Table for five (9 page)

Saturday
12:45 a.m.

“W
hat exactly is an APB, anyway?” Jane Coombs asked Lily. She spoke without looking up from the screen of her cell phone. She’d been staring at it as though willing Derek to call.

“It stands for all points bulletin,” Lily said. “It means each law enforcement agency within a prescribed radius receives a broadcast of the alert.”

“And they’re not going to do that for us,” Jane said, a quaver in her voice.

“Not until they’ve been missing twenty-four hours. That seems to be the magic number.” She felt like quavering, too. She hated the icy knot of worry in her gut.

Other than the sound of the shower running upstairs for Cameron, the house was eerily, uncomfortably quiet. Soon after Jane’s arrival, the police had left, promising that if Crystal and Derek didn’t return by four o’clock tomorrow, they
would initiate the mysterious business of conducting a missing-persons search. Until then, there was nothing to do but wait. And worry.

Sean had been like a caged lion, prowling through the house. Finally, he’d emptied the coffeepot into a thermos and gone off on his own to search.

“I can think better when I’m driving around,” he’d said. Then he left her with his cell phone number and took off.

He hadn’t asked Lily if she was willing to stay and look after the kids. She was, of course, but it would have been decent of him to check with her. Tonight, however, she perfectly understood his preoccupation. She wasn’t herself, either. Peculiar and possibly terrible things were happening. People couldn’t be expected to behave in normal ways.

Sullen with ill-concealed anxiety, Cameron had announced that he was going to have a shower. The water had been running for twenty-five minutes.

And Lily found herself strangely alone with Derek Holloway’s girlfriend. She tried to hold in her resentment. Jane hardly looked like the human wrecking ball Crystal had described. According to Crystal, Lily ought to be wearing a rope of garlic around her neck when Jane was anywhere in the vicinity.

She didn’t resemble a typical “other woman,” if there even was such a thing. Certainly she was no golf bimbo, all legs and no brains. In fact, this woman had a Ph.D. She was young and seemed oddly fragile, undone by Derek’s disappearance. But that didn’t mean Lily had to like her.

“I’m going to make more tea,” Lily said. “Would you like some?”

“I’m a coffee drinker,” Jane replied. “I’ll take coffee, please.”

It took Lily a moment to realize the wrecking ball was
watching her expectantly. She turned around, feeling the edge of the counter pressing into the small of her back. “Just so you know,” she said quietly, “I’m on my last nerve.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “I’m the one suffering here. My fiancé is missing with his ex-wife.”

The word
fiancé
drilled into Lily. She glanced at the doorway to the kitchen, hoping Cameron hadn’t overheard. Reassuringly, the shower was still running.

“Crystal didn’t know Derek was planning to marry you.” Lily felt ill. “When was he going to tell her?”

“Today, as a matter of fact. Derek and I are going to tell the kids together next Friday. We have a nice dinner planned at the country club.”

Lily had the urge to slam the teakettle on the burner. She set it down with exaggerated care and turned the fire up high. She stared at the flames, seeing the translucent blue of Sean Maguire’s eyes. Then she scolded herself. What was she doing, thinking about Sean Maguire? Crystal was in for the shock of her life. Her ex-husband and the father of her children, once the grand passion of her life, had chosen another wife.

Ah, Crystal, thought Lily. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

She had the urge to turn on Jane, unleashing a barrage of bitter thoughts. Did Jane expect congratulations from Crystal’s best friend? She’d be waiting a long time. Lily shut her eyes for a moment.

You’re marrying Derek? she wanted to ask. Brave of you. Don’t you know he fools around? Oh, but of course you know that. He was cheating with you when he was married to Crystal. Once he’s married to you, who will he fool around with?

It would be best, she decided, to let go of the subject. Apparently Jane thought so, too. She checked her cell phone for messages and helped herself to a cup of herbal tea from the pot Lily fixed.

“According to the label on the box,” Lily said, “we’re supposed to feel gently soothed and relaxed.”

“Yeah?” Jane took a sip and grimaced. “It’s not working. I wonder if there’s any Diet Coke.”

“I doubt it. Crystal drinks Tab.”

“I didn’t even know they made Tab anymore.” Jane opened the fridge and found a bright pink can, popping it open. “This is driving me out of my mind,” she said. “I should have gone out looking with Sean.”

