The Boy from the Woods (Harlan Coben)

Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,orpersons,livingordead,iscoincidental.Copyright?2020byHarlanCobenCoverdesignbyJayaMiceliCovercopyright?2020byHachetteBookGroup,Inc.HachetteBookGroupsupportstherighttofreeexpressionandthevalueofcopyright.Thepurposeofcopyrightistoencouragewritersandartiststoproducethecreativeworksthatenrichourculture.Thescanning,uploading,anddistributionofthisbookwithoutpermissionisatheftoftheauthor’sintellectualproperty.Ifyouwouldlikepermissiontousematerialfromthebook(otherthanforreviewpurposes),pleasecontactpermissions@hbgusa.com.Thankyouforyoursupportoftheauthor’srights.GrandCentralPublishingHachetteBookGroup1290AvenueoftheAmericas,NewYork,NY10104grandcentralpublishing.comtwitter.com/grandcentralpubFirstEdition:March2020GrandCentralPublishingisadivisionofHachetteBookGroup,Inc.TheGrandCentralPublishingnameandlogoisatrademarkofHachetteBookGroup,Inc.Thepublisherisnotresponsibleforwebsites(ortheircontent)thatarenotownedbythepublisher.TheHachetteSpeakersBureauprovidesawiderangeofauthorsforspeakingevents.Tofindoutmore,gotowww.hachettespeakersbureau.comorcall(866)376-6591.LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataNames:Coben,Harlan,author.Title:Theboyfromthewoods/HarlanCoben.Description:Firstedition.|NewYork:GrandCentralPublishing,2020.Identifiers:LCCN2019041849|ISBN9781538748145(hardcover)|ISBN9781538702734|ISBN9781538748169(ebook)Subjects:GSAFD:Suspensefiction.|Mysteryfiction.Classification:LCCPS3553.O225B692020|DDC813/.54—dc23LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2019041849ISBN:978-1-5387-4814-5(hardcover),978-1-5387-0227-7(signededition),978-1-5387-0273-4(largeprint),978-1-5387-0299-4(specialsignededition),978-1-5387-4816-9(ebook),978-1-5387-5135-0(internationaltrade)E3-20200128-DA-PC-ORIContents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
PartOne
CHAPTERONE
CHAPTERTWO
CHAPTERTHREE
CHAPTERFOUR
CHAPTERFIVE
CHAPTERSIX
CHAPTERSEVEN
CHAPTEREIGHT
CHAPTERNINE
CHAPTERTEN
CHAPTERELEVEN
PartTwo
CHAPTERTWELVE
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
CHAPTERNINETEEN
CHAPTERTWENTY
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
CHAPTERTHIRTY
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
PartThree
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
CHAPTERFORTY
DiscoverMore
AbouttheAuthor
AlsobyHarlanCoben
ToBenSevierEditorandfriendTwelvebooksandcountingExplorebookgiveaways,sneakpeeks,deals,andmore.
Tapheretolearnmore
FromtheNorthJerseyGazette
April18,1986
ABANDONED“WILDBOY”FOUNDINTHEWOODS
HugeMysterySurroundingDiscoveryof“Real-LifeMowgli”
WESTVILLE,N.J.—Inoneofthemostbizarrecasesinrecenthistory,awild-hairedyoungboy,estimatedtobebetweensixandeightyearsold,wasdiscoveredlivingonhisownintheRamapoMountainStateForestnearthesuburbofWestville.Evenmorebizarre,authoritieshavenoideawhotheboyisorhowlonghehadbeenthere.“It’slikeMowgliinthe‘JungleBook’movie,”WestvillePoliceDeputyOrenCarmichaelsaid.Theboy—whospeaksandunderstandsEnglishbuthasnoknowledgeofhisname—wasfirstspottedbyDonandLeslieKatz,hikersfromClifton,N.J.“Wewerecleaningupfromourpicnicwhenweheardarustlinginthewoods,”Mr.Katzsaid.“AtfirstIworrieditwasabear,butthenwecaughtsightofhimrunning,clearasday.”Parkrangers,alongwithlocalpolice,foundtheboy,thinandcladintatteredclothes,inamakeshiftcampsitethreehourslater.“Atthistime,wedon’tknowhowlonghe’sbeeninthestateforestorhowhegothere,”saidNewJerseyStateParkPoliceChiefTonyAurigemma.“Hedoesn’trecallanyparentsoradultfigures.We’recurrentlycheckingwithotherlawenforcementauthorities,butsofar,therearenomissingchildrenwhomatchhisageanddescription.”Forthepastyear,hikersintheRamapoMountainareahavereportedseeinga“feralboy”or“LittleTarzan”matchingtheboy’sdescription,butmostpeoplechalkedupthesightingstourbanlegend.SaidJamesMignone,ahikerfromMorristown,N.J.,“It’slikesomeonejustbirthedhimandlefthiminthewild.”“It’sthestrangestsurvivalcaseanyofushaveeverseen,”ChiefAurigemmasaid.“Wedon’tknowiftheboyhasbeenoutheredays,weeks,monthsorheck,evenyears.”Ifanyonehasanyinformationontheyoungboy,theyareaskedtocontacttheWestvillePoliceDepartment.“Someoneouttherehastoknowsomething,”DeputyCarmichaelsaid.“Theboydidn’tjustappearintheforestbymagic.”PARTONE
CHAPTERONE
April23,2020
Howdoesshesurvive?
Howdoesshemanagetogetthroughthistormenteverysingleday?
Dayafterday.Weekafterweek.Yearafteryear.
Shesitsintheschoolassemblyhall,hereyesfixed,unseeing,unblinking.Herfaceisstone,amask.Shedoesn’tlookleftorright.Shedoesn’tmoveatall
Shejuststaresstraightahead.
Sheissurroundedbyclassmates,includingMatthew,butshedoesn’tlookatanyofthem.Shedoesn’ttalktoanyofthemeither,thoughthatdoesn’tstopthemfromtalkingtoher.Theboys—Ryan,Crash(yes,that’shisrealname),Trevor,Carter—keepcallinghernames,harshlywhisperingawfulthings,jeeringather,laughingwithscorn.Theythrowthingsather.Paperclips.Rubberbands.Flicksnotfromtheirnoses.Theyputsmallpiecesofpaperintheirmouths,wadthepaperintowetballs,propeltheminvariouswaysather.
Whenthepaperstickstoherhair,theylaughsomemore.
Thegirl—hernameisNaomi—doesn’tmove.Shedoesn’ttrytopullthewadsofpaperoutofherhair.Shejuststaresstraightahead.Hereyesaredry.Matthewcouldrememberatime,twoorthreeyearsago,whenhereyeswouldmoistenduringtheseceaseless,unrelenting,dailytaunts.
Butnotanymore.
Matthewwatches.Hedoesnothing.
Theteachers,numbtothisbynow,barelynotice.Onewearilycallsout,“Okay,Crash,that’senough,”butneitherCrashnoranyoftheothersgivethewarningtheslightestheed.
MeanwhileNaomijusttakesit.
Matthewshoulddosomethingtostopthebullying.Buthedoesn’t.Notanymore.Hetriedonce.
Itdidnotendwell.
MatthewtriestorememberwhenitallstartedtogowrongforNaomi.Shehadbeenahappykidinelementaryschool.Alwayssmiling,that’swhatheremembered.Yeah,herclotheswerehand-me-downsandshedidn’twashherhairenough.Someofthegirlsmademildfunofherforthat.ButithadbeenokayuntilthatdayshegotviolentlyillandthrewupinMrs.Walsh’sclass,fourthgrade,justprojectilevomitricochetingofftheclassroomlinoleum,thewetbrownchipssplashingonKimRogersandTaylorRussell,thesmellsobad,sorancid,thatMrs.Walshhadtocleartheclassroom,allthekids,Matthewoneofthem,andsendthemallouttothekickballfieldholdingtheirnosesandmakingpee-uwsounds.
Andafterthat,nothinghadbeenthesameforNaomi.
Matthewalwayswonderedaboutthat.Hadshenotfeltwellthatmorning?Didherfather—hermomwasalreadyoutofthepicturebythen—makehergotoschool?IfNaomihadjuststayedhomethatday,woulditallhavegonedifferentlyforher?Washerthrowing-upherslidingdoormoment,orwasitinevitablethatshewouldenduptravelingdownthisrough,dark,torturouspath?
Anotherspitballsticksinherhair.Morename-calling.Morecrueljeers.
Naomisitsthereandwaitsforittoend.
Endfornow,atleast.Fortodaymaybe.Shehastoknowthatitwon’tendforgood.Nottoday.Nottomorrow.Thetormentneverstopsforverylong.Itisherconstantcompanion.
Howdoesshesurvive?
Somedays,liketoday,Matthewreallypaysattentionandwantstodosomething.
Mostdays,hedoesn’t.Thebullyingstillhappensonthosedays,ofcourse,butitissofrequent,socustomary,itbecomesbackgroundnoise.Matthewhadlearnedanawfultruth:Yougrowimmunetocruelty.Itbecomesthenorm.Youacceptit.Youmoveon.
HasNaomijustacceptedittoo?Hasshegrownimmunetoit?
Matthewdoesn’tknow.Butshe’sthere,everyday,sittinginthelastrowinclass,thefirstrowatassembly,atacornertableallaloneinthecafeteria.
Untiloneday—aweekafterthisassembly—she’snotthere.
Oneday,Naomivanishes.
AndMatthewneedstoknowwhy.
CHAPTERTWO
Thehipsterpunditsaid,“Thisguyshouldbeinprison,noquestionsasked.”
Onlivetelevision,HesterCrimsteinwasabouttocounterpunchwhenshespottedwhatlookedlikehergrandsoninherperipheralvision.Itwashardtoseethroughthestudiolights,butitsureashelllookedlikeMatthew.
“Whoa,strongwords,”saidtheshow’shost,aonce-cuteprepsterwhosemaindebatetechniquewastofreezeabaffledexpressiononhisface,asthoughhisguestswereidiotsnomatterhowmuchsensetheymade.“Anyresponse,Hester?”
Matthew’sappearance—ithadtobehim—hadthrownher.
“Hester?”
Notagoodtimetoletthemindwander,sheremindedherself.Focus.
“You’regross,”Hestersaid.
“Pardon?”
“Youheardme.”SheaimedhernotoriouswitheringgazeatHipsterPundit.“Gross.”
WhyisMatthewhere?
Hergrandsonhadnevercometoherworkunannouncedbefore—nottoheroffice,nottoacourtroom,andnottothestudio.
“Caretoelaborate?”PrepsterHostasked.
“Sure,”Hestersaid.ThefieryglarestayedonHipsterPundit.“YouhateAmerica.”
“What?”
“Seriously,”Hestercontinued,throwingherhandsupintheair,“whyshouldwehaveacourtsystematall?Whoneedsit?Wehavepublicopinion,don’twe?Notrial,nojury,nojudge—lettheTwittermobdecide.”
HipsterPunditsatupalittlestraighter.“That’snotwhatIsaid.”
“It’sexactlywhatyousaid.”
“There’sevidence,Hester.Averyclearvideo.”
“Ooo,avideo.”Shewiggledherfingersasthoughsheweretalkingaboutaghost.“Soagain:Noneedforajudgeorjury.Let’sjusthaveyou,asbenevolentleaderoftheTwittermob—”
“I’mnot—”
“Hush,I’mtalking.Oh,I’msorry,Iforgetyourname.IkeepcallingyouHipsterPunditinmyhead,socanIjustcallyouChad?”Heopenedhismouth,butHesterpushedon.“Great.Tellme,Chad,what’safittingpunishmentformyclient,doyouthink?Imean,sinceyou’regoingtopronounceguiltorinnocence,whynotalsodothesentencingforus?”
“Myname”—hepushedhishipsterglassesuphisnose—“isRick.Andweallsawthevideo.Yourclientpunchedamanintheface.”
“Thanksforthatanalysis.Youknowwhatwouldbehelpful,Chad?”
“It’sRick.”
“Rick,Chad,whatever.Whatwouldbehelpful,superhelpfulreally,wouldbeifyouandyourmobjustmadeallthedecisionsforus.Thinkofthetimewe’dsave.Wejustpostavideoonsocialmediaanddeclareguiltorinnocencefromthereplies.Thumbs-uporthumbs-down.There’dbenoneedforwitnessesortestimonyorevidence.JustJudgeRickChadhere.”
HipsterPundit’sfacewasturningred.“Weallsawwhatyourrichclientdidtothatpoorman.”
PrepsterHoststeppedin:“Beforewecontinue,let’sshowthevideoagainforthosejusttuningin.”
Hesterwasabouttoprotest,butthey’dalreadyshownthevideocountlesstimes,wouldshowitcountlessmoretimes,andhervoicinganyoppositionwouldbebothineffectiveandonlymakeherclient,awell-to-dofinancialconsultantnamedSimonGreene,appearevenmoreguilty.
Moreimportant,HestercouldusethefewsecondswiththecameraoffhertocheckonMatthew.
Theviralvideo—fourmillionviewsandcounting—hadbeenrecordedonatourist’siPhoneinCentralPark.Onthescreen,Hester’sclientSimonGreene,wearingaperfectlytailoredsuitwithaperfectlyWindsoredHermèstie,cockedhisfistandsmasheditintothefaceofathreadbare,disheveledyoungmanwho,Hesterknew,wasadrugaddictnamedAaronCorval.
BloodgushedfromCorval’snose.
TheimagewasirresistiblyDickensian—Mr.RichPrivilegedGuy,completelyunprovoked,sucker-punchesPoorStreetUrchin.
HesterquicklycranedhernecktowardMatthewandtried,throughthehazeofthestudiospotlights,tomeethiseye.Shewasafrequentlegalexpertoncablenews,andtwonightsaweek,“fameddefenseattorney”HesterCrimsteinhadherownsegmentonthisverynetworkcalledCrimsteinonCrime,thoughhernamewasnotpronouncedCrime-Rhymes-with-Prime-Stine,butratherKrim-Rhymes-with-Prim-Steen,butthealliterationwasstillconsidered“televisionfriendly”andthetitlelookedgoodonthebottomscroll,sothenetworkranwithit.
Hergrandsonstoodintheshadows.HestercouldseethatMatthewwaswringinghishands,justlikehisfatherusedtodo,andshefeltapangsodeepinherchestthatforamomentshecouldn’tbreathe.SheconsideredquicklycrossingtheroomandaskingMatthewwhyhewashere,butthepunchvideowasalreadyoverandHipsterRickChadwasfoamingatthemouth.
