The China Doll (19 page)

"Yes."

Doctor Wolfe scribbled again. "I see. And why
do you believe him?"

"My father bragged about screwing my aunt’s
gay lover. Alex used that information to blackmail my aunt into
marrying my uncle. So my uncle’s father would give him a lot of
money." Jessie stuck her chin out for emphasis, but Doctor Wolfe
didn’t move. "I don’t know why you would admit any of that was true
unless it was, because it makes you sound really bad. Especially to
Miranda."

"Miss Harel was upset?"

"I’m not sure she’ll ever speak to him again.
So maybe some good came of this after all."

"How do you feel about all of this? About
your father?"

"I’m glad he’s dead," she seethed. "He hurt
my mother, my aunt—he even pushed my cousin around—I’m glad he’s
gone."

Doctor Wolfe smiled sympathetically. "And how
do you feel about the way you were born, if you accept what was
said?"

Jessie waited for almost a minute before she
spoke. "I don’t understand why my mother didn’t have an abortion,"
she said at last. "If someone raped me, beat me, and I got
pregnant, I wouldn’t keep it. I’d get it out of me as soon as I
could."

"So why do you think your mother kept
you?"

"Maybe she thought I could be proof of what
he did to her," she said hopefully. "Maybe she was going to do
something like get him put in prison."

"Is that what you think?"

"No," she said bitterly. "I think she kept me
because she was stupid. Maybe she was religious, but I don’t
remember anything about that. So she was just stupid."

"Maybe she loved you," Doctor Wolfe said
quietly.

"I wasn’t worth loving," Jessie said quietly.
Her eyes filled with tears. "I kept her with him. He must have—he
must have threatened her. He must have threatened me. That’s why
she married him. She thought she was giving me a better life, or
she was just afraid. And it was stupid. If she’d just gotten away,
she wouldn’t have gotten killed. She’d be alive right now."

"Jessie," Doctor Wolfe said gently. "How do
you know what would have happened? How do you know someone else
wouldn’t have stabbed her later?"

"Because I just do," Jessie said, as if she
were looking into the distance. "She’d be alive if it weren’t for
him."

Doctor Wolfe took a deep breath. "Do you
remember something?"

She nodded after a moment. "A lot of
blood."

"I see." He wrote something else down.
"Jessie, I think we should talk about what else you remember."

Zainab was working the morning shift that
day. The pharmacy was unusually busy. She didn’t even notice Robert
in line until his turn came.

She sighed. "This isn’t a good time. We’re a
little busy right now. Maybe I could meet you when my shift is
over."

"This is part of an active police
investigation," he said sternly. "I would really appreciate it if
you could step aside for a few minutes."

Zainab pulled her supervisor aside. Robert
flashed his badge, and the supervisor nodded her head. Zainab came
around the counter. "Would you like to talk in the back room?"

"There is actually a little diner right
around the corner. This might take a little while."

"Fine."

Once at the diner, Robert ordered coffee and
eggs. Zainab shook her head, but sipped the water when it arrived.
"What can I do for you, Detective?"

"Call me Robert."

"Robert, what can I do for you?"

He stabbed at his egg. "I understand you left
Mister Hendrickson’s house?"

"I did," Zainab said evenly.

Robert nodded. "And where are you staying
now?"

"I’m not sure how that’s pertinent to your
investigation."

"You had direct access to the victim. It’s
good to know your whereabouts while we’re still looking for the
perp."

"I’m sorry, am I suspect?"

"Not exactly, but like I said, it’s just good
to know where you are."

"I see," Zainab said before she took another
sip of water. "If that’s the case, then I think I need to get a
lawyer before I answer any questions. One you don’t have any dirt
on."

Robert looked at her. She didn’t show any
emotion. He smiled. "You caught me. I’d just like to make sure that
you’re alright."

"Is your conscience bothering you?"

"Not at all. At the very least, you deserved
to know that your boyfriend was cheating on you."

"Are you expecting a thank you?"

"No. But I...regret that you were dragged
into that. I wasn’t trying to ruin your life."

"You didn’t. For the official record, I’m
staying with Emily Graham. And since I’m sure you’re going to ask
if you haven’t already had him followed yet, Mitch is staying with
his friend Martin."