“Do you really think he’s looking or just out driving around?”

“Not sure.” Jane took a swig of her soda.

For some reason, watching her drink Crystal’s Tab was deeply offensive to Lily. Cradling her mug between her hands, she sat down at the table and tried to concentrate on her breathing. She’d been studying yoga for years. She was supposed to know this. But all the lessons had flown out of her head.

“What do you think of Sean, anyway?” Jane asked.

“I don’t have any opinion of him,” Lily said. “I don’t know him.”

“He’s drop-dead gorgeous,” Jane said. “Even better-looking than Derek.”

“Then maybe you’re engaged to the wrong brother.”

“I’m
so
not his type.”

Apparently proper grammar and a Ph.D. were not mutually inclusive, thought Lily.

“Why not?” she asked, mainly just to keep from sustaining the conversation herself.

“Sean is eye candy. I’ll bet he’s fun in bed, but I don’t think there’s much more to him than that.”

“Like I said, I don’t know him.”

“Know who?” His hair slicked back and wearing his golf team warm-ups, Cameron returned to the kitchen.

Lily set down her mug. She had an overwhelming urge to grab Cameron and hug him the way she used to when he was tiny. He was practically grown, she thought, noting his large hands and feet, the freshly razored square jaw and piercing blue eyes. Yet despite his grown-up appearance, she still detected shadows of the child he’d been. She could still see his face shining with joy on his birthday or when Crystal brought a baby sister home from the hospital. She could still remember the little-boy smell of him, like freshly turned earth, and she could still hear his choirboy voice, singing along with Disney soundtracks.

Lily had celebrated birthdays with Cameron; she’d admired his lost teeth and perfect report cards. She’d helped him mourn and bury goldfish and pet mice, had taught him phonics, cursive writing and long division. She’d attended scouting ceremonies, soccer games and golf tournaments.

And now Jane Coombs was going to have all that. Lily tried not to feel resentful, but it was hard. She adored this boy and wanted only good things for him. Was Jane a good thing? She couldn’t imagine.

“Your uncle Sean,” she said in response to his question. “I don’t know him at all. What’s he like?”

“He’s okay.” Cameron went to the fridge and took out a gallon jug of milk. Before either Lily or Jane could suggest getting a glass, he’d upended it, impressively drinking without spilling a drop. When he lowered the jug, he looked at them both, his face stiff with worry. “I know what you’re trying to do. You want to distract me so I quit thinking about all the bad stuff that might have happened to my parents.”

“They had a lot to talk about,” Lily said carefully. “The time probably just got away from them.”

“Until one in the morning?” He put the cap on the milk carton and shoved it back into the fridge. “They didn’t even talk that much when they were married.”

Jane snatched up her raincoat. It was one of those stylish designer ones from Canada. According to Crystal, Jane’s fashion sense had improved dramatically since she’d started spending Derek’s money.

“You know what?” she said. “Sean is right. Sitting around here waiting for the phone to ring is nuts. I’m going home to check my answering machine.”

“All right,” said Lily, trying not to sound too eager to get rid of her.

“You have my home number and my cell.” Jane pulled on her coat and adjusted the Hermès scarf under the collar. “Call me the second you hear anything.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll do the same, tell you the minute he calls.” A peculiar brightness hovered in her eyes, the sparkle of tears.

All right, so maybe she did love Derek, Lily conceded, and offered a quick smile. “Drive carefully. The roads are still wet.”

Jane tugged her Louis Vuitton satchel over her shoulder and went out the front door. Lily stood on the porch for a moment. The night air was chilly and damp from the day’s rain, though now the sky was clear. Against perfect blackness, the stars stood out like shattered glass flung up in the air.

With a shiver, she stepped back inside and shut the door. Only then did it occur to her that the whole time she was here, Jane had never once asked about the girls. And upon leaving, she hadn’t even said goodbye to Cameron or offered him a word of comfort.

And this woman was going to be their new stepmother? The air pressure felt different after she left. Lily shivered again, then composed her face before turning to Cameron. “How are you doing?”

“How am I supposed to be doing?” His voice was edged by annoyance.

“You think I have the answer to that?” Then she caught herself. “Look, I’m sorry. The last thing we need is to fuss at each other.”

“Nobody says ‘fuss’ anymore.”