“See?”Spittleflewoutofhismouthandfoundahomeinhisbeard.“It’sclearasday.Yourrichclientattackedahomelessmanfornoreason.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatwentonbeforethattaperolled.”
“Itmakesnodifference.”
“Sureitdoes.That’swhywehaveasystemofjustice,sothatvigilanteslikeyoudon’tirresponsiblycallformobviolenceagainstaninnocentman.”
“Whoa,noonesaidanythingaboutmobviolence.”
“Sureyoudid.Ownitalready.Youwantmyclient,afatherofthreewithnorecord,inprisonrightnow.Notrial,nothing.Comeon,RickChad,letyourinnerfascistout.”Hesterbangedthedesk,startlingPrepsterHost,andbegantochant:“Lockhimup,lockhimup.”
“Cutthatout!”
“Lockhimup!”
Thechantwasgettingtohim,hisfaceturningscarlet.“That’snotwhatImeantatall.You’reintentionallyexaggerating.”
“Lockhimup!”
“Stopthat.Nooneissayingthat.”
Hesterhadsomethingofagiftformimicry.Sheoftenuseditinthecourtroomtosubtlyifnotimmaturelyundermineaprosecutor.DoingherbestimpressionofRickChad,sherepeatedhisearlierwordsverbatim:“Thisguyshouldbeinprison,noquestionsasked.”
“Thatwillbeuptoacourtoflaw,”HipsterRickChadsaid,“butmaybeifamanactslikethis,ifhepunchespeopleinthefaceinbroaddaylight,hedeservestobecanceledandlosehisjob.”
“Why?BecauseyouandDeplorable-Dental-HygienistandNail-Da-Ladies-69onTwittersayso?Youdon’tknowthesituation.Youdon’tevenknowifthetapeisreal.”
PrepsterHostarchedaneyebrowoverthatone.“Areyousayingthevideoisfake?”
“Couldbe,sure.Look,Ihadanotherclient.Someonephotoshoppedhersmilingfacenexttoadeadgiraffeandsaidshewasthehunterwhokilledit.Anex-husbanddidthatforrevenge.Canyouimaginethehateandbullyingshereceived?”
Thestorywasn’ttrue—Hesterhadmadeitup—butitcouldbetrue,andsometimesthatwasenough.
“WhereisyourclientSimonGreenerightnow?”HipsterRickChadasked.
“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”
“He’shome,right?Outonbail?”
“He’saninnocentman,afineman,acaringman—”
“Andarichman.”
“Nowyouwanttogetridofourbailsystem?”
“Arichwhiteman.”
“Listen,RickChad,Iknowyou’reall‘woke’andstuff,whatwiththecoolbeardandthehipsterbeanie—isthataKangol?—butyouruseofraceandyoureasyanswersareasbadastheotherside’suseofraceandeasyanswers.”
“Wow,deflectingusing‘bothsides.’”
“No,sonny,that’snotbothsides,solistenup.Whatyoudon’tseeis,youandthoseyouhate?Youarequicklybecomingoneandthesame.”
“Reversethisaround,”RickChadsaid.“IfSimonGreenewaspoorandblackandAaronCorvalwasrichandwhite—”
“They’rebothwhite.Don’tmakethisaboutrace.”
“It’salwaysaboutrace,butfine.Iftheguyinragshittherichwhitemaninasuit,hewouldn’thaveHesterCrimsteindefendinghim.He’dbeinjailrightnow.”
Hmm,Hesterthought.ShehadtoadmitRickChadhadaprettygoodpointthere.
PrepsterHostsaid,“Hester?”
Timewasrunningoutinthesegment,soHesterthrewupherhandsandsaid,“IfRickChadisarguingI’magreatattorney,whoamItodisagree?”
Thatdrewlaughs.
“Andthat’sallthetimewehavefornow.Comingupnext,thelatestcontroversysurroundingupstartpresidentialcandidateRustyEggers.IsRustypragmaticorcruel?IshereallythemostdangerousmaninAmerica?Staywithus.”
Hesterpulledouttheearpieceandunclippedthemicrophone.TheywerealreadyheadedtocommercialbreakwhensheroseandcrossedtheroomtowardMatthew.Hewassotallnow,againlikehisfather,andanotherpangstruckhard.
Hestersaid,“Yourmother…?”
“She’sfine,”Matthewsaid.“Everyoneisokay.”
Hestercouldn’thelpit.Shethrewherarmsaroundtheprobablyembarrassedteen,wrappinghiminabearhug,thoughshewasbarelyfivetwoandhehadalmostafootonher.Moreandmoreshesawtheechoesofthefatherintheson.Matthewhadn’tlookedmuchlikeDavidwhenhewaslittle,whenhisfatherwasstillalive,butnowhedid—theposture,thewalk,thehandwringing,thecrinkleoftheforehead—anditallbrokeherheartanew.Itshouldn’t,ofcourse.Itshould,infact,offersomemeasureofcomfortforHester,seeingherdeadson’sechoinhisboy,likesomesmallpartofDavidsurvivedthecrashandstillliveson.Butinstead,theseghostlyglimmersripather,tearthewoundswideopen,evenafteralltheseyears,andHesterwonderedwhetherthepainwasworthit,whetheritwasbettertofeelthispainthanfeelnothing.Thequestionwasarhetoricalone,ofcourse.Shehadnochoiceandwouldwantitnootherway—feelingnothingorsomedaybeing“overit”wouldbetheworstbetrayalofall.
Sosheheldhergrandsonandsqueezedhereyesshut.Theteenpattedherback,almostasthoughhewerehumoringher.
“Nana?”
Thatwaswhathecalledher.Nana.“You’rereallyokay?”
“I’mfine.”
Matthew’sskinwasbrownerthanhisfather’s.Hismother,Laila,wasblack,whichmadeMatthewblacktooorapersonofcolororbiracialorwhatever.Agewasnoexcuse,butHester,whowasinherseventiesbuttoldeveryoneshestoppedcountingatsixty-nine—goahead,makeajoke,she’dheardthemall—foundithardtokeeptrackoftheevolvingterminology.
“Where’syourmother?”Hesterasked.
“Atwork,Iguess.”
“What’sthematter?”Hesterasked.
“There’sthisgirlinschool,”Matthewsaid.
“Whatabouther?”
“She’smissing,Nana.Iwantyoutohelp.”
CHAPTERTHREE
HernameisNaomiPine,”Matthewsaid.
TheywereinthebackseatofHester’sCadillacEscalade.Matthewhadtakenthehour-longtrainrideinfromWestville,changingattheFrankLautenbergStationinSecaucus,butHesterfiguredthatitwouldbeeasierandsmartertodrivehimbacktoWestville.Shehadn’tbeenouttovisitinamonth,muchtoolong,andsoshecouldbothhelpherdistraughtgrandsonwithhisproblemandspendsometimewithhimandhismom,killingtheallegoricaltwobirdswithonestone,whichwasareallyviolentandweirdimagewhenyoustoppedandthoughtaboutit.Youthrowastoneandkilltwobirds—andthisisagoodthing?
Lookatme,throwingastoneatabeautifulbird.Why?Whywouldapersondosuchathing?Idon’tknow.IguessI’mapsychopath,andwhoa—Ihittwobirdssomehow!Yay!Twodeadbirds!
“Nana?”
“ThisNaomi,”Hestersaid,pushingthesillyinnerrantaway.“She’syourfriend?”
Matthewshruggedasonlyateenagercan.“I’veknownhersincewewere,like,six.”
Notadirectanswer,butshe’dallowit.
“Howlonghasshebeenmissing?”
“For,like,aweek.”
Like,six.Like,aweek.ItdroveHestercrazy—the“likes,”the“you-knows”—butnowwashardlythetime.
“Didyoutrytocallher?”
“Idon’tknowherphonenumber.”
“Arethepolicelookingforher?”
Teenageshrug.
“Didyoutalktoherparents?”
“Sheliveswithherdad.”
“Didyouspeaktoherdad?”
Hemadeafaceasthoughthatwasthemostridiculousthingimaginable.
“Sohowdoyouknowshe’snotsick?Orawayonvacationorsomething?”
Noreply.
“Whatmakesyouthinkshe’smissing?”
Matthewjuststaredoutthewindow.Tim,Hester’slongtimedriver,veeredtheEscaladeoffRoute17andintotheheartofWestville,NewJersey,lessthanthirtymilesfromManhattan.TheRamapoMountains,whichareactuallypartoftheAppalachiansineveryway,roseintoview.Thememories,astheyhaveahabitofdoing,swarmedinandstung.
SomeoneoncetoldHesterthatmemorieshurt,thegoodonesmostofall.Asshegotolder,Hesterrealizedjusthowtruethatwas.
Hesterandherlatehusband,Ira—gonenowsevenyears—hadraisedthreeboysinthe“mountainsuburb”(that’swhattheycalledit)ofWestville,NewJersey.Theiroldestson,Jeffrey,wasnowaDDSinLosAngelesandonhisfourthwife,arealestateagentnamedSandy.SandywasthefirstofJeffrey’swiveswhohadn’tbeenaninappropriatelyyoungerdentalhygienistinhisoffice.Progress,Hesterhoped.Theirmiddleson,Eric,likehisfatherbeforehim,workedinthenebulousworldoffinance—Hestercouldneverunderstandwhateitherman,herhusbandorson,actuallydid,somethingwithmovingpilesofmoneyfromAtoBtofacilitateC.Ericandhiswife,Stacey,hadthreeboys,agedtwoyearsapart,justasHesterandIrahaddone.ThefamilyhadrecentlymoveddowntoRaleigh,NorthCarolina,whichseemedalltheragenowadays.
Theiryoungestson—andtruthbetold,Hester’sfavorite—hadbeenMatthew’sfather,David.
HesteraskedMatthew,“Whattimewillyourmombehome?”
Hismother,Laila,likegrandmotherHester,workedatamajorlawfirm,thoughshespecializedinfamilylaw.She’dstartedhercareerasHester’sassociateduringsummerswhileattendingColumbiaLawSchool.ThatwashowLailahadfirstmetHester’sson.
LailaandDavidhadfalleninloveprettymuchrightaway.They’dgottenmarried.TheyhadasonnamedMatthew.
“Idon’tknow,”Matthewsaid.“Wantmetotexther?”
“Sure.”
“Nana?”
“What,hon?”
“Don’ttellMomaboutthis.”
“About…?”
“AboutNaomi.”
“Whynot?”
“Justdon’t,okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Stopit,”Hestersaidwithalittlesnapthatheneededhertosaythis.Then,moregently:“Ipromise.Ofcourse,Ipromise.”
MatthewfiddledwithhisphoneasTimmadethefamiliarrightturn,thenleft,thentwomorerights.Theywereonastorybookcul-de-saccalledDowningLanenow.Upaheadwasthegrandlog-cabin-stylehomeHesterandIrahadbuiltforty-twoyearsago.ItwasthehomewheresheandIraraisedJeffrey,Eric,andDavid,andthen,fifteenyearsago,withtheirsonsgrown,HesterandIradecidedthatitwastimetoleaveWestville.They’dlovedtheirhomeinthefoothillsoftheRamapoMountains,IramorethanHesterbecause,Godhelpher,IrawasanoutdoorsmanwholovedhikingandfishingandallthosethingsthatmennamedIraCrimsteinwerenotsupposedtolike.Butithadbeentheirtimetomoveon.TownslikeWestvillearemeantforraisingchildren.Yougetmarried,youmoveoutfromthecity,youhaveafewbabies,yougototheirsoccergamesanddancerecitals,yougetoverlyemotionalattheirgraduationsandcommencements,theygotocollege,theyvisitandsleepinlate,andthentheystopdoingeventhatandyou’realoneandreally,likeanylifecycle,it’stimetoputthisbehindyou,sellthehousetoanotheryoungcouplewhomoveoutfromthecitytohaveafewbabies,andstartanew.
TherewasnothingforyouintownslikeWestvillewhenyougotolder—andtherewasnothingwrongwiththat.
SoHesterandIradidindeedmoveon.TheyfoundanapartmentonRiversideDriveontheUpperWestSideofManhattanfacingtheHudsonRiver.Theylovedit.ForalmostthirtyyearstheyhadcommutedonthatsametrainMatthewhadtakentoday,changinginHobokenbackinthosedays,andnow,intheiradvancingyears,tobeabletowakeupandwalkorquicklysubwaytoworkwasheaven.
HesterandIrarelishedlivinginNewYorkCity.
AsfortheoldmountainhomeonDowningLane,theyendedupsellingittotheirsonDavidandhiswonderfulwife,Laila,who’djusthadtheirfirstchild—Matthew.HesterthoughtthatitmightbeoddforDavid,livinginthesamehousehe’dgrownupin,butheclaimedthatitwouldbetheperfectplacetostartandraiseafamilyofhisown.HeandLailadidanentirerenovation,puttingtheirownstamponthehouse,makingtheinterioralmostunrecognizabletoHesterandIraduringtheirvisitsouthere.
Matthewwasstillstaringdownathisphone.Shetouchedhisknee.Helookedup.
“Didyoudosomething?”sheasked.
“What?”
“WithNaomi.”
Heshookhishead.“Ididn’tdoanything.That’stheproblem.”
Timpulledtoastopinherolddrivewayatheroldhouse.Thememoriesdidn’tbotherswarminganymore—theyjustfull-onassaulted.Timputthecarinparkandturnedtolookather.Timhadbeenwithherfornearlytwodecades,sincehe’dfirstimmigratedfromtheBalkans.Soheknew.Hemethereye.Shegavehimtheslightestofnodstolethimknowthatshe’dbeokay.
MatthewhadalreadythankedTimandgottenout.Hesterreachedforthedoorhandle,butTimstoppedherwithathroatclear.HesterrolledhereyesandwaitedwhileTim,abigslabofaman,rolledhiswayoutofhisseatintoastandingpositionandopenedthedoorforher.Itwasacompletelyunnecessarygesture,butTimfeltinsultedwhenHesteropenedthedooronherown,andreally,shefoughtenoughbattleseveryday,thankyouverymuch.
“Notsurehowlongwe’llbe,”shesaidtoTim.
Hisaccentremainedthick.“I’llbehere.”
