’s seat, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and pulled them free. She straightened
up, raised her arm, and threw them, as far as she could, into the pond that bordered
the road.

“Erny, run!” Tess cried.

Erny reached up, opened the car door on his side, tumbled out, and took off.

With a roar, Chan grabbed for Tess. Tess avoided his grasp, but fell to the ground
on her knees. Chan lunged at her but Tess scrambled to her feet. And then, as much
as every instinct told her to follow her child, her poor shivering child who was racing
up the driveway toward the road, her brain reminded her that Chan could not chase
two of them at once. And she was the greater threat. Tess turned and sprinted as fast
as she could in the opposite direction, back toward the Mercedes that was idling in
the drive. If she could only get inside the running car and lock him out…The gleaming,
black car stood ready to save her. The prize that would go to the swiftest. She rushed
toward it, but he was right behind her.

She heard his oaths in her ear and felt his hands clamp down on her from behind, jerking
her backward. She saw his fist out of the corner of her eye. She tried and failed
to avoid the blow that fell on the side of her head. Dimly, as Tess crumpled to the
ground, she raised her hands against a rain of blows.

C
han secured her hands with duct tape he had in the trunk of the Mercedes. Then he
pushed her into the front seat of his car and slammed the door.

He came around to the driver’s side and got in. “I’ll find him. He won’t get far,”
he muttered.

Tess did not reply. She was regaining her senses, although she ached all over from
being struck. He pulled up beside Kelli’s car and reached beneath the driver’s seat
of the Mercedes. He pulled out a long-handled ice scraper and turned off the engine
before he got out of the Mercedes. Locking her inside the car, Chan went over to Kelli’s
Honda and flattened himself out on the ground. He stuck the ice scraper beneath the
car and managed to fish out the gun that she had kicked under the chassis. When he
had retrieved it, Chan stood up and held the gun high where Tess could see it.

Tess turned her face away. She lowered her eyes so that he would not have the pleasure
of waving it in front of her. He was going to track down Erny and then…She felt overwhelmed
by the hopelessness of her situation. Think, she thought. Don’t give up. Think. As
she looked frantically around her, her gaze fell on a pamphlet, obviously wadded up
and tossed into the console between the passenger seat and the driver. She could see
the word “SHARE” in big red letters. Beneath the acronym logo, the group’s name was
spelled out: Stone Hill Abuse and Rape Emergency. Suddenly, Tess understood. She thought
of the bruised woman huddled in the chair by the dying fire. Afraid to stay, incapable
of leaving on her own. Sally’s bruises had not all been the result of accidents or
her medical condition. She had been the victim of her husband’s anger. Sally had finally
called for help, and then, at the last moment, she had panicked and sent that help
away. And now she lay dead in that house. Tess felt tears prick her eyelids, for Sally,
for herself, for Erny. And then she reminded herself—it was not too late for Erny.

Chan popped the locks, opened the driver’s-side door, and got back into the car. He
jammed the gun into his inside jacket pocket and turned on the engine. “All right.
Now, I’ll find that kid.”

“My car is right there in the middle of your driveway,” said Tess, feeling some satisfaction
that she had left such a huge, immovable clue.

“I can hot-wire it,” he said. “Once I get rid of the two of you. First I have to find
your…stupid kid.”

“He’s a good boy,” said Tess, trying to keep her voice from wobbling. “None of this
is his fault. How can you even think about hurting a child?” And then, she realized
what a foolish question she was asking. This was the person who had killed her sister.
It had to be. And even though her heart was thudding with fear, she needed to make
him confirm it. “What am I saying? You killed Phoebe, didn’t you?”

Chan did not reply.

Tess felt the old fury bubble up in her chest. “Why, Chan, why? What possessed you?”
she said.

Chan was driving at a snail’s pace, peering into the trees like a hunter. Watching
for any sign of movement that would betray Erny’s whereabouts.

Tess was frantic to distract him, engage him. “What I can’t imagine,” she said, “is
how you and Lazarus Abbott ever became partners in crime. You, the golden boy, the
heir to the Whitman farm, getting involved with a disgusting pervert whom everyone
made fun of…what were you thinking?”

“Oh right,” said Chan, scanning both sides of the road with narrowed eyes. “Your theory.
That Lazarus had a partner.”

Tess stared at him. “Don’t try to pretend you weren’t involved,” she said.

“We were never partners.”

“But you killed my sister,” Tess said.