“I do. I’m a third-grade teacher, remember? I fuss at people all day.”

He almost smiled. Then he flung himself on the living room sofa, draping it with loose limbs. “This sucks,” he said.

She sat down next to him. “Yes,” she said, “it does suck.”

“It sucks hind tit,” he added.

“Yes, it sucks…what you said.” She bopped him on the head with a pillow.

He gave a small, desperate chuckle. “You’d never make a golfer. You’re too uncomfortable with the language.”

He picked up the remote and switched on Conan O’Brien. “I’m going to kill them as soon as they get home.”

“Good plan,” said Lily.

Saturday
4:45 a.m.

S
ean was thinking up ways to commit fratricide as he drove along the deserted, unlit roads of western Oregon. And ex-in-law-icide, too, whether or not it had a name. What were they thinking, ditching their kids like this?

They weren’t thinking of the kids, that was for sure. They were thinking of themselves. That was Derek’s specialty.

And it usually worked for him. By looking out for Number One, he had kept himself at the top of his game. He had never been a beloved player. He was no John Daly, no Craig Stadler. But he was definitely respected and admired. Respected for his ability to focus on winning and getting ahead, and admired for his sheer athletic talent.

Sean was one of the few who knew where that talent came from, and it wasn’t exactly a gift from heaven. It came from hitting a thousand balls in a single practice session. Or from
putting until your kidneys ached from bending. Or practicing chip shots and pitches until the club face wore out. Like the most successful players in the game, he knew better than to rely on luck and talent.

Ah, but those could take you far, Sean thought, reflecting on his own checkered career. He’d milked both luck and talent for all they were worth, but ultimately he’d walked away from the hard work involved. Now, of course, he was paying the price. But at least he hadn’t been taken to the cleaners in some screwed-up divorce.

Sean eased up on the gas pedal as he took a curve in the road. The headlights pierced through wisps of fog shrouding the low spots in the landscape. The phone call from Red about the upcoming tournament didn’t even seem real anymore. If it was real, Sean would be home asleep right now. He’d get up early and practice, thinking of nothing but his game. Now the opportunity was as far from his mind as an unremembered dream.

He picked up the thermos and lifted it to his lips. There was only one swallow of coffee left, and it was cold. The clock in the dashboard read 4:58. He blinked, and the rectangular blue-green numbers blurred, then came back into focus, changing to 4:59.

In the headlights, a huge shape flashed, inches from the front bumper.

Sean swerved, the truck nearly clipping the guardrail. The tires whined sideways on the wet pavement as he dialed the steering wheel with both hands. The motion spun him in a complete one-eighty-degree turn, and he didn’t stop. Like a carnival bumper car, the truck spun out, careening toward the rail again, slinging him close enough to see its rotted-out posts. Below the edge of the roadway, the rocky cliff formed a sheer drop into the sea.

He braced himself against the dash, his feet now pumping
the brakes. He heard the sound of breaking glass and gritted his teeth, expecting a bone-crushing impact. Seconds later, he realized it was the thermos being flung to the floor with hurricane force, the glass lining shattering on impact.

The truck groaned to a stop, shuddering like an exhausted animal.

Very slowly, he turned his head and looked out the side window, half expecting to find himself hanging off a cliff.

He wasn’t hanging. The left side of the truck hugged the guardrail.

In the rearview mirror, bathed in the red glow of brake lights, a full-grown buck paused, then loped up the bank beside the road and disappeared.

“Damn,” Sean said, breathing hard. He was bathed in sweat, yet his skin felt cold. The clock in the console read five o’clock.

Since he was already stopped, he decided to check in with Maura.

She answered in a sleepy voice. “I’m not on call.”

“I’m not the hospital.”

“Sean.” A rustle of bedclothes. “Where are you?”

“Derek still hasn’t shown up so I’ve been driving around looking for him and trying to figure out where he is.”

“You are not your brother’s keeper.”

“No. I got stuck with his kids, though.”

“You left them alone?”

“Lily’s with them.”

“Lily.”

“The schoolmarm. Charlie’s teacher.”

“Nobody says schoolmarm anymore.”

“You would if you saw Lily.” Sean wiped his brow with his sleeve. “This has me pretty damned worried.”

“He’s a grown man, Sean.” A yawn elongated her words.

“He took off with his ex-wife yesterday afternoon and they haven’t been seen since.”