Matthewhadopenedthefrontdoorofthehouseandleftitajar.HestersharedonemorelookwithTimbeforewalkingupthecobblestonepath—thesameonesheandIrainstalledthemselvesoveraweekendthirty-threeyearsago—andheadinginsidethehome.Sheclosedthedoorbehindher.
“Matthew?”
“Inthekitchen.”
Shemovedtothebackofthehouse.ThedoorofthehugeSub-Zerorefrigerator—thathadn’tbeenthereinherday—wasopen,andagainsheflashedbacktoMatthew’sfatheratthatage,toallherboysduringtheirhighschoolyears:Jeffrey,Eric,andDavid,alwayswiththeirheadsintherefrigerator.Therewereneverenoughgroceriesinthehouse.Theyateliketrashcompactorswithfeet.Ifsheboughtfood,itwasgonethenextday.
“Youhungry,Nana?”
“No,I’mgood.”
“Yousure?”
“I’msure.Tellmewhat’sgoingon,Matthew.”
Hisheadcameintoview.“DoyoumindifIjustmakealittlesnackfirst?”
“I’lltakeyououttodinner,ifyouwant.”
“Igottoomuchhomework.”
“Suityourself.”
HesterwanderedintothedenwiththeTV.Shesmelledburntwood.Someonehadrecentlyusedthefireplace.Thatwasstrange.Ormaybeitwasn’t.Shecheckedoutthecoffeetable.
Itwasneat.Tooneat,shethought.
Magazinesstacked.Coastersstacked.Everythinginitsproperplace.
Hesterfrowned.
WithMatthewbusyeatinghissandwich,shetiptoeduptothesecondlevel.Thiswasnoneofherbusiness,ofcourse.Davidhadbeendeadfortenyears.Lailadeservedtobehappy.Hestermeantnoharm,butshealsocouldn’thelpherself.
Sheenteredthemasterbedroom.
David,sheknew,hadsleptonthefarsideofthebed,Lailabythedoor.Theking-sizedbedwasmade.Immaculately.
Tooneat,shethoughtagain.
Alumpformedinherthroat.Shecrossedtheroomandcheckedthebathroom.Immaculatetoo.Stillnotabletostopherself,shecheckedthepillowonDavid’sside.
David’sside?Yoursonhasbeengonefortenyears,Hester.Leaveitbe.
Ittookafewseconds,buteventuallyshelocatedalight-brownhaironthepillow.
Alonglight-brownhair.
Leaveitbe,Hester.
Thebedroomwindowlookedontothebackyardandthemountainbeyond.Thelawnblurredintotheslopeandthenfadedawayintoafewtrees,thenmoretrees,thenafull-blownthickforest.Herboyshadplayedthere,ofcourse.IrahadhelpedthembuildatreehouseandfortsandLordknewwhat.Theymadesticksintogunsandknives.Theyplayedhide-and-seek.
Oneday,whenDavidwassixyearsoldandsupposedlyalone,Hesterhadoverheardhimtalkingtosomeoneinthosewoods.Whensheaskedhimaboutit,littleDavidtensedupandsaid,“Iwasjustplayingwithme.”
“ButIheardyoutalkingtosomeone.”
“Oh,”heryoungsonhadsaid,“thatwasmyinvisiblefriend.”
Ithadbeen,asfarasHesterknew,theonlylieDavidhadevertoldher.
Fromdownstairs,Hesterheardthefrontdooropen.
Matthew’svoice:“Hey,Mom.”
“Where’syourgrandmother?”
“Righthere,”hesaid.“Uh,Nana?”
“Coming!”
Feelingbothpanickedandlikeatotalidiot,Hesterquicklyslippedoutofthebedroomandintothehallwaybathroom.Sheclosedthedoor,flushedthetoilet,andevenranthewatertomakeitlookgood.Thensheheadedtowardthestairs.Lailawasatthebottom,staringupather.
“Hey,”Hestersaid.
“Hey.”
Lailawasgorgeous.Therewasnowayaroundit.Shedazzledinthefittedgraybusinesssuitthathuggedwhereitshould,whichinhercasewaseverywhere.Herblousewasavibrantwhite,especiallyagainstthedarknessofherskin.
“Youokay?”Lailaasked.
“Oh,sure.”
Hestermadeittherestofthewaydownthestairs.Thetwowomenhuggedbriefly
“Sowhatbringsyouout,Hester?”
Matthewcameintotheroom.“Nanawashelpingmewithaschoolreport.”
“Really?Onwhat?”
“Thelaw,”hesaid.
Lailamadeaface.“Andyoucouldn’taskme?”
“And,uh,alsobeingonTV,”Matthewaddedclumsily.Notagoodliar,Hesterthought.Again,likehisdad.“Uh,like,nooffense,Mom,beingafamouslawyer.”
“Thatafact?”
LailaturnedtoHester.Hestershrugged.
“Okaythen,”Lailasaid.
HesterflashedbacktoDavid’sfuneral.Lailahadstoodthere,holdinglittleMatthew’shand.Hereyesweredry.Shedidn’tcry.Notoncethatday.NotonceinfrontofHesteroranyoneelse.Laterthatnight,HesterandIratookMatthewoutforahamburgeratABG’sinAllendale.Hesterhadleftearlyandcomeback.Shewalkedintothebackyard,intotheopeninginthewoodswhereshe’dseenDaviddisappearcountlesstimestogoseeWilde,andevenfromthere,evenatthatdistancewiththenightwindhowling,shecouldhearthegutturalcriesofLailaaloneinherbedroom.Thecriesweresoraw,soripping,sopainedthatHesterthoughtthatmaybeLailawouldbreakinawaynoonecouldeverfix.
Lailahadnotremarried.Iftherewereothermeninthepasttenyears—andtherehadtohavebeenmany,manyoffers—shehadnottoldHesteraboutthem.
Butnow,therewasthistoo-neathouseandthislongbrownhair.
Leaveitbe,Hester.
Withoutwarning,HesterreachedoutwithbotharmsandpulledLailainclose.
Surprised,Lailasaid,“Hester?”
Leaveitbe.
“Iloveyou,”Hesterwhispered.
“Iloveyoutoo.”
Hestersqueezedhereyesshut.Shecouldn’tkeeptearsback.
“Areyouokay?”Lailaasked.
Hestergatheredherself,tookastepback,smoothedherclothes.“I’mfine.”Shereachedintoherpurseandgrabbedoutatissue.“Ijustget…”
Lailanodded.Hervoicewassoft.“Iknow.”
Fromoverhismother’sshoulder,HesterspottedMatthewshakinghishead,remindingherofwhatshe’dpromised.
Hestersaid,“Ibettergo.”
Shekissedthembothandhurriedoutthedoor.
Timwaswaitingforherwiththedooropen.Heworeablacksuitandchauffeurcaptoworkeveryday,whatevertheweatherorseason,eventhoughHestertoldhimhedidn’thavetoandneitherthesuitnorthecapeverseemedtofithimright.Itcouldbehisbulkyframe.Itcouldbethathecarriedagun.
Assheslidintothebackseat,Hesterturnedforonelastlookatthehouse.Matthewstoodinthedoorway.Helookedather.Ithitheryetagain:
Hergrandsonwasaskingforherhelp.
Hehadneverdonethatbefore.Hewasn’ttellingherthewholestory.Notyet.Butasshewallowedinherownpity,inherownmisery,inthisawfulholeinherownlife,sheremindedherselfthatitwasamuchbiggerandmoreawfulholeforMatthew,growingupwithoutafather,growingup,especially,withoutthatfather,withoutthatgoodandkindman,whohadbeenthebestofHesterandevenmoreIra—Ira,whodiedofaheartattack,shewasconvinced,becausehecouldnevergetovertheheartbreakoflosinghissoninthatcrash.
Timslidbackintothedriver’sseat.
“YouheardwhatMatthewsaid?”sheasked.
“Yes.”
“Whatdoyouthink?”
Timshrugged.“He’shidingsomething.”
Hesterdidnotreply.
“Sobacktothecity?”Timasked.
“Notyet,”Hestersaid.“Let’sstopattheWestvillepolicestationfirst.”
CHAPTERFOUR
Well,well,well,asIliveandbreathe.HesterCrimsteininmylittlestation.”
ShesatintheofficeofWestvillepolicechiefOrenCarmichael,who,nearingretirementatageseventy,remainedwhathe’dalwaysbeen—agrade-Aprimesliceoftop-shelfbeefcake.
“Nicetoseeyoutoo,Oren.”
“Youlookgood.”
“Sodoyou.”Grayhairworkedsowellonmen,Hesterthought.Damnunfair.“How’sCheryl?”
“Leftme,”hesaid.
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Cherylalwayshitmeasdumb.”
“Right?”
“Nooffense.”
“Nonetaken.”
“Shewasbeautiful,”Hesteradded.
“Yes.”
“Butdumb.Isthatinsensitive?”
“Cherylmightthinkso.”
“Idon’tcarewhatshethinks.”
“Meneither.”OrenCarmichael’ssmilestunned.“Thisback-and-forthisfun.”
“Isn’tit?”
“ButIsomehowdon’tthinkyou’rehereformymiddlingrepartee.”
“Icouldbe.”Hestersatback.“Whatdothekidscallitwhenyoudomorethanonethingatatime?”
“Multitasking.”
“Right.”Shecrossedherlegs.“Somaybethat’swhatI’mdoing.”
Hesterwouldsayshe’sasuckerforamaninauniform,butthatwassuchacliché.Still,OrenCarmichaellookedmightyfitinthatuniform.
“Doyourememberthelasttimeyouwerehere?”Orenasked.
Hestersmiled.“Jeffrey.”
“Hewasdroppingeggsoncarsfromtheoverpass.”
“Goodtimes,”Hestersaid.“WhydidyoucallIratopickJeffreyupinsteadofme?”
“Iradidn’tscareme.”
“AndIdid?”
“Ifyouwanttousethepasttense,sure.”OrenCarmichaeltiltedhischairback.“Doyouwanttotellmewhyyou’rehere,orshouldwekeepwiththebanter?”
“Thinkwe’llgetbetteratit?”
“Thebanter?Can’tgetworse.”
Thirty-fouryearsago,Orenhadbeenonthepossethatfoundtheyoungboyinthewoods.Everyone,includingHester,thoughtthatmysterywouldbesolvedquickly,butnooneeverclaimedWilde.Nooneeverfoundoutwholefthiminthewoodsorhowhe’dgottenthereinthefirstplace.NooneeverfiguredouthowlongthelittleboyhadlivedonhisownorhowWildehadsurvived.
Noone—still,afteralltheseyears—knowswhothehellWildereallyis.
ShedebatedaskingOrenaboutWilde,justtogetanupdateonhim,maybeusethatasawaytoeaseintotherest.
ButWildewasn’therbusinessanymore.
Shehadtoleavethatalone,soshedoveintotherealreasonshewashere.
“NaomiPine.Youknowwhosheis?”
OrenCarmichaelfoldedhishandsandrestedthemonthatflatstomach.“DoyouthinkIknoweveryhighschoolgirlinthistown?”
“Howdidyouknowshe’sahighschoolgirl?”Hesterasked.
“Can’tgetanythingpastyou.Let’ssayIknowher.”
Hesterwasn’tsurehowtoputit,butagainthedirectrouteseemedthebest.“Asourcetellsmeshe’smissing.”
“Asource?”
Okay,sonotsodirect.ByGod,Orenwashandsome.“Yes.”
“Hmm,isn’tyourgrandsonaboutNaomi’sage?”
“Let’spretendthat’sacoincidence.”
“He’sagoodkid,bytheway.Matthew,Imean.”
Shesaidnothing.
“Istillcoachthebasketballteam,”hecontinued.“Matthewishardworkingandscrappylike…”
HestoppedbeforehecouldsayDavid’sname.Neitherofthemmoved.Forafewmoments,thesilencesuckedsomethingoutoftheroom.
“Sorry,”Orensaid.
“Don’tbe.”
“ShouldIpretendagain?”heasked.
“No,”Hestersaidinasoftvoice.“Never.NotwhenitcomestoDavid.”
Oren,inhiscapacityaspolicechief,hadgonetothescenethenightofthecrash.
“Toansweryourquestion,”Orensaid,“no,Idon’tknowanythingaboutNaomibeingmissing.”
“Noonecalleditinoranything?”
“No,why?”
“She’sbeenoutofschoolforaweek.”
“So?”
“Socouldyoujustmakeacall?”
“You’reworried?”
“That’sputtingittoostrongly.Let’sjustsayacallwouldputmymindatease.”
Orenscratchedhischin.“IsthereanythingIshouldknow?”
“Otherthanmyphonenumber?”
“Hester.”
“No,nothing.I’mdoingthisasafavor.”
Orenfrowned.Then:“I’llmakesomecalls.”
“Great.”
Helookedather.Shelookedathim.
Orensaid,“Iguessyoudon’twantmetodothislaterandcallyouwiththeresults.”
“Why,areyoubusyrightnow?”
Hesighed.OrencalledNaomi’shousefirst.Noanswer.Thenhecalledtheschool’struantofficer.Thetruantofficerputhimonhold.Whentheofficercamebackontheline,shesaid,“Sofar,thestudent’sabsenceshavebeenverified.”
“Youspoketoaparent?”
“Notme,butsomeoneintheoffice.”
“Whatdidtheparentsay?”
“It’sjustmarkedasexcused.”
“Nothingelse?”
“Why?AreyourequestingthatItakearideoutthere?”
OrenlookedoverthephoneatHester.Hestershookherhead.
“No,I’mjustcheckingalltheboxes.Anythingelse?”
“Justthatthisgirlwillprobablyneedtoeitherrepeatthegradeordoextensivesummerschool.She’sbeenabsentalotthissemester.”
“Thankyou.”
Orenhungup.
“Thanks,”Hestersaid.
“Sure.”
Shethoughtaboutit.“IgethowyouknowMatthew,”shesaidslowly.“Fromme.FromDavid.Fromthebasketballteam.”
Hesaidnothing.
“AndIknowyou’reveryactiveinthecommunity,whichiscommendable.”
“Butyou’rewonderinghowIknowNaomi.”
“Yes.”
“Iprobablyshouldhavesaidwhyfromthestart.”
“I’mlistening.”
“RememberthemovieBreakfastClub?”heasked.
“No.”
Orenlookedsurprised.“Youneversawit?”