Chan put his foot on the brake and yanked the gearshift into park. “I can’t see anything
from here. I’m going to look for him on foot. You stay here.”

“No,” Tess protested. “Please, Chan. Answer me. Can’t you tell me that much? I have
to know.”

Chan studied her for a moment and he seemed to be weighing his response.

“Please. Tell me what happened. For twenty years it has tortured me.”

“I’m sure you two will be together soon,” he said with a soulless smile. “You can
ask her yourself.”

Tess knew what he was threatening. She didn’t care. She wanted Erny to get away. And
she wanted an answer. “Please,” she whispered.

He frowned and then he sighed. “Lazarus did abduct her. You were right about that.
He took her, and he stashed her in that shed where you found Erny. As I was coming
home from the dance that night, I saw him putting her in there.”

Picturing Phoebe, terrified and helpless, Tess felt the horror of it afresh. “I don’t
understand. You saw him do that. And you didn’t try to save her…”

“Who said I didn’t try to save her?” Chan countered.

Taken aback, Tess stared at him.

“At first, I didn’t know what was going on,” Chan said. “So after he left, I went
in. The minute I walked into the shed she started begging. Begging and crying. Pleading
with me not to hurt her. To let her go.”

“So you killed her…?” Tess cried. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “You went
in to help her and ended up killing her?”

“I had my reasons,” he said.

“What reasons? Because a terrified girl pleaded with you to help her? Or was it the
fact that she was at your mercy and you could rape her? Was that it? Was it the sex?
A bondage fantasy that just got out of hand?”

Chan raised his hand and smacked her face with his open palm. Tess felt her teeth
rattle in her head.

“That’s not it. I’m not a pervert like Lazarus,” said Chan.

“How did Nelson know it was you?” she said. “The DNA proved that it was a relative
of Nelson’s and you’re not…”

Tess gazed at Chan’s cruel, handsome face and felt the same nagging sense of something
forgotten that she had felt earlier in the day. And then she remembered when she had
felt it. It was when she had invaded Rusty Bosworth’s rented condo and saw the plaque
of the fish—and the accompanying photo. And then, suddenly, she began to see. She
understood, at least, why Nelson Abbott was killed. She understood what he had really
told Chan when he learned the DNA results. When he visited Chan at the newspaper.

“What are you looking at?” said Chan. “Stop staring at me.”

Tess nodded. She had to be right. The nagging sense of something forgotten, of some
connection hidden in her mind, fell away when she thought of it. “You look just like
him,” Tess said. “When he was young.”

Chan glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your father.”

“Richard Morris and I did not look anything alike,” said Chan through gritted teeth.
“Now shut up. We’re wasting time. You’re going to be sorry.”

Tess felt oddly fearless despite his threats. She knew his secret. She could see it
in his eyes, which avoided meeting hers. “How long have you known that Nelson Abbott
was your father?” Tess asked. Tess could see that her question had broken his concentration,
was preventing him from resuming his search. She knew he would make her pay, but she
didn’t care. Every second that passed, Erny had a better chance of getting away. At
least one of them would escape.

“Shut your mouth. Who told you that?” Chan cried.

“Nobody told me. Earlier today I saw a picture of Nelson as a young man.”

Chan clenched the muscles in his jaw. “Oh, you’re suggesting that my mother slept
with the gardener?” he asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t think so.”

But it was all coming together in Tess’s mind. The resemblance in the photo. The treasured
valentine from M. to N. She needed to know for sure. “What was your mother’s name?”
she asked.

“My mother’s name? What business is that of yours?”

“What was her name?” Tess demanded.

“Meredith. Her name was Meredith. Are you happy now?”

“In the barn, I found a valentine. An old one, that your mother gave to Nelson long
ago.” Tess’s heart was thumping, but she could not afford to let him terrify her into
silence. For Erny’s sake, she had to keep him talking. She was bound up in tape and
otherwise helpless. It was all she could do. Besides, this man was Phoebe’s killer.
And she had to know the rest. “That was what Nelson came to tell you at the newspaper,
wasn’t it?” she persisted. “That he realized you had to be Phoebe’s killer because
of the DNA. It had to be you because he knew you were his son.”

“Shut up!” Chan shouted. He glared at her as if he could kill her with his bare hands.
“Just shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tess summoned all her courage and continued. “Nelson always believed that Lazarus
killed my sister. It never crossed his mind that it might be you. Until he learned
about the DNA results. He must have known all these years that you were his son.”