“Of course they haven’t. They’re sneaking around and don’t want to be seen. Come home, Sean. I have to go to Portland for a seminar, and I want to see you before I leave.”

He pictured the rumpled bed, her sleep-warm body in her favorite oversize surgical scrubs, her soft hair in disarray.

“I can’t say when I’ll be back,” he said.

“Oh, well. You do what you have to do, I guess.” Another yawn. “Sorry. I had a hellacious shift. Two MIs and an MVA.”

He was quiet, trying to work out the abbreviations. She was in the midst of an emergency-ward rotation and often spoke in jargon.

“Two heart attacks and a multiple-vehicle accident,” she translated for him.

He winced, thinking of Derek. “I better go. I just thought…I’d check in.”

“Wish you were here.” She sighed into the phone.

He thought about the way her hair smelled. “Yeah, me, too. Anyway, I guess I’m going to head over to Crystal’s again. Maybe they’re back.”

“Come home.”

“No. Meet me there.”

“I’m not going to show up at your ex-sister-in-law’s house. I have to go to Portland. I can’t get out of it. Listen, keep me posted, okay?”

“You got it.” He set down the phone and rubbed his damp palms on his thighs. So that had accomplished next to nothing, except to interrupt the sleep of his already sleep-deprived girlfriend.

Funny how she had turned into his girlfriend, literally overnight. When they’d first met in a Portland club, he’d been looking to avoid one more lonely night. It was only the next
morning, facing the glare of a rare spring sunrise through the unadorned windows of his apartment, that he’d discovered he wanted more from her.

She was beautiful and smart, a fourth-year medical student with lonely eyes and a low-key, undemanding charm.

He told her so right away, while making her breakfast that morning. He’d felt different around her. She brought out his serious side. For a guy who had once referred to his girlfriend as the nineteenth hole, this was a leap of maturity. “I wish I’d had better manners around you before we slept together,” he’d told her.

He’d set a plate of eggs in front of her, leaning down to place a soft, sincere kiss on her lips. People thought he was lucky with women. Hell,
he
thought he was lucky with women, but the fact was, he’d never gotten past the lust and excitement to see what lay on the other side. Every once in a while, he wondered about that. “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other,” he’d said to Maura that first morning, “we should do it again.”

He tried to smile at the memory, but he was too tired and worried. And, uninvited, an image of Lily Robinson, thin-lipped and scowling, pushed into his mind. He’d ditched her with the kids and Jane, and she hadn’t even complained. She seemed like an interesting person. Yes, that was the word for her. Interesting, with a lot of unspoken thoughts behind brown eyes made bigger by thick eyeglass lenses. Her compassion for the kids was unmistakable, but that wasn’t what made her so interesting. She was uptight and judgmental, yet he sensed something in her, a peculiar heat she kept trying to snuff out.

Slowly, he pulled back onto the empty road. The headlights illuminated a set of skid marks snaking across both lanes. That was the closest he’d ever come to hitting something, except for the time in college when Derek had driven
him out to the coast to hit drives off the scenic overlook. Sean recalled that darkness had fallen on the way home and a raccoon had crossed their path. Derek had creamed it. He’d pulled over and wept.

With that thought, Sean felt his hands turn wet again. What was up with that?

He hadn’t thought about the coast road in years, hadn’t been out here since moving back to the States. But maybe…

Sean drove west. He didn’t question the terrible feeling that sent him there. He didn’t even trust that he could find the spot once again. It had been years since he and Derek used to bring girls here, hoping they’d get lucky.

He had no idea why Derek would bring Crystal to the overlook. Maybe it was like Maura had said on the phone. Maybe Derek and his ex-wife really were sneaking around together.

That was, after all, his brother’s specialty.

Sean veered away from the thought. He was in no position to judge Derek.

He tried not to think the worst when he turned onto the coast road and noticed tire marks around the sharp hairpin turns. Everybody had trouble navigating this road, he told himself.

Derek drove the latest model with all the latest features. A major sponsor had just given him the SUV and he knew better than to wreck it.

The adulation, gifts and money heaped upon Derek boggled the mind. And Derek, of course, worked hard for those things, which made him such a good prospect for sponsors. Sean often lay awake at night, battling a poisonous envy. He often had to remind himself that Derek had earned everything that had come his way.