“No.”
“Really?Man,mykidshaditonallthetime,eventhoughitwasbeforetheirtime.”
“Isthereapoint?”
“DoyouremembertheactressAllySheedy?”
Shebitbackasigh.“No.”
“Notimportant.Inthemovie,AllySheedyplaysahighschooloutcastwhoremindsmeofNaomi.Inoneconfessionalscene,thecharacterletsdownherguardandsays,‘Myhomelifeisunsatisfying.’”
“Andthat’sNaomi?”
Orennodded.“Thiswouldn’tbethefirsttimeshe’srunaway.Herfather—andthisisconfidential—hasthreeDUIs.”
“Anysignsofabuse?”
“No,Idon’tthinkthat’sit.Morelikeneglect.Naomi’smotherwalkedout,Idon’tknow,five,tenyearsago.Hardtosay.Thedadworkslonghoursinthecity.Ithinkhe’sjustinoverhisheadraisingthegirlalone.”
“Okay,”Hestersaid.“Thanksfortellingme.”
“Letmewalkyouout.”
Whentheyreachedthedoor,theyturnedtoeachotherfull-on.Hesterfeltablushcometohercheeks.Ablush.Areyouevertooold?
“SodoyouwanttotellmewhatMatthewsaidtoyouaboutNaomi?”Orenasked.
“Nothing.”
“Please,Hester,let’spretendthatI’matrainedlawenforcementofficerwhohasbeenonthejobforfortyyears.Youcasuallystopbymyofficeandaskaboutatroubledgirlwhohappenstobeaclassmateofyourgrandson’s.ThedetectiveinmewonderswhyandconcludesthatMatthewmusthavesaidsomethingtoyou.”
Hesterwasgoingtodenyit,butthatwouldn’tdoanygood.“Offtherecord,yes,Matthewaskedmetolookintoit.”
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow.”
Hewaited.
“Ireallydon’t.”
“Okaythen.”
“Heseemsworriedabouther.”
“Worriedhow?”
“Again:Idon’tknow.Butifyoudon’tmind,I’mgoingtolookintoitalittle.”
Orenfrowned.“Lookintoithow?”
“IthinkI’llstopbyherhouse.Talktothefather.Thatokay?”
“WoulditmatterifIsaiditwasn’t?”
“No.Andno,Idon’tthinkthereisanythingtoit.”
“But?”
“ButMatthewhasneveraskedmeforanythingbefore.Doyouunderstand?”
“IthinkIdo,yes,”hesaid.“Andifyoulearnanythingwhilelookingintoit…”
“I’llcallyouimmediately,promise.”Hestertookoutherbusinesscardandhandedittohim.“That’smycellnumber.”
“Youwantmine?”
“Thatwon’tbenecessary.”
Hekepthiseyesonthecard.“Butdidn’tyoujustsayyou’dcallme?”
Shecouldfeelherheartbeatinginherchest.Agewasafunnything.Whenyourheartstartsbeatinglikethis,you’reinhighschoolalloveragain.
“Oren?”
“Yes?”
“Iknowwearesupposedtobeallmodernandwokeandallthat.”
“Right.”
“ButIstillthinktheguyshouldcallthegirl.”
Heheldupherbusinesscard.“Andbycoincidence,Inowhaveyourphonenumber.”
“Smallworld.”
“Takecare,Hester.”
***
“Justthebasics,”Timsaid,handingsheetsbacktoHester.“Morecomingsoon.”
TheystoredaprinterinthetrunkthathookeduptoalaptopTimkeptintheglovecompartment.SometimesHester’sparalegalsdownloadedinformationtoherphone,butHesterstillpreferredthetactilereadingexperienceofpaper.Shelikedtomakenoteswithapenorunderlineimportantphrases.
Oldschool.Orjustold.
“YouhavetheaddressforNaomiPine?”sheaskedhim.
“Ido.”
“Howfaraway?”
TimlookedattheGPS.“Two-point-sixmiles,sixminutes.”
“Let’sgo.”
SheskimmedthenotesasTimdrove.NaomiPine,sixteenyearsold.Parentsdivorced.Father,Bernard.Mother,Pia.Fatherhadsolecustody,whichwasinterestinginandofitself.Infact,Motherhadgivenupallparentalclaims.Unusual,toputitmildly.
Thehousewasoldandworn.Thepainthadatonetimebeenwhite,butitwasmoreacream-to-brownnow.Everywindowwasblockedbyeitherathickshadeorcrackedshutter.
“Whatdoyouthink?”HesteraskedTim.
Timmadeaface.“Lookslikeasafehousefromtheoldcountry.Ormaybesomeplacetotorturedissidents.”
“Waithere.”
AredAudiA6inmintcondition,probablyworthmorethanthehouse,satinthedriveway.Asshegotclosertothedoor,HestercouldseethatthehousehadatonepointbeenagrandVictorian.Therewasawraparoundporchanddetailedalbeitworncrownmolding.Thehousehadbeen,shebet,whattheyusedtocallaPaintedLady,thoughthepaintwasscantandwhateverfemininecharmsshehadoncepossessedhadlonggonetoseed.
Hesterknockedonthedoor.Nothing.Sheknockedsomemore.
Aman’svoicesaid,“Justleavewhateveratthedoor.”
“Mr.Pine?”
“I’mbusyrightnow.IfIhavetosignforit—”
“Mr.Pine,I’mnothereforadelivery.”
“Whoareyou?”
Hisvoicehadalittleslurinit.Hehadstillnotopenedthedoor.
“MynameisHesterCrimstein.”
“Who?”
“Hester—”
Thedoorfinallyopened.
“Mr.Pine?”
“HowdoIknowyou?”heasked.
“Youdon’t.”
“Yeah,Ido.You’reonTVorsomething.”
“Right.MynameisHesterCrimstein.”
“Whoa.”BernardPinesnappedhisfingersandpointedather.“You’rethatcriminallawyerthat’salwaysonthenews,right?”
“Right.”
“Iknewit.”Hestartledbackhalfastep,nowwary.“Wait,whatdoyouwantwithme?”
“I’mhereaboutyourdaughter.”
Hiseyeswidenedabit.
“Naomi,”Hesteradded.
“Iknowmydaughter’sname,”hehalfsnapped.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“She’sbeenabsentfromschool.”
“So?Areyouatruantofficer?”
“No.”
“Sowhatdoesmydaughterhavetodowithyou?Whatdoyouwantfromme?”
Helookedthepartofthemanwho’djustcomehomefromahardday’swork.Hisfive-o’clockshadowwasclosertosevenoreightp.m.Hiseyeswererimmedwithred.Hissuitjacketwasoff,thecuffsofhissleevesrolledup,thetieloosened.Hesterwouldbettherewasaglassofsomethinginthespiritfamilyalreadypoured.
“MayIspeaktoNaomi?”
“Why?”
“I’m…”Hestertriedonherlegendarydisarmingsmile.“Look,Idon’tmeananyharm.I’mnothereinanysortoflegalcapacity.”
“Thenwhyareyouhere?”
“Iknowthisisoutoftheordinary,butisNaomiokay?”
“Idon’tunderstand—whyismydaughteranyofyourbusiness?”
“She’snot.Idon’tmeantopry.”Hestertriedtoconsideralltheanglesonthisanddecidedtogowiththemostpersonalandtruthfulreply.“NaomigoestoschoolwithmygrandsonMatthew.Maybeshe’smentionedhim?”
Pine’slipstightened.“Whyareyouhere?”
“I…MatthewandIjustwantedtomakesurethatshewasokay.”
“She’sfine.”
Hestartedtoclosethedoor.
“CanIseeher?”
“Areyouserious?”
“Iknowshe’sbeenoutofschool.”
“So?”
Enoughwiththedisarming.Sheputatouchofsteelinhervoice.“SowhereisNaomi,Mr.Pine?”
“Whatrightdoyou—?”
“None,”Hestersaid.“Noright.Zero,zilch.ButafriendofNaomi’sisworriedabouther.”
“Afriend?”Hemadeascoffingnoise.“Soyourgrandsonisherfriend,ishe?”
Hesterwasn’tsurewhattomakeofhistone.“I’mjustaskingtoseeher.”
“She’snothere.”
“Whereisshethen?”
“That’sreallynotyourbusiness.”
Alittlemoresteelinthetonenow:“Yousaidyou’veseenmeonTV.”
“So?”
“Soyouprobablyknowthatyoudon’twanttogetonmybadside.”
Sheglaredathim.Hesteppedback.
“Naomiisvisitinghermother.”Hisgripontheknobofthedoortightened.“AndMs.Crimstein?Mydaughterdoesn’tconcernyouoryourgrandson.Getoffmypropertynow.”
Heclosedthedoor.Then,asthoughtoaddemphasis,heboltedthelockwithanaudibleclick.
Timwasoutsideandwaiting.Heopenedthecardoorassheapproached.
“Douche-nozzle,”Hestermuttered.
Itwasgettinglate.Nighthadfallen.Thelightingouthere,especiallynearthemountains,wasnearnonexistent.TherewasnothingmoretobedoneaboutNaomiPinetonight.
Timslidintothedriver’sseatandstartedupthecar.“Weshouldprobablystartheadingback,”hesaid.“Yoursegmentstartsintwohours.”
Timmethereyeintherearviewmirrorandwaited.
“Howlonghasitbeensincewe’vebeentoWilde’s?”Hesterasked.
“It’llbesixyearsinSeptember.”
Sheshouldhavebeensurprisedathowmuchtimehadpassed.SheshouldhavebeensurprisedthatTimrecalledtheyearandmonthsoquickly.
Shouldhavebeen.Butwasn’t.
“Doyouthinkyoucouldstillfindhisroad?”
“Thistimeofnight?”Timconsideredit.“Probably.”
“Let’stry.”
“Youcan’tcall?”
“Idon’tthinkhehasaphone.”
“Hemayhavemoved.”
“No,”Hestersaid.
“Orhemaynotbehome.”
“Tim.”
Heshiftedthecarintodrive.“Onourway.”
CHAPTERFIVE
TimfoundtheturnonhisthirdpassalongHalifaxRoad.Thethinlaneofaroadwasalmostentirelycamouflagedsothatitfeltasthoughtheyweredrivingthroughagiantshrub.Thevegetationscrapedacrossthetopofthecarlikethosespongenoodlesatacarwash.AfewhundredyardssouthwastheSplitRockSweetwaterPrayerCampofthe…whatdidtheycallthemselvesnow?RamapoughLenapeNationorRamapoughMountainPeopleorRamapoughMountainIndiansorsimplyRamapoughs,withtheirmurkygenealogysomeclaimcamedirectlyfromtheindigenouspeoplenativetothisareaormaybenativetribesmixingwiththeHessianswhofoughtintheRevolutionaryWarormayberunawayslavesthathidamongsttheoldLenapetribesbeforetheCivilWar.Whatever,theRamapoughs—she’dkeepitsimpleinherownhead—werenowareclusivealbeitdwindlingtribe.
Thirty-fouryearsago,whenthelittleboynowcalledWildewasfoundhalfamilefromhere,manyhadsuspected—manystilldid—thathehadtosomehowbeconnectedtotheRamapoughs.Noonehadanyspecifics,ofcourse,butwhenyouaredifferentandpoorandreclusive,legendsspringup.Somaybeatribeswomanhadabandonedachildshe’dhadoutofwedlockormaybeinsomewhackytribalceremonythechildhadbeensentintothewoodsormaybehe’dwanderedoffandgottenlostandnowthetribewasafraidtoclaimhim.Itwasallnonsense,ofcourse.
Thesunhadset.Treesdidn’tsomuchlinethesliverofroadascrowdontoit,thetoplimbsbendingupandoverandreachingacrosslikechildren’sarmsplayingLondonBridgeIsFallingDown.Itwasdark.Hesterfiguredthatthey’dhitonesensorwhentheymadetheturn,probablytwoorthreemoreastheycoasteddowntheroad.Whentheyreachedthedeadend,TimmadeaK-turnsotheywerenowfacingthewayout.
Thewoodsremainedsilent,still.Thecarheadlightsprovidedtheonlyillumination.
“Nowwhat?”Timasked.
“Stayinthecar.”
“Youcan’tgoouttherealone.”
“Butcan’tI?”Theybothreachedfortheirdoorhandles,butHesterstoppedhimwithafirm“Stayput.”
Shesteppedintothesilentnightandclosedthedoorbehindher.
Thepediatricianswho’dexaminedWildeafterhisdiscoveryestimatedhisagebetweensixandeightyearsold.Hecouldspeak.Hehadlearnedhow,heclaimed,viahis“secret”friendshipwithHester’ssonDavidand,moredirectly,bybreakingintohomesandwatchingcountlesshoursoftelevision.Alongwithlivingoffthelandinthewarmerseasons,thatwashowWildehadfedhimself—foraginginhumanbeings’garbagecans,checkingwastebasketsnearparks,butmostlysneaking(akabreaking)intosummerhomesandraidingthefridgeandcupboards.
Thechilddidn’trememberanyotherlife.
Noparents.Nofamily.NocontactwithanyhumanotherthanDavid.
Onememory,however,didcomeback.Thememoryhauntedtheboyandnowtheman,kepthimupatnight,startlinghimawakeincoldsweatsatallhoursofthenight.Thememorycametohiminsnap-flasheswithnodiscerniblenarrativearc:adarkhouse,mahoganyfloorboards,aredbanister,aportraitofamanwithamustache,andscreams.
“Whatkindofscreams?”Hesterhadaskedthelittleboy.
“Terriblescreams.”
“No,Iunderstandthat.Imean,aretheythescreamsofaman?Awoman?Inyourmemory,whoisscreaming?”
Wildehadconsideredthat.“Iam,”hetoldher.“I’mtheonescreaming.”
Hesterfoldedherarms,leanedagainstthecar,andwaited.Thewaitdidn’tlastlong.
“Hester.”
WhenWildesteppedintoview,Hester’sheartfilledandexploded.Shecouldn’tsaywhy.Ithadjustbeenthatkindofdaymaybe,andseeingherson’sbestfriend—thelastpersontoseeDavidalive—justoverwhelmedheryetagain.
“Hi,Wilde.”
Wildewasagenius.Sheknewthat.Whoknewwhy?Achildcomesouthardwired.Thatwaswhatyoulearnedasaparent—thatyourkidiswhoheisandwhatheisandthatyou,asaparent,greatlyoverstateyourimportanceinhisdevelopment.Adearfriendoncetoldherthatbeingaparentislikebeingacarmechanic—youcanrepairthecarandtakecareofthecarandkeepthecarontheroad,butyoucan’tfundamentallychangethecar.Ifasportscardrivesintoyourgarageforrepairs,itisn’tdrivingoutanSUV.
Samewithkids.
Sopartofitwas,well,thatwaswhatWildewasgeneticallyhardwiredtobe—agenius.
Butexpertsalsoclaimthatearlydevelopmentishugelyimportant,thatsomethinglikeninetypercentofachild’sbraindevelopsbytheageoffive.ButthinkaboutWildebythatage.Imaginethestimulation,theexperiences,theexposure,ifasasmallchildhereallydidhavetotakecareofhimself,feedhimself,shelterhimself,comforthimself,defendhimself.
Whatwouldthatdotointensifyabrain’sdevelopment?
Wildesteppedintotheheadlightssoshecouldseehim.Hesmiledather.Hewasabeautifulmanwithhisdarksun-kissedcomplexion,hisbuildofcoiledmuscles,hisforearmslookinglikehigh-tensionwiresstrainingagainsttherolled-upflannelshirt,thefadedjeans,thescuffedhikingboots,thelonghair.
Theverylonghairoflightbrown.
Likethestrandshe’dfoundonthepillow.
Hesterdoverightin:“What’supwithyouandLaila?”
Hesaidnothing.
“Don’tdenyit.”
“Ididn’t.”
“So?”
“Shehasneeds,”Wildesaid.
“Seriously?”Hestersaid.“‘Shehasneeds’?Soyou’rebeing—what,Wilde?—aGoodSamaritan?”
Hetookasteptowardher.“Hester?”
“What?”
“Shecan’tloveagain.”
Justwhenshethoughtthatshecouldn’thurtanymore,hiswordsdetonatedanotherexplosivedeviceinherheart.
“Maybeonedayshecan,”Wildesaid.“Butrightnow,shestillmissesDavidtoomuch.”
Hesterlookedathim,feelingwhateverhadbeenbuildinginsideher—anger,hurt,stupidity,longing—deflate.
“I’msafeforher,”Wildesaid.
“Nothing’schangedforyou?”
“Nothing,”hesaid.
Shewasn’tsurehowshefeltaboutthat.Atfirst,everyonethoughtthatthey’dfindtheboy’srealidentifyfast.SoWilde—anobviousnicknamethatstuck—hadstayedwiththeCrimsteins.Eventually,ChildServicesplacedhimwiththeBrewers,abelovedfosterfamilywhoalsolivedinWestville.Hestartedschool.Heexcelledinprettymucheverythinghetried.ButWildewasalwaysanoutcast.Helovedhisfosterfamilythebesthecould—theBrewersevenofficiallyadoptedhim—butintheend,hecouldonlylivealone.OtherthanhisfriendshipwithDavid,Wildecouldn’treallyconnecttoanyone,especiallyadults.Takewhateverabandonmentissuesanynormalpersonmighthaveandraisethemtothetenthpower.
Therehadbeenwomeninhislife,lotsofthem,buttheycouldn’tlast.
“Isthatwhyyou’rehere?”Wildeasked.“ToaskaboutLaila?”
“Inpart.”
“Andtheotherpart?”
“Yourgodson.”
Thatgothisattention.“Whatabouthim?”
“Matthewaskedmetohelpfindafriendofhis.”
“Who?”
“AgirlnamedNaomiPine.”
“Whydidheaskyou?”
“Idon’tknow.ButIthinkMatthewmightbeintrouble.”
Wildestartedtowardthecar.“Timstilldrivingyou?”
“Yes.”
“Iwasabouttohikeovertothehouse.Givemealiftandtellmeaboutitontheway.”
***
Inthebackseat,HestersaidtoWilde,“Sothisisafling?”
“Lailacouldneverbeafling.Youknowthat.”
Hesterdidknow.“Soyouspendthewholenight?”
“No.Never.”
So,shethought,hereallywasthesame.“AndLailaisokaywiththat?”
Wilderepliedbyaskingaquestionofhisown:“Howdidyoufigureitout?”
“AboutyouandLaila?”
“Yes.”
“Thehousewastootidy.”
Wildedidn’trespond.
“You’reaneatfreak,”shesaid.Thatwasapoliteunderstatement.Hesterdidn’tunderstandofficialdiagnosesoranyofthat,butWildehadwhatalaymanmightconsiderobsessive-compulsivedisorder.“AndLailaisanythingbut.”
“Ah.”
“AndthenIfoundalongbrownhaironDavid’spillow.”
“Itisn’tDavid’spillow.”
“Iknow.”
“Yousnoopedinherbedroom?”
“Ishouldn’thave.”
“Yes.”
“I’msorry.It’sjustweird.Yougetthat,right?”
Wildenodded.“Igetit.”
“IwantLailahappy.Iwantyouhappy.”
ShewantedtoaddthatDavidwouldwantthattoo,butshecouldn’t.Probablysensingherdiscomfort,Wildechangedtopics.
“Sotellmewhat’supwithMatthew,”Wildesaid.
ShefilledhiminontheNaomiPineissue.Hewatchedherwiththosepiercingblueeyeswiththegoldflakes.Hebarelymovedasshespoke.Somehadnicknamedhim—probablystillnicknamedhim—Tarzan,andthemonikerfitalmosttoowell,asthoughWildewereplayingintothatrole,whatwiththebuildandthedarkskinandthelonghair
Whenshefinished,Wildesaid,“DidyoutellLailaaboutthis?”
Sheshookherhead.“Matthewaskedmenotto.”
“Yetyoutoldme.”
“Hedidn’tsayanythingaboutyou.”
Wildealmostsmiled.“Niceloopholeyoufoundthere.”
“Acorollaryofmyoccupation.Lovemeforallmyfaults.”
Wildelookedoff.
“What?”
“They’reprettytight,”Wildesaid.“LailaandMatthew.Whywouldn’thewanthertoknow?”
“That’swhatI’mwondering.”
Theysatbackinsilence.
Whenhewaseighteenyearsold,WildehadgonetoWestPoint,wherehefinishedwithallkindsofhonors.ThewholeCrimsteinclan—Hester,Ira,allthreeboys—hadtakentheforty-five-minutedrivetotheUnitedStatesMilitaryAcademyforWilde’sgraduation.Wildethenservedoverseas,mostlyinsomekindofspecialforce—Hestercouldneverrememberwhatitwascalled.Itwassecretstuff,andevennow,alltheseyearslater,Wildecouldn’torwouldn’ttalkaboutit.Classified.Butinasongwithatoofamiliarrefrain,whateverWildesawoverthere,whateverhedidorexperiencedorlost,warhadpushedhimovertheedgeormaybe,inhiscase,ithadawokentheghostsofhispast.Who’stosay?
WhenhefinishedservingandreturnedtoWestville,Wildegaveupthepretenseoftryingtoassimilateinto“normal”society.HestartedworkingasaprivateinvestigatorofsortsatasecurityfirmcalledCRAWwithhisfostersisterRola,butthatdidn’treallypanout.Heboughtasmalltrailer-likedwellingthatbroughtminimalismtoanewlevelandlivedoffthegridinthefoothillsofthemountains.Hemovedthedwellingaroundabit,thoughhewasalwayswithinshoutingdistanceofthatroad.Hesterdidn’tunderstandthetechnologicalminutiaeofhowWildeknewwhenhehadvisitors.Shejustknewithadsomethingtodowithmotiondetectorsandsensorsandnightcameras.
“Sowhytellmeaboutthis?”Wildeasked.
“Ican’tbeouthereallthetime,”shesaid.“Ihavecourtinthecity.IhavetheTVappearances,obligations,stufflikethat.”
“Okay.”
“Andwhowouldbebetterattrackingdownamissingpersonthanyou?”
“Right.”
“Andthentherewasthathaironthepillow.”
“Gotit.”
“Ihaven’tbeenthereforMatthewenough,”Hestersaid.
“He’sdoingfine.”
“Excepthethinksagirlwho’sbeenmissingfromschoolisinseriousdanger.”
“Exceptthat,”Wildeagreed.
WhenTimmadetheturn,theybothspottedMatthewwalkingawayfromthehouse.Itwasateenagewalk—headdown,shouldershunchedprotectively,feetscrapingtheground,handsjammedaggressivelydeepintohisjeans’pockets.HehadwhiteAirPodsinhisearsanddidn’thearorseethemuntilTimnearlycuthimoffwiththecar.Matthewpulledoutoneoftheearpieces.
Hestersteppedoutofthecarfirst.
Matthewsaid,“DidyoufindNaomi?”
WhenhespottedWildegettingoutofthepassengerdoor,Matthewfrowned.“Whatthe…?”
“Itoldhim,”Hestersaid.“Hewon’tsayanything.”
Matthewturnedhisattentionbacktowardhisgrandmother.“DidyoufindNaomi?”
“Ispoketoherfather.Hesaidshe’sfine,thatshe’svisitinghermother.”
“Butdidyoutalktoher?”
“Themother?”
“Naomi.”
“Notyet,no.”
“Thenmaybeherdadislying,”Matthewsaid.
HesterlookedoveratWilde.
Wildesteppedtowardhim.“Whywouldyouthinkthat,Matthew?”
Matthew’sgazedartedeverywherebutontheirs.“Couldyoujust,uh,makesureshe’sokay?”
ItwasWildewhomovedclosertotheboy,notHester.“Matthew,lookatme.”
“Iam.”
Hewasn’t.
“Areyouintrouble?”Wildeasked.
“What?No.”
“Talktomethen.”
Hesterstayedback.HerewasthemainreasonsheworriedsoaboutthisnewrelationshipbetweenLailaandWilde.Itwasn’taboutDavid’smemoryandthepainofhimbeingforevergone—oratleast,notonlyaboutthat.WildewasMatthew’sgodfather.WhenDaviddied,Wildehadbeenthere.Heansweredthecall,steppeduphisroleinMatthew’slife.Hewasn’tafatherorstepfatheroranythinglikethat.ButWildewasthere,moreasaninvolveduncle,andHesterandLailahadbeengrateful,believing,sexistasthismightsound,thatMatthewstillneededamaninhislife.
HowwouldtheromanticrelationshipbetweenLailaandWildeaffectMatthew?
Theboywasn’tstupid.IfHestersawthesignsinafewminutes,Matthewhadtoknowabouttheromancetoo.Sohowwastheboyhandlinghisgodfathershackingupsomenightswithhismother?WhatwouldhappentoMatthewiftherelationshipwentsouth?WereLailaandWildematureenoughtomakesureMatthewdidn’tgethurtinthefallout—orweretheybeingna?veintheirthinking?
MatthewwastallerthanWildenow.Whenthehellhadthathappened?Wildeputahandontheboy’sshoulderandsaid,“Talktome,Matthew.”
“I’mgoingtoaparty.”
“Okay.”
“AtCrash’shouse.Ryan,Trevor,Darla,Trish—they’llallbethere.”
Wildewaited.
“They’vebeenpickingonhermorelately.OnNaomi.”Matthewclosedhiseyes.“Supercruelstuff.”
Hesterjoinedthem.“Whohasbeenpickingonher?”
“Thepopularkids.”
“You?”Hesterasked.
Hekepthiseyesontheground.
Wildesaid,“Matthew?”
Matthew’svoice,whenhefinallyspoke,wassoft.“No…”Hehesitated.Theywaited.“ButIletithappen.Ididn’tdoanything.Ishouldhave.CrashandTrevorandDarlaplayedaprankonher.Ameanone.Andnow…nowshe’sgone.That’swhyI’mgoingtoCrash’sparty.ToseeifIcanlearnanything.”
“Whatkindofprank?”Hesterasked.
“That’sallIknow.”
Acardrivenbyoneteenwithanotherridingshotgunpulleduptothem.Thedriverhonkedthehorn.
“Ihavetogo,”Matthewsaid.“Please…justkeeplookingtoo,okay?”
“I’mhavingsomeonefrommyofficetracedownNaomi’smother,”Hestersaid.“I’lltalktoher.”
Matthewnodded.“Thanks.”
“Isthereanyoneelseweshouldtalkto,Matthew?AfriendofNaomi’smaybe?”
“Shehasnofriends.”
“Ateacher,afamilymember—”
Hesnappedhisfingerandhiseyeslitup.“MissO’Brien.”
Wildesaid,“AvaO’Brien?”
Matthewnodded.“She’s,like,anassistantartteacherorsomething.”
“Andyouthink—?”Hesterasked.
Thedriverhonkedthehornagain.Hestersilenceditwithaglare.
“Igottago.I’mhopingtolearnsomethingattheparty.”
“Learnwhat?”Hesterasked.
ButMatthewdidn’treply.Hehoppedintothebackseatofthecar.WildeandHesterwatchedthemdriveaway.
“YouknowthisMissO’Brien?”HesteraskedWilde.
“Yes.”
“ShouldIaskhow?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“That’swhatIthought.Willshetalktoyou?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”Whenthecardisappearedaroundthebend,Hesterasked,“Whatdoyouthink?”
“IthinkMatthewisn’ttellinguseverything.”
“MaybeNaomi’smothercallsmeback.MaybesheletsmetalktoNaomi.”
“Maybe,”Wildesaid.
“Butyoudon’tthinkso.”
“No,Idon’tthinkso.”
Theybothturnedandlookeddownthecul-de-sactowardtheCrimsteinhomestead.
“Ihavetogetbacktothecitytodomyshow,”Hestersaid.
“Uh-huh.”
“Idon’thavetimetogetintothiswithLailanow.”
“Probablybest,”Wildesaid.“Doyourshow.I’lltalktoLaila,thenI’lltalktoAvaO’Brien.”
Hesterhandedhimabusinesscardwithhermobilenumberonit.“Stayintouch,Wilde.”
“Youtoo,Hester.”
CHAPTERSIX
WhenLailaansweredthefrontdoor,sheasked,“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Thenwhyareyouusingthefrontdoor?”
Wildealwayscameinthroughthebackdoor.Always.HehikedthroughthewoodsthatcameupbehindtheCrimsteinhouse.He’dbeendoingthatsincethedaysDavidsneakedhiminsidewhentheywerelittleboys.
“Well?”
Lailahadthispassionandenergythatturnedherbeautyintoaliving,breathing,pulsatingentity.Youcouldn’thelpbutbedrawnin,towatch,towanttobeapartofit.
“Ican’tstayfordinner,”hesaid.
“Oh.”
“Sorry.Somethingjustcameup.”
“Youdon’towemeanexplanation.”
“Icancomebacklater,ifyouwant.”
Lailastudiedhisface.HewantedtotellheraboutMatthewandthisNaomisituation,butafterweighingtheprosandcons,he’ddecidedthatkeepinghisgodson’sconfidencetrumpedinformingonhimtohismother.Fortodayanyway.Fornow.Itwasaclosecall,butLailawouldunderstand.
Maybe.
“Ihaveanearlymorninganyway,”Lailasaid.
“Gotit.”
“AndMatthewisouttonight.Idon’tknowwhattimehe’llgetback.”
Wildemimickedherinthegentlestwayashequotedher:“‘Youdon’towemeanexplanation.’”
Lailagavehimasmile.“Ah,whatthehell.Comebackifyoucan.”
“Mightbelate.”
“Idon’tcare,”shesaid.Then:“Youdidn’ttellmewhyyou’reusingthefrontdoor.”
“IspottedMatthewonthestreet.”
Notalie.
“Whatdidhesaytoyou?”
“ThathewasgoingtoapartyatsomeonenamedCrash’shouse.”
“CrashMaynard,”shesaid.
“Asin?”
“Yeah,theMaynardManor.SonofDash.”
“DashhasasonnamedCrash?”
“HisfatherlovedthemovieBullDurhamorsomething.Canyoubelievethat?”
Heshrugged.“WhenyournameisWilde…”
“Touché.”
Darknesshadfallen.Thelullabyofcricketsplayed,hisconstantcomfortingcompanion.“Ibettergo.”
“Wait.”Lailadugintoherjeanspocket.“Noneedtoplaymountainman.”Shepulledoutherkeyfobandtossedittohim.“Takemycar.”
“Thankyou.”
“You’rewelcome.”
“Imaynotbegonelong.”
“I’llbehere,Wilde.”
Lailaclosedthedoor.
***
Eightmonthsago,whenWildefirstencounteredAvaO’Brien,shewaslivingoffRoute17inasprawlingcondodevelopmentofdullgraysandbeiges.Thatnight,astheystumbledunderpoppingfluorescentstreetlightsbacktoherplace,Avahadmadeajokeabouthowthecondoslookedsomuchalikethatsheoftenstuckherkeyinthewrongdoor.
Wildehadnosuchissue.Hestillrememberedtheexactaddressandlocation.
Nooneansweredonthefirstknock.Wildeknewthecondolayout.Hecheckedthewindowontheupperright.Thelightwason.Thatdidn’tmeanmuch.Helookedforapassingshadow.Nothing.
Heknockedagain.
Shufflingfeet.Apause.Itwasnearlyninep.m.now.AvaO’Brienwasprobablylookingthroughthepeephole.Hestoodandwaited.Amomentlaterheheardaslidingchain.Theknobturned.
“Wilde?”
Avaworeabigterryclothrobe.Heknewtherobe.Hehadevenwornit.
“CanIcomeinforasecond?”heasked.
Hetriedtoreadherfacetoseewhethershewashappyorsadtoseehim.Notthatitwouldchangeanything.Herexpression,however,seemedmixed.Therewasmaybesurprise.Therewasmaybesomejoy.Therewasalsosomethingelse—somethinginherexpressionthathecouldn’tquiteputhisfingeron.
“Now?”
Hedidn’tbotherreplying.
Avaleanedforward,methiseye,andwhispered,“I’mnotalone,Wilde.”
Ah,sonowhecouldquiteputhisfingeronit.
Herfacesoftened.“Ah,Wilde,”shesaidinavoicetootender.“Whytonight?”
Maybeheshouldn’thavecome.MaybeheshouldhaveleftthistoHester.
“It’saboutNaomiPine,”hesaid.
Thatgotherattention.Sheglancedbehindher,steppedoutontothestoop,andclosedthedoor.
“WhataboutNaomi?”sheasked.“Issheokay?”
“She’smissing.”
“Whatdoyoumean,missing?”
“She’soneofyourstudents,right?”
“Sortof.”
“Whatdoyoumean,sortof?”
“Whatdoyoumean,she’smissing?”
“Didyounoticeshe’sbeenabsent?”
“Iassumedshewassick.”Avatightenedtheterryclothrobe.“Idon’tunderstand.What’syourinterestinthis?”
“I’mtryingtofindher.”
“Why?”Whenhedidn’treplyrightaway,Avaasked,“Didyouaskherfather?”
“Mycolleague”—easierthantryingtoexplainaboutHester—“did.”
“And?”
“HeclaimsthatNaomiiswithhermother.”
“Hesaidthat?”
“Yes.”
NowAvalookedgenuinelyconcerned.“Naomi’smotherhasn’tbeenapartofherlifeforalongtime.”
“Sowe’vebeentold.”
“Howdidyouendupcomingtome?”
“Asource”—againeasier—“claimedthatyou’reclosetoher.”
“Istilldon’tunderstand.WhyareyoulookingforNaomi?Didsomeonehireyou?”
“No.I’mdoingitasafavor.”
“Afavorforwhom?”
“Ican’ttellyou.Doyouhaveanyideawheresheis?”
Thedoorbehindheropened.Abigmanwithoneofthosesuperlongbeardsfilledthedoorway.HelookedatAva,thenatWilde.“Hi,”hesaid.
“Hi,”Wildesaid.
HelookedbackatAva.“Ibetterbegoing.”
“Noneed,”Wildesaid.“Thiswon’ttakelong.”
ThebeardedmanlookedatAvasomemore.Then,asifhe’dseenananswerthere,henoddedtohimself.“Raincheck?”heaskedher.
“Sure.”
Hekissedheronthecheek,slappedWildeontheback,andjoggeddownthesteps.HeslidintohisGMCTerrain,headedoutinreverse,andwavedgoodbye.WildeturnedbacktowardAvaandconsideredmakinganapology.Shewavedthataway.
“Comeonin.”
***
WildesatonthesameredcouchwhereheandAvahadfirstkissed.Hequicklyscannedtheroom.Nothingmuchhadchangedsincehe’dspentthosethreedaysherewithher.Ononewall,thereweretwonewpaintingshungtheslightestbitcrookedly—onewatercolorofwhatlookedlikeatormentedface,oneoilpaintingoftheHouvenkopfMountain,whichwasn’tfarfromhere.
“Thepaintings,”heasked.“Youdothem?”
Sheshookherhead.“Students.”
Hehadfiguredthat.Shedidn’tlikedisplayingherownwork.Toopersonal,she’dtoldhimwhenheasked.Tooself-involved.Tooeasytoseeallyourflaws.
“EitherofthembyNaomi?”
“No,”Avasaid.“Butgoaheadifyouwant.”
“Goaheadandwhat?”
Shegesturedtothewalls.“Straightenthem.Iknowhowantsyit’smakingyou.”
Atnight,whileAvahadslept,Wildewouldgoaround,sometimeswithalevel,andmakesurethepaintingswereindeedcompletelystraight.Itwasoneofthereasonswhyhewasgladhehadnothinghungupinhisownabode.
AsWildestartedtoadjustthepaintings,Avatookaseatinthechairfarthestawayfromhim.“Youneedtotellmewhyyou’relookingforher.”
“No,Idon’t.”
“Excuseme?”
Hefinishedfinaglingwiththemountainwatercolor.“Wedon’thavetimeforexplanations.Doyoutrustme,Ava?”
Shepushedthehairbackfromherface.“ShouldI?”
Theremayhavebeenanedgeinthetone,hecouldn’tbesure.
Then:“Yes,Wilde,Itrustyou.”
“TellmeaboutNaomi.”
“Idon’tknowwheresheis,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking.”
“Butshe’soneofyourstudents?”
“Shewillbe.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“IencouragedhertosignupforIntrotoWatercolorsnextsemester.She’llbemystudentthen.”
“Butyoualreadyknowher?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Idocafeteriadutythreedaysaweek.Withthecutbacks,theywerewoefullyunderstaffed.”Sheleanedforward.“Youwenttothathighschool,didn’tyou?”
“Yes.”
“You’renotgoingtobelievethis,butwhenthetwoofuswere,uh”—shelookedupasthoughsearchingfortherightwordbeforeshruggingandsettlingfor—“together,Ihadnoideawhoyouwere.Imean,aboutyourpast.”
“Iknow.”
“How?”
“Icanalwaystell.”
“Peopletreatyoudifferently,right?Nevermind.Itdoesn’tmatter.Iimagineyouwereanoutcastatthatplace,right?”
“Tosomedegree.”
“Tosomedegree,”sherepeated,“becauseyou’restrongandattractiveandprobablyathletic.Naomiisnoneofthosethings.Sheisthatgirl,Wilde.Thefull-on,grade-A,bulliedoutcast.Somehow—andthiswillsoundawful—butthereissomethingaboutherthatmakesiteasierforpeople.Humannaturethatnoonewantstodiscuss.Thereisabitofusthatenjoysthespectacle.Likeshedeservesit.Andit’snotjuststudents.Theotherteacherssmirk.I’mnotsayingtheylikeit,buttheydonothingtodefendher.”
“Butyoudo.”
“Itry.Itoftenmakesitworse.Iknowthat’sacop-out,butwhenIstoodupforher,well,let’sjustsayitdidn’thelp.SowhatIdoinstead,Ipretendshegetsintrouble—Ihopethatmaybegiveshercredorsomething—andpartofherpunishmentis,shecan’tsitinthecafeteriaduringlunch.Itakehertotheartstudio.Sometimes,ifIgetoutofcafeteriaduty,I’llsitwithher.Idon’tthinkithelpedmuchwiththestudents,butatleast…”
“Atleastwhat?”
“AtleastNaomigetsabreak.Atleastshegetsafewminutesofpeaceduringtheschoolday.”Avablinkedawayatear.“IfNaomiismissing,sheprobablyranaway.”
“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Becauseherlifeishell.”
“Evenathome?”
“Idon’tknowifhellistherightword,butitisn’tgreatthereeither.DoyouknowNaomiwasadopted?”
Wildeshookhishead.
“Shetalksaboutitmorethananadoptedkidshould.”
“Inwhatway?”
“Fantasizingaboutbeingrescuedbyherrealparents,forexample.Heradoptiveparentshadtogothroughallkindsofinterviewsandscreenings,andwhentheypassed,theywereawardedaninfant—Naomi—butthenprettymuchrightaway,themomcouldn’thandleit.Theyeventriedtoreturnhertotheorphanage.Doyoubelievethat?LikeshewasapackagedeliveredbyUPS.Anyway,hermotherhadabreakdown.Orclaimedto.SheabandonedNaomiandherfather.”
“Doyouknowwherethemotherisnow?”
“Oh,she’s”—Avafrownedandmadeairquoteswithherfingers—“‘recovered.’Remarriedarichguy.NaomisaysshelivesinafancytownhouseonParkAvenue.”
“HasNaomisaidanythingtoyoulately?Anythingthatmighthelp?”
“No.”Then:“Nowthatyoumentionit.”
“What?”
“Sheseemedalittle…better.Morerelaxed.Calm.”
Wildedidn’tsayanything,buthedidn’tlikethat.
“Nowit’syourturn,Wilde.Whyareyouasking?”
“Someoneisworriedabouther.”
“Who?”
“Ican’tsay.”
“MatthewCrimstein.”
Hesaidnothing.
“LikeIsaid,Wilde,Ididn’tknowwhoyouwerewhenwemet.”
“Butyouknownow.”
“Yes.”Hereyesweresuddenlybrightwithtears.Hereachedoutandtookherhandsinhis.Shepulledaway.Helether.“Wilde?”
“Yes.”
“Youneedtofindher.”
***
Wildewalkedbacktothecondoparkinglot.HedroveLaila’sBMWtwentyyardstoadumpster.Hesterhadbeencorrect.Lailawasaslob.Abeautifulslob.Shekeptherownselfmeticulouslyneatandcleanandfreshlyshowered.Buthersurroundingsdidnotfollowsuit.ThebackseatofherBMWhadcoffeecupsandproteinbarwrappers.
Wildeputthecarinparkandemptieditout.Hewasn’tagermophobe,buthewasgladthatshehadantibacteriallotionintheglovecompartment.HelookedbackatAva’shouse.Wouldshecallbackthebigguywiththebiggerbeard?Doubtit.
Hedidn’tregrethistimewithAva.Notintheslightest.Infact,therehadbeenastrangepangwhenhefirstsawher,somethingakinto…longing?Maybeitwasjustificationorrationalization,butthefactthathecouldn’tconnectlongtermdidn’tmeanhedidn’tappreciatenewexperienceswithnewpeople.Heneverwantedtohurtthem,butmaybeitwasevenworsetopatronizethemorhandthemsomebullshitline.Hesettledonbeingcompletelytruthful,notsugarcoatingit,notbeingtoofauxprotective.
Wildesleptoutside.Evenonthosenights.
Itwashardtoexplainwhy,sosometimeshewouldleaveanote,sneakbacktothewoodsforafewhours,andthenbebackbythemorning.Wildecouldn’tfallasleepwhensomeoneelsewaswithhim.
Itwasthatsimple.
Outsidehedreamtalotabouthismother.
Ormaybeitwasn’thismother.Maybeitwasanotherwomaninthathousewiththeredbanister.Hedidn’tknow.Butinthedream,hismother—callherthatfornow—wasbeautiful,withlongauburnhairandemeraldeyesandthevoiceofanangel.Wasthiswhathismotherreallylookedlike?Theimagewasabittooperfect,perhapsmoredelusionthanreality.ItcouldbesomethinghejustconjureduporhadevenseenonTV.
Memorymakesdemandsthatyouoftencan’tkeep.Memoryisfaultybecauseitinsistsonfillingintheblanks.
Hisphonerang.ItwasHester.
“DidyoutalktoAvaO’Brien?”Hesterasked.
“Yes.”
“Areyouproudofmefornotpryingabouthowyouknowher?”
“You’rethemodelofdiscretion.”
“Sowhatdidshesay?”
Wildefilledherin.Whenhefinished,shesaid,“ThatpartaboutNaomiseemingcalm.That’snotgood.”
“Iknow,”Wildesaid.