Chan snorted. “No. He says he always suspected. But he didn’t know it for sure.” Chan
fell silent but she could see him mentally reliving his last conversation with Nelson.
Finally, he sighed. “My nana threw her out when she found out my mother was pregnant.
Nana never knew that Nelson was the father.” Chan’s laugh was scornful. “She would
have fired him. Hell, she would have castrated him. Nana didn’t put up with much.”

“She never told you any of this?” Tess asked.

“My mother?” Chan snorted derisively and then stared, unseeing, through the windshield.
“No. She never told me about Nelson. She never told Nelson, either, but he always
suspected. But not me. Hell, I thought Richard Morris was my father until the day
of his funeral.”

“When was that?” Tess asked gingerly.

Chan shook his head. “When I was fourteen years old. My mother was furious at me that
day because I refused to wear a tie. She started screaming about how I had to pay
my respects to Richard for all he’d done for me. How he’d treated me like his own.”

Chan shook his head in amazement at the memory, even after all these years. “I was
stunned. I said to her, ‘What do you mean,
like
his own?’

“‘Oh, you were two years old when I married him,’ she told me. ‘I was all alone in
the world,’ she said. ‘Your grandmother put me out of the house and cut off all funds
’cause I was pregnant and planned to quit college and have the baby. I had to take
work as a clerk in a department store. Not many men with a house and a good job like
Richard’s would have taken on a woman with a two-year-old,’ she said.”

Chan sighed and shook his head, as if he had fallen into a funk. Then he turned and
looked at Tess in amazement. “When I thought about what my life had been…I couldn’t
speak for a while. Finally, I said to her, ‘What about my real father?’

“She said he was married. That he didn’t even know about me. Besides, she said, ‘You
didn’t need him. You had Richard.’

“That’s when I…lost it. My whole life I had gone along with it…suffered. And then
to find out…”

To her amazement, Tess saw something glistening in Chan’s eyes. He sighed several
times and then he shook his head, as if to shake off the memory. “So I said to her,
‘Did you know that Richard was a pervert? That Richard made me do sex acts with him
ever since I was little?’”

Tess grimaced at the sight of the outrage in his eyes. She felt a genuine pity for
him. “Is that true?”

“Of course it’s true!” he cried. “And you know what my mother said? She looked at
me and said, ‘Don’t talk like that about Rich. He always took good care of us and
now I don’t know what I’m going to do.’ That’s exactly what she said. ‘He took good
care of us.’” Chan’s eyes were furious. “Luckily, she got cancer and died about six
months later.”

“God,” said Tess. “That is a terrible story.”

“It’s not a story,” said Chan. “It’s my life.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Chan drew himself up. “All right. That’s enough. Where’s that fucking roll of duct
tape?” He got out of the car and began to rummage through the backseat. “I’ll shut
you up once and for all.”

Tess turned her head and looked out the car window at the trees and the smoky autumn
sky. She thought about all the misery that had brought them to this point. Chan, once
a victim, had created victims of his own. All that stifled anger, erupting into violence.
It was as sad as it was horrifying. Gazing through the open car window, knowing that
Chan was about to come back and muzzle her, Tess suddenly saw a movement in the woods,
beyond the lake. Her heart stopped for a moment as she tried to make it out and then,
when it moved again, she recognized what she was seeing. Erny. He was crouched by
the dark trunk of a flame-colored tree and he was looking at her. Their eyes met and
his frightened gaze locked onto hers. Tess stifled a gasp and then she assumed an
expression so stern it was almost a glare. She jerked her chin up as if to indicate
the direction of the road and mouthed the words “run—go.” Erny, crouched in the grass,
read her lips with wide eyes.

He didn’t understand, Tess thought with a sinking heart. He’s hovering there, waiting
for me to get free. At this rate we’ll both be killed. And then, in the midst of her
despair, she saw him lift his hand and point in the direction of the road. He jabbed
his finger twice toward the front gates and then pointed to his own chest.

A wave of relief passed through her. Tess closed her eyes for a moment and gave thanks.
Then she opened her eyes wide, held his gaze, and nodded her head sharply. Erny hesitated
a moment, and then he disappeared behind the tree.

In the next moment, Tess heard a ripping sound. The passenger door opened, obstructing
her view, and Chan Morris leaned in and plastered a large rectangle of silver duct
tape over her mouth. Tess tried to gasp, but couldn’t. She closed her eyes and prayed
for Erny to keep running.