He and Derek had both had the same shot at the moon. In fact, there was a time when Sean had been strongly favored
over his brother for a stellar career in the PGA. He’d been the one with the early career high, the revved-up sports agent, the sponsors clamoring, the ranking on the PGA money list.

It hadn’t lasted, of course. Sean didn’t know how to make things last.

The truck fishtailed a little around a sharp, steeply downward bend in the road. The headlights streamed over the outside edge of the curve, and the guardrail disappeared. It was just starting to get light outside. Sean looked around. He vaguely remembered some sort of property-and-easement dispute that ended right there, at a sharp curve in the road, where the angry black slash of tire tracks arrowed straight at a pair of broken madrona trees.

Sean killed the truck’s ignition. For a moment, perhaps the space of three heartbeats, he sat in utter silence. Then he switched off everything else—all the feelings of fear and panic—as he entered the numbers of Derek’s cell phone, pushing the buttons one by one with special care.

When it started to ring, he stepped down from the truck, slammed the door and stood in the predawn quiet, hearing nothing but the shush of the waves far below and…the distant ringing of a cell phone.

He was like an automaton, crossing the road to the opposite shoulder. His footsteps sounded like a robot’s, perfectly even, brisk but unhurried as they crunched in the roadside gravel. When Derek’s voice mail kicked on, Sean ended the call, paused and redialed. The ringing started again, louder now, closer.

He was a machine. Nothing could penetrate his iron shell. He had a flashlight in his hands. He knew he’d need it.

He felt nothing. He couldn’t let himself. Because even before he climbed down the steep, sheared-off bank, toward the sound of the ringing phone, he knew what he would find.

He stumbled, fell, held on to thorny vines snaking down the slope, cursed and eventually made his way down through the wild blackberries and red-boned madrona trees growing out of the side of the cliff. He paused again to redial, then followed the sound of the ringing. A thorny branch raked like talons across his face. He felt something trickle down his cheek and swiped at it. His hand came away dark with blood.

He was breathing hard, wheezing as he slipped and slid his way down. Early daylight crept over him. Dawn was breaking, though the deepest of shadows still haunted the primordial folds of the ravine. The flashlight’s beam flickered off something that didn’t belong there—the dull, intestinal undercarriage of the upside-down SUV.

A chink opened in Sean’s self-imposed armor and a white-hot arrow of pain shot in, startling him with its intensity.

No.
The roar of denial erupted through him, but he made no sound as he approached the vehicle. The flashlight shook uncontrollably as he shone it toward Derek’s truck.

No.
He wrestled the flashlight into submission and forced himself to hold it steady. What kind of chickenshit brother was he, shaking like a girl when he knew damned well his brother was—

No.
He plunged to his knees beside the window. It had broken into a zillion shatterproof pieces, and then had somehow been ripped out of the windshield. It took him a moment to realize the truck was teetering, and there was still plenty of distance yet to fall.

Jesus. Oh, Jesus. Someone had once taught him how to pray, but that had been a long time ago. It was too late for that, anyhow. He knew it in his bones.

The beam of light was steady and unwavering as Sean forced himself to ignore the precarious creak of the teetering truck. From deep within the vehicle, a cell phone beeped, sig
naling a message waiting. He found a gap where the window had been and shone the light inside.

Live, goddamn it. Be alive, please.

He found Crystal. Though she lay at an impossible angle, her beauty queen face was a perfect mask. She looked like a statue of a renaissance angel. Even her eyes were a statue’s eyes, open, unblinking and blank. There was no expression on her face. He forced himself to say her name, to gently touch her, to check for breathing and a pulse. Nothing. Judging by the eerie chill of her smooth skin, she had been gone for a while.

Sean had seen his mother dead, but this was different. Painful as it had been, his mother was supposed to be dead. After suffering for a year with her illness, everyone had expected it, and she’d been laid out for viewing, a decent Irish Catholic to the end. There was nothing remotely decent about this, he realized, his thoughts tumbling over one another.

Derek. Where was Derek?

A lash of panic whipped through Sean. He called his brother’s name, his voice echoing through the ravine, into the dawn silence. It seemed weird and horrible to be yelling while Crystal lay there, but he called again, startling a pair of birds skyward. Maybe Derek had been thrown from the truck, or maybe he’d survived and gone to look for help.