Whenpeopledecidetoendtheirlives,theyoftenexhibitasenseofcalm.Thedecisionhasbeenmade.Aweight,oddlyenough,hasbeenlifted.
“Well,Ihavenews,”Hestersaid.“Andit’snotgood.”
Wildewaited.
“Themothercalledmeback.ShehasnoideawhereNaomiis.”
“Sothefatherlied,”Wildesaid.
“Maybe.”
Eitherway,itwouldn’thurtforWildetopaythedadavisit.
SomeonecalledouttoHester.Therewassomecommotioninthebackground.
“Allokay?”heasked.
“I’mabouttogoliveonair,”Hestersaid.“Wilde?”
“Yes.”
“Weneedtodosomethingfast,agreed?”
“Itcouldstillbenothing.”
“Isthatwhatyourgutistellingyou?”
“Idon’tlistentomygut,”Wildesaid.“Ilistentothefacts.”
“Bullshit.”Then:“Arethefactsworriedaboutthisgirl?”
“Thisgirl,”heagreed.“AndMatthew.”
Therewasmorecommotion.
“Gottago,Wilde.We’lltalksoon.”
Shehungup.
***
Hestersatatthenewsdeskonaleather-backedstool,setatadtoohighforher.Hertoesbarelytouchedthefloor.Theteleprompterwaslinedupandreadytoroll.Lori,theon-dutyhairstylist,wasworkingsomefinaltouches,whichinvolvedtwo-fingerplucking,whileBryan,themakeupartist,addedsomelast-secondconcealer.Theredcountdownclock,whichresembledthetimeronaTV-dramabomb,indicatedthattheyhadundertwominutesuntilair.
Hercohostfortonightplayedonhisphone.Hesterclosedhereyesforasecond,feltthemakeupbrushstrokehercheek,feltthefingersgentlypullherhairintoplace.Itwasalloddlysoothing.
Whenherphonevibrated,sheopenedhereyeswithasighandshooedLoriandBryanaway.Shenormallywouldn’ttakeacallthisclosetogoingonair,butthecallerIDtoldheritwashergrandson.
“Matthew?”
“Didyoufindheryet?”
Hisvoicewasadesperatehush.
“Whyareyouwhispering?Whereareyou?”
“AtCrash’shouse.DidyouspeaktoNaomi’smother?”
“Yes.”
“Whatdidshesay?”
“Shedoesn’tknowwhereNaomiis.”
Hergrandsonmadeasoundthatmighthavebeenagroan.
“Matthew,whataren’tyoutellingus?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Itdoes.”
Histoneturnedsullen.“ForgetIasked,okay?”
“Notokay.”
Oneoftheproducersyelled,“Tensecondstoair.”
Hercohostpocketedhisphoneandsatupstraight.HeturnedtoHester,sawshehadthephonepressedagainstherear,andsaid,“Uh,Hester?You’redoingtheintro.”
Theproducerhelduphishandtoindicatefiveseconds.Hetuckedhisthumbtoshowitwasnowfour.
“I’llcallyouback,”Hestersaid.
Sheputthephoneonthetableinfrontofherastheproducerdroppedhisindexfinger.
Threesecondsmayseemlikeaveryshorttime.Intelevisionterms,it’snot.HesterhadtimetoglanceatAllisonGrant,hersegmentproducer,andnod.AllisonhadtimetomakeafaceandnodbacksoastoindicatethatshewouldcomplywithHester’srequestbutshewoulddosoreluctantly.
Still,Hesterhadpreparedforthis.Thereweretimesyouinvestigated—andthereweretimesyouinstigated.
Itwastimeforthelatter.
TheproducerfinishedhiscountdownandpointedatHester.
“Goodevening,”Hestersaid,“andwelcometothiseditionofCrimsteinonCrime.Ourleadstorytonightis—whatelse?—upstartpresidentialcandidateRustyEggersandthecontroversysurroundinghiscampaign.”
Thatpartwasontheteleprompter.Therestwasnot.
Hestertookadeepbreath.Inforapenny,infora…
“Butfirst,breakingnewsjustcomingin,”Hestersaid.
Hercohostfrownedandturnedtowardher.
Thethingwas,Matthewwasscared.ThatwaswhatHestercouldn’tshake.Matthewwasscared,andhehadaskedforherhelp.Howcouldshenotdoallshecould?
AphotographofNaomiPinefilledtelevisionscreensacrossthecountry.ItwastheonlyphotographherproducerAllisonGranthadbeenabletofind,andthathadtakensomedoing.Therewasnothingonsocialmedia,whichwasreallystrangeintoday’ssociety,butAllison,whowasasgoodastheycame,dugupthewebsitefortheschoolphotographerwhotooktheofficialSweetWaterHighportraits.OnceAllisonpromisedthattheywouldkeepthewatermarkwithhislogoonit,thephotographerhadagreedtoletthemuseitonair.
Hestercontinued:“Tonight,alocalgirlfromWestville,NewJersey,ismissingandneedsyourhelp.”
***
FromtheparkinglotoutsideAva’scondo,Wildeweighedhisoptions.Therereallywasn’tmuchmoretodowhenhethoughtaboutit.Thehourwasgettinglate.SoOptionOne:HecouldjustdrivebacktoLaila’shouseandgentlypadupstairstothebedroomwhereshe’dbewaitingand…
Yeah,didhereallyhavetoreviewotheroptions?
Tocoverhisbases,hetextedMatthew:Whereareyou?
Matthew:AtCrashMaynard’s.
Lailahadtoldhimthatearlier,buthewasn’tsurehewassupposedtoknow.
Wilde:IsNaomithere?Matthew:No.
Wildedebatedwhattotypenext,butthenhesawthedotsdancing,indicatingthatMatthewwastyping.
Matthew:Shit.Wilde:What?Matthew:Somethingbadisgoingdown.
Wilde’sthumbsdidn’tmoveasfastashewantedthemto,buthefinallymanagedtotype:Likewhat?
Noreply.
Wilde:Hello?
TheutopianimagefromOptionOne—Lailaupstairsinthatbedroom,warmunderthecovers,readinglegalbriefs—roseupinfrontofhimsorealhecouldsmellherskin.
Wilde:Matthew?
Noreply.TheLaila-relatedimageturnedtosmokeanddriftedintotheether.
Damn.
WildestarteduptheroadtowardMaynardManor.
CHAPTERSEVEN
MatthewwasinCrashMaynard’senormousmansiononthehill.
Themansion’sexteriorlookedoldandkindofGothicwithmarblecolumns.ItremindedMatthewofthatsnootygolfclubhisgrandmothertookhimtobecauseoneofherclientswasgettingsomekindofaward.Hesterhadn’tlikedbeingthere,heremembered.Asshesuckeddownthewine—toomuchwineasitturnedout—hereyesbegantonarrow.Sheglancedaroundtheroom,frowningandmutteringunderherbreathaboutsilverspoonsandprivilegeandinbreeding.Whenheaskedherwhatwaswrong,Hesterhadlookedhergrandsonupanddownandsaid,loudenoughforthosenearbytohear:“You’rehalfJew,halfblack—you’ddoublynotbeallowedinthisclub.”Thenshepaused,raisedafingerintheair,andadded,“Ormaybeyou’dbetwotokensinone.”Whenanelderlyladywithfrozendollopsofsnow-whitehairmadeatut-tut,shh-shhnoiseinherdirection,Hesterhadtoldhertoblowitoutherass.
ThatwasMatthew’sgrandmother.Nananeveravoidedacontroversyifshecouldcreateone.
Itwasbothmortifyingandcomforting.Mortifying,well,thatwasprettyobvious.Comfortingbecauseheknewthathisgrandmotheralwayshadhisback.Heneverquestionedit.Didn’tmatterthatshewassmallorseventyorwhatever.Hisgrandmotherseemedsuperhumantohim.
Therewereaboutadozenkidsatwhatparentsinsistedoncallinga“party”butwasreallyjustagatheringinCrash’s“lowerlevel”—Crash’sparentsdidn’tlikecallingitabasement—whichmayhavebeenthecoolestplaceMatthewhadeverbeen.Iftheexteriorwasoldschool,theinteriorcouldn’thavebeenmorestateoftheart.Thehometheaterwasclosertoafull-fledgedcinemawithmoddigitalsounddesignandforty-plusseats.Therewasacherrywoodbarandreal-theaterpopcornmachineoutfront.ThecorridorswerelinedwithamixofvintagemoviepostersandpostersforCrash’sdad’stelevisionshows.ThearcaderoomwasaminireplicaoftheSilverball,thefamedpinballpalaceontheAsburyParkboardwalk.Downonecorridorwasawinecellarwithoakbarrels.Theotherbecameanundergroundtunnelleadingtoaregulation-sizedbasketballcourt,areplica—lotsofreplicas—oftheKnicks’flooratMadisonSquareGarden.
Nooneeverhungoutonthebasketballcourt.Nooneeverusedthepinballarcade.Noonewaseverreallyinthemoodtowatchanythinginthemovietheater.NotthatMatthewhadbeenherealot.Formostofhislife,he’dbeenontheoutswiththepopularcrowd,butrecently,Matthewhadwormedhiswaybackin.Truthbetold,helovedithere.Thepopularkidsdidthecoolestthings,likewhenCrashhadthatbirthdaybashinManhattan.Hisdadhadrentedblacklimostotransportthem,andthepartyhadbeeninsomehugeplacethatusedtobeabank.Alltheboysgottobe“escorted”inbypastcontestantsonDashMaynard’srealityshowHotModelsinLingerie.AfamousTVstarhadDJedtheparty,andwhenheintroduced“mybestfriendandourbirthdayboy,”Crashhadriddeninonawhitehorse,arealhorse,andthenhisfatherdroveinbehindhiminaredTeslahe’dgivenhissonasapresent.
Tonightmostofthekidshadendedupinthe“regular”TVroom—aninety-eight-inchSamsung4KUltraHDhangingonthewall.CrashandKyleplayedMaddenvideofootball,therestofthegang—Luke,Mason,Kaitlin,Darla,Ryan,andofcourseSutton,alwaysSutton—laysprawledacrossupscalebeanbagchairsasthoughsomegiantbeinghadtossedthemfromthesky.Mostofhisfriendswerehigh.CalebandBriannahadgoneofftoaroomdownthecorridortotaketheirhookuptothenextlevel.
Theroomwasdark,thebluelightfromboththetelevisionandindividualsmartphonesilluminatinghisclassmates’faces,turningthemaghostlypale.Suttonwasontheright,uncharacteristicallyonherown.Matthewwantedtotakeadvantageofthatopening,andsohelookedforawaytomoveclosertoher.He’dhadanunrequitedcrushonSuttonsinceseventhgrade—Suttonwiththealmostsupernaturalpoiseandblondhairandperfectskinandmelt-your-bonessmile—andshewasalwaysniceandfriendlyandasixth-degreeblackbeltinhowtokeepguyslikeMatthewinthefriendzone.
Onthebigscreen,Crash’svideoquarterbackthrewadeeppassthatwentforatouchdown.Crashjumpedup,didalittlecelebrationdance,andshoutedatKyle,“Inyourface!”Thisledtosomehalfheartedlaughsfromthespectators,allofwhomwereontheirphones.Crashlookedaroundasthoughhe’dexpectedmoreinthewayofareaction.Butitwasn’thappening.
Nottonightanyway.
Therewassomethingintheroom,awhiffoffearordesperation.
“Weneedmoremunchies?”Crashasked.
Nooneresponded.
“Comeon,who’swithme?”
Thehalfheartedmurmurswereenough.Crashhitabuttonontheintercom.Awoman’sMexican-accentedvoicesaid,“Yes,Mr.Crash?”
“Canwegetsomenachosandquesadillas,Rosa?”
“Ofcourse,Mr.Crash.”
“Andcanyoucrushupsomeofthathomemadeguac?”
“Ofcourse,Mr.Crash.”
Onthescreen,Crashkickedoff.LukeandMasondrankbeers.KaitlinandRyansharedajointwhileDarlavapedwiththelatestflavorsfromJuul.TheroomhadbeenCrash’sdad’scigarroomandtheyhaddonesomethingtoitsoyoucouldn’treallysmellthenewsmoke.Kaitlinpassedane-cigarettetoSutton.Suttontookit,butshedidn’tputitinhermouth.
Kylesaid,“Man,IloveRosa’sguac.”
“Right?”
CrashandKylehigh-fivedandthensomeone,maybeMason,forcedupalaugh.Lukejoinedin,thenKaitlin,thenprettymucheveryoneexceptMatthewandSutton.Matthewdidn’tknowwhattheywerealllaughingabout—Rosa’sguacamole?—butthesoundhadzeroauthenticity,liketheywerealltryingtoohardtobenormal.
Masonsaid,“Shecheckinontheapp?”
Silence.
“Iwasjustsaying—”
“There’snothing,”Crashsaid,interruptinghim.“Igotanappthatgivesupdates.”
Moresilence.
Matthewslippedoutoftheroom.Heheadedtowardtherelativeprivacyofthenearbywinecellar.Whenheclosedthedoorbehindhim,hesatonabarrelthatreadMaynardVineyards—yes,theyownedavineyardtoo—andcalledhisgrandmother
“Matthew?”
“Didyoufindheryet?”
“Whyareyouwhispering?Whereareyou?”
“AtCrash’shouse.DidyouspeaktoNaomi’smother?”
“Yes.”
Matthewfelthisheartbeatinginhischest.“Whatdidshesay?”
“Shedoesn’tknowwhereNaomiis.”
Heclosedhiseyesandgroaned.
“Matthew,whataren’tyoutellingus?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Itdoes.”
Buthecouldn’tsayanything.Notyet.“ForgetIasked,okay?”
“Notokay.”
Throughthephone,heheardamalevoicesay,“Tensecondstoair.”Thensomeoneelsemumbledsomethinghecouldn’tmakeout.
“I’llcallyouback,”Hestersaidbeforedisconnectingthecall.
Ashetookthephoneawayfromhisear,afamiliarvoicesaid,“Hey.”
Heturnedtothewinecellarentrance.ItwasSutton.ShewasstillblinkingawaythedarkoftheTVroom.
“Hey,”hesaid.
Suttonhadabottleofbeerinherhand.“Youwantsome?”
Heshookhishead,afraidthatSuttonwouldthinkitwasgrosstosharehisgermsorsomething.Thenagain,hadn’tsheaskedhim?
Suttonlookedaroundthewinecellarasifshe’dneverseenitbefore,thoughshehadalwaysbeenwiththepopularcrowd.Always.
“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”sheasked.
Matthewshrugged.“Idon’tknow.”
“Youdon’tseemyourselftonight.”
ItsurprisedhimthatSuttonwouldnoticesomethinglikethat.
Heshruggedagain.Man,didheknowhowtowoogirlsorwhat?
ThenSuttonsaid:“She’sfine,youknow.”
Justlikethat.
“Matthew?”
“Doyouknowwheresheis?”
“No,but…”Nowitwasherturntoshrug.
Hisphonebuzzed.Hesneakedapeek.
Whereareyou?
ItwasfromWilde.Matthewquicklytextedback:AtCrashMaynard’s.
IsNaomithere?No.
Suttonsteppedtowardhim.“They’realittleworriedaboutyou.”
“Who?”
“CrashandKyle,theothers.”Shelookedathimwiththoseblueeyes.“Metoo.”
“I’mfine.”
Nowherphonebuzzed.Whenshereadit,hereyeswidened.“OhmyGod.”
“What?”
Shelookedupathimwiththosegorgeouseyes.“Didyou…?”
Heheardacommotionfromdownthecorridor.
Matthewtyped:Shit.
Wilde:What?
CrashburstintothewinecellarasMatthewhitsendon:Somethingbadisgoingdown.
Kylecameinrightbehindhim.Theybothhadtheirsmartphonesintheirhands.CrashstormedtowardMatthewsofastthatMatthewactuallyputhisfistsupasthoughpreparingtowardoffablow.Crashstopped,raisedhishandsinasurrendermotion,andsmiled.
Thesmilewasoily.Matthewfeltsomethingroilinthepitofhisstomach.
“Whoa,whoa,”CrashsaidinavoicethataimedforcomfortingbutslithereddownMatthew’sbacklikeasnake.“Let’sslowdownhere.”
CrashMaynardwassurfacehandsome—wavydarkhair,broodingboy-bandexpression,thinframeadornedinthelatestfashion.Whenyoutookacloserlookathim,youcouldseethatCrashwasnothingspecial,notinanywayreally,butasHesteroncejokedaboutarichgirlshewantedMatthewtodate,“She’sbeautifulwhenshe’sstandingonhermoney.”
Crashalwaysworeabigsilversmile-skullring.Itlookedridiculousonhisthin,smoothfinger.
Withthatoilysmilestillonhisface,CrashliftedhisphoneandturnedittowardMatthew.“Doyouwanttoexplainthis?”
Hepusheddownonthescreenusingthefingerwiththesmile-skullring.TheringseemedtowinkatMatthew.Avideosprangtolife,startingoffwiththefamiliarnetworknewslogo.Thenhisgrandmothercameonthescreen.
“Butfirst,breakingnewsjustcomingin…”
AphotoofNaomiappearedonthescreen.
“Tonight,alocalgirlfromWestville,NewJersey,ismissingandneedsyourhelp.NaomiPinehasbeenmissingforatleastaweeknow.Therehavebeennoreportedsightingsorransomdemands,butfriendsareconcernedthattheteenmaybeindanger.…”
Ohno.…
Matthewfelthisstomachtumble.Hehadn’tthoughtaboutthat,thatNanamightgoliveontheairwiththestory.Orwasthatwhathe’dsecretlybeenhoping?Hewasn’tsurprisedbyhowfastthenews—accordingtothetimerontheapp,lessthantwominutes—haddisseminatedamongsthisfriends.Thatwashowitworkednow.SomeonemaybehadanewsalertonNaomiPineormaybeaparenthadseenthestoryandrightawaytextedtheirkidandsaid,“Doesn’tthisgirlgotoyourschool?!?!”ormaybesomeonefollowedCNNonTwitter.Whatever,thatwashowitwasnow,howquicklywordgotout.
Crash’ssmiledidn’tflicker.“That’syourgrandmother,right?”
“Yeah,but…”
Crashbeckonedformorewithhissmile-skull-ringhand.“But?”
Matthewsaidnothing.
Crash’stonewasmocking.“DidyousaysomethingtoGrandma?”
“What?”Matthewtriedtolookoffendedbythesuggestion.“No,ofcoursenot.”
Stillsmiling—asmilethatnoweerilyechoedtheoneonhisring—CrashsteppedforwardandputhishandsonMatthew’sshoulders.Then,withouttheslightestwarning,hedrovehiskneeupward,straightintoMatthew’sgroin.CrashpulleddownonMatthew’sshouldersforextraleverage.
TheblowliftedMatthewontohistoes.
Thepainwasimmediate,whitehot,all-consuming.TearsfilledMatthew’seyes.Everypartofhisbodyshutdown.Hiskneescaved,andhecollapsedtothefloor.Thepainrosefromhisstomach,paralyzinghislungs.Matthewpulledhiskneestohischestandcurledhimselfintoafetalballonthefloor.
CrashbentdownsohismouthwasrightnearMatthew’sear.“DoyouthinkI’mstupid?”
Matthew’scheekwaspressedagainstthefloorboard.Hestillcouldn’tbreathe.Itfeltasifsomepartofhimwasirretrievablybroken,asifhewouldneverberightagain.
“YoudroveherewithLukeandMason.Theytoldmeyouwerestandingwithyourgrandmotherwhentheypickedyouup.”
Breathe,Matthewtoldhimself.Trytobreathe.
“Whatdidyoutellher,Matthew?”
Hegrittedhisteethandmanagedtoopenhiseyes.Kylewasbythedooronlookout.Suttonwasnowheretobeseen.Hadshesethimup?Wouldshereallydothatto…?No.Suttoncouldn’tknowthestorywasabouttocomeoutoranyofthat.Andshewouldn’t…
“Matthew?”
Helookedup,thepainstillrippingthroughhim.
“Wecouldkillyouandgetawaywithit.Youknowthat,right?”
Matthewstayedfrozen.Crashmadeafistandshowedhimthesilverskull.
“Whatdidyoutellyourgrandmother?”
CHAPTEREIGHT
Twofloorsabovethewinecellar,inacircularturretonthewesternwingofthemassiveestate,DashMaynardandhiswife,Delia,satinburgundyleatherwingbackarmchairsinfrontofanoversizedfireplacewithceramic“whitebirch”logsandgas-fedflames.Thisroom,anadditionthey’dputonthreeyearsago,wasthe“BeautyandtheBeast”libraryandfeaturedfloor-to-ceilingbuilt-inoakbookshelveswitharollingladderoncopperrails.
DashMaynardreadabiographyonTeddyRoosevelt.Helovedhistory,alwayshad,thoughhehadnointerest,thankyouverymuch,inbeingapartofit.Beforehehitithugewiththebothfamousandinfamousself-helptalkshowTheRustyShowandtheninanewgenrethatthenetworksdubbed“upscalegame-ality”—anawkwardblendof“gameshow”and“reality”—DashMaynardhadbeenanaward-winningdocumentaryfilmmaker.He’dwonanEmmyforhissearingPBSshortontheNankingmassacreof1937.Dashlovedresearchandinterviewsandon-locationfilming,buthe’dexcelledintheeditingroom,abletotakecountlesshoursofvideoandturnitintoacompellingnarrative.
DeliaReeseMaynard,thechairofthepoliticalsciencedepartmentatnearbyRestonCollege,readthroughstudentessays.Dashlikedtowatchherwhenhiswifereadstudentpapers—thefurrowofthebrow,thethinningofherlips,theslownodwhenshegotexcitedaboutasection.Overthesummer,DashandDelia—DoubleDs,somejokinglycalledthem—hadcelebratedtheirtwenty-fifthweddinganniversarybytakingtheirsixteen-year-oldsonCrashandtheirfourteen-year-oldtwindaughtersKieraandKaraontheiryachtthroughtheBaltics.Duringtheday,they’dsetdowntheanchorinasecludedislandcovetoswimandjet-skiandwakeboard.Intheafternoonsandevenings,theytouredportsofcalllikeSaintPetersburgandStockholmandRiga.Ithadbeenamarveloustrip.
Dashthoughtofthattimenow,thatfamilyvacationawayfromthisdamncountry,asthecalmbeforethestorm.
Theywereluckypeople.Heknewthat.Peoplelikedtoclassifythemas“Hollywoodelites,”butDashhadbeenbornandraisedinamodestthree-familytownhouseintheBedford-StuyvesantneighborhoodofBrooklyn.BothhisparentshadtaughtatHunterCollege’smaincampusinManhattan.Dash’snamecamefromhisfather’sfavoriteauthor,DashiellHammett.HeandDeliafirstbonded—reallybonded—overoldmysterynovelswhentheybrowsedfirsteditionsofRaymondChandler,AgathaChristie,NgaioMarsh,andofcourse,DashiellHammettataused-bookstoreinWashington,DC.Atthetime,thetwobarelypaidpoliticalinternsworkingonCapitolHillcouldn’taffordanyfirsteditions.Nowthisveryroomhousedoneofthegreatestcollectionsintheworld.
Astheysay,lifecomesatyoufast.
DashandDeliahadspentthelasttenyears,sinceDash’sproductioncompanyhadreallyhititbigwithaprime-timeshowwherebig-namecelebritiesdisguisethemselvesas“ordinary”Americansandliveamongstthemforsixmonths,tryingtobalancethefameandmoneythingwiththecorevaluesoffamilyandstudythattheybothrevered.Itwasaconstantlyevolvingcalibration.
Thebalancehadworkedforthemostpart.Sure,Crashwasalittlespoiledandactedout,whileKierahadsomemildissueswithdepression,butthatseemedtobethenormtoday.Asacouple,DashandDeliacouldnothavebeencloser.Thatwaswhynightslikethis—hissonthrowingasmallpartydownstairswhilehisparentsenjoyedthequietofeachother—meantsomuchtothem.
Dashlovedthis.Hereveledinit.Hewantedtolivetherestofhislifethisway.
Buthecouldn’t.
Therewasaknockonthelibrarydoor.GavinChambers,aformerMarinecolonelwhonowworkedintheever-expandingprivatesecurityindustry,steppedintotheroombeforeDashhadachancetosay,“Comein.”ChambersstilllookedthelongtimeMarine—thebuzzcut,theramrodposture,thesteadygaze.
“What’sthematter?”Dashasked.
ChamberslookedoveratDelia,asthoughmaybeitwouldbebestifthelittleladyleft.Dashfrowned.Deliadidn’tmove.
“Goon,”Dashsaid.
“Atelevisionreportjustaired,”Chamberssaid.“There’sayounggirlmissing.HernameisNaomiPine.”
DashlookedatDelia.Deliashrugged.
“And?”
“NaomigoestoschoolwithCrash.Theyareinseveralclassestogether.”
“I’mstillnotsure—”
“She’sbeencommunicatingwithyourson.Textsmostly.Alsothejournalistwhoreportedhermissingjustnow?HernameisHesterCrimstein.HergrandsonMatthewisdownstairswithCrash.”
Deliaputthestudentpapersdownonthesidetable.“Istilldon’tseehowthisconnectstous,Colonel.”
Chamberssaid,“NeitherdoI…”
“So?”
“…yet.”Thenforemphasis,Chambersrepeatedthesentence:“NeitherdoIyet.”Hestoodatattentionandstaredstraightahead.“Butwithallduerespect,Idon’tbelieveincoincidences,especiallyrightnow.”
“Whatdoyouthinkweshoulddoaboutit?”
“IthinkweneedtotalktoyoursonandfigureouthisrelationshiptoNaomi—”Hisphonebuzzed.Heputittohisearwithasnap,almostasthoughheweresalutingasuperiorofficer.“Yes?”
Afterthreeseconds,GavinChamberspocketedthephone.
“Don’tleavethisroom,”hetoldthem.“There’sbeenanincident.”
***
RacingalongSkylineDrivetowardMaynardManor—man,whatapompousname—WildehopedtofeelhisphonebuzzwithanothertextfromMatthew.
Itdidn’t.
ThelasttextjustkeptcomingbacktoWilde,tauntinghim:Somethingbadisgoingdown.
Wildemightnotgowithhisgut—thatwaswhathe’dtoldHester—butasheturnedintothemanor’sdriveway,everyinstincttoldhimthatheshouldpayheedtothatmessage.
Somethingbadisgoingdown.
MaynardManorsatatopthirtyacresofdisputedmountaintheRamapoughpeopleclaimedastheirown.Therewerebarnsforadozenhorsesandatrackforsteeplejumpingandapoolandatenniscourtandwhoknewwhatelse.ThecenterpiecewasanenormousClassicalRevivalGeorgianhome,builtbyanoiltycoonintheRoaringTwenties.Theupkeeponthethirty-five-roomestatehadbeensosteepthatthemanorhadfallenintodisrepairfornearlyaquartercentury,untilDashMaynard,megatelevisionproducerandcable-networkowner,andhiswife,Delia,sweptinandbroughttheplacebacktoitsformersplendorandthensome.
FromtheornategatewhereWildehadtostop,themanorhousewasstillasolidquarter-miledriveupthemountain.Wildecouldseesomedistantlights,butthatwasaboutit.Hepressedtheintercombuttonwhilecheckinghisphone,hopingmaybehejustdidn’tfeelthebuzz.
NothingfromMatthew.
Hesentanothertext:I’mattheguardgate.
“MayIhelpyou?”theintercomsaid.
Wildehadhisdriver’slicenseout.Heheldituptothecamera.
“I’mhereforMatthewCrimstein.”
Silence.
“MatthewisafriendofCrash’s.”
“What’syourrelationshiptohim?”
“ToMatthew?”
“Yes.”
Oddquestion.“I’mhisgodfather.”
“Andwhatisthepurposeofyourvisit?”
“I’mheretopickhimup.”
“HearrivedinMasonPerdue’svehicle.Weweretoldthathewasleavingwithhim.”
“Well,theplanshavechanged.”
Silence.
Wildesaid,“Hello?”
“Onemoment,please.”
Timepassed.
Wildehittheintercombuttonagain.
Noreply.
Hepresseddownonthebuttonandhelditdown.
Nothing.
Hecheckedforwiresnearthegate.None.Thefencehadnoelectrocutionsetup.Thatwasgood.Itwashighwithspikedtops,butnoneofthatwouldbeanissue.Thereweresecuritycameras,ofcourse