"I actually did know that."

"Was that all?"

"No. I also wanted to know...how Jessie is
doing."

"You are not entitled to ask or know."

"Did I mention the murder investigation?"

"Did I mention the guilty conscience?"

Robert sat back. "Pretend you’re right.
Knowing that she was okay still wouldn’t exonerate me, would
it?"

"She’s fine. Or she will be. She has a lot of
people who love her."

"I’m glad to hear it."

"Did your boss get any calls yesterday?"

"No."

"Well-played."

"I don’t feel any guilt about Alex Sheldon or
Lucy Hendrickson. They ruin people’s lives without a second
thought."

"How does that feel exactly?"

"I thought you said I didn’t ruin your
life."

"You didn’t. And you didn’t ruin Jessie’s
either. But Helen Graham might be a different story. You know who
that is, right? Two days ago she had two parents living under the
same roof. Maybe neither of them is perfect, but they love her. And
they loved each other."

"Is it my fault Mitchell Graham cheats over
email?"

"Of course not. But that has nothing to do
with Jessie’s stalker or her parents’ killers. You just wanted your
ass covered. Same thing with Richard—you know he didn’t do anything
to his cousin or his aunt."

"Why are you still defending him?"

"Because he’s a good man."

"I think he’s a fool."

Zainab didn’t blink. She sipped her water
again. "Alright, then. So are you going to tell me, or are we going
to play more games first?"

"Tell you what?"

"Where is Drew Sharpe?" She took a deep
breath. "And where is Joe Welles?"

He sat up and traced the line of his coffee
cup. "You and Emily don’t have anything to worry about."

"Where is Drew?"

"Mister Sharpe is currently sitting in jail
for distribution and trafficking in New Jersey. He went there last
year, and he was caught within a few weeks. Very amateur. Very easy
to catch, and easy to turn."

"How long?"

"With behavior and consideration, I’d say
five years at least."

Zainab nodded. "Thank you. Emily will be
pleased."

"Do you want to know about Mister
Welles?"

"If you say I don’t have to worry, that’s all
I need to know."

He tightened his jaw. "Why didn’t you report
that?"

"Because I didn’t have any proof."

"So why did he leave?"

Zainab shook her head. "I’m sorry, but I
really will need a lawyer before I answer that."

"Which tells me at least that you’re
protecting someone."

"Why didn’t you do this two nights ago?"

"It wasn’t anyone’s business."

"Neither, really, was Lucy’s affair with
Joanna Hazlett."

He shrugged. "You’re not like them," he said
quietly. "You don’t try to hurt people."

"And Emily?"

"I don’t think I like her very much, but I
appreciate that she’s a good friend." He inhaled. "I have a pretty
good idea of what happened three and a half years ago. Looks like
she went to the mat, no matter the cost." He smiled a little. "But
you’re different, aren’t you?"

"Are you going to leave Emily—and
Miranda—alone?"

"Unless I find evidence that either of them
is sending the notes to Jessie."

"I can pretty much guarantee that they
aren’t. That lullaby isn’t really their style." Zainab looked at
her watch. "I’m sorry, but I really do have to go."

Robert stood up and threw some cash on the
table. "I’ll walk you back."

Alex met Miranda at seven that night at the
Wang Center. He’d been nervous about seeing her, but he forgot all
of that as soon as he saw her walk in. He shared Emily’s
assessment. She looked like a goddess. Her hair was up and she was
wearing a red column sheath with v-neck straps and a matching
shawl.

She blushed when he looked at her. "Hello
Alex."

He took her hand and kissed it, not taking
his eyes off of her. "You look even more beautiful than you usually
do."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"I was so happy that you agreed to come out
with me after...everything."

"We still need to talk about that."

"Of course. I’ll tell you anything you
want."

She nodded. "Good. After the play."

He smiled. Tonight he was, once more, a man
who could not believe his luck. "Should we go upstairs to the
reception?" he asked. "We have a little while before we need to be
seated."

"Sounds lovely," she said. She took his hand
and ascended the stairs with him. She felt as if her cheeks were
prickling. She rubbed them, but the feeling didn’t go away. She
rubbed her lower lip and looked around. At the top of the other set
of stairs was Michael Abbot.

She stopped in her tracks. Alex looked in the
same direction. Michael waved to the both of them, and now Miranda
noticed that he was with a pretty, full-figured blonde.

"I guess Detective Teague was thorough," Alex
said quietly. "We don’t have to stay."

Miranda wiped her hands on her dress. "I
really want to see this play," she said as she resumed her
climb.

Miranda’s eyes met his when they landed.
"Hello, Michael," she said simply. "I had no idea you liked
musicals."

He looked her up and down as if he were
sipping her from a straw. "I guess I’ve expanded my musical tastes
in the last few months."

"Hello Michael," Alex said. "And I had no
idea you were back in town."

Michael smiled. "Getting careless in your old
age?"

Miranda turned to Michael’s date and stuck
out her hand. "I’m sorry, I’m Miranda Harel. And you are?"

"Where are my manners?" Michael asked as the
two women shook hands. "This is Hayley Barr. She’s studying at
BU."

Miranda smiled. "Oh, how nice. And what are
you studying?"

"History," the young woman said.

"I was a history major, too."

"Oh really? When did you graduate?"

Miranda smiled ruefully. "I’m afraid I didn’t
quite get around to that."

"Hayley, I think Miranda’s done you a
disservice," Michael said, not taking his eyes off of Miranda.
"It’s Miranda Harel Abbot. We used to be married."

"Oh," Hayley said uncomfortably. "I’m sorry—I
had no idea."

"Don’t be sorry," Miranda said. She looked at
Michael. "It was an amicable separation."

"If you say so," Michael said.

"And this is Alex Sheldon." The two shook
hands. Miranda turned to Michael. "Good to see you, but I’m afraid
we need to get to our seats now." She turned to his date. "And it
was nice to meet you too, Hayley."

Miranda walked away. Alex caught up to her.
"I had no idea he would be here," he said apologetically. Miranda’s
cheeks burned. She knew Michael was still looking at her.

They went to their box seats and chatted
about the play bill. Alex went to get Miranda a drink. When he
returned, he sighed. "Are you sure you still want to stay?"

"Yes," she said sipping her drink. "Why do
you ask?"

"Because he’s sitting right across from us."
Miranda looked up. Michael, smiling, waved to her from across the
theater. Miranda weakly raised her glass, then turned away.

"Yes, I’m sure I want to stay."

A few minutes later, the theater lights went
down. Alex took Miranda’s hand. "Thank you again for coming with
me."

Miranda squeezed back. "Thank you for
bringing me."

The music swelled. The lights came back on.
Miranda smiled. This was one of her favorite plays of all. There
was Arthur, known as Wart, pulling Excalibur out of the stone. She
closed her eyes, never so happy to see him prevail.

Then Arthur and Guinevere, separately
questioning marriage. She forced herself not to look at Alex or
Michael. She chuckled a bit at the idyllic world Arthur described
for his would-be bride. If only.

But then there was Merlin. Just once. And
there was the beautiful Nimue, luring Merlin from reality. She
closed her eyes, remembering lying in Michael’s bed, Michael’s arms
that first week. Then in New York City. The day they got their
rings, the day he filled the living room with flowers. Kissing him
then, yesterday, forever. Tears streamed down her face, even when
handsome Lancelot arrived.

She looked at Michael. He was gripping the
side of his seat as he stared at her. She forced herself to watch
the rest of Act One and not move at all.

The lights came on after Lancelot left for
adventure in foreign lands. Alex took Miranda’s hand again. "Is
everything alright?"

"Of course," she said, kissing him on the
cheek. "But you’ll excuse me for a moment."

There was already a line when she got out.
Ten minutes later, she was in her stall. She wept just a little bit
more, then came out and fixed her makeup.

Michael was waiting outside when she came
out. Her chest heaved. He wet his lips. She wished he wouldn’t do
that. "I didn’t see Hayley in there," she said
matter-of-factly.

"She’s in our box," he said quietly. He moved
closer. She felt like his eyes were reaching out and touching her.
"I’m glad you like the play. I hoped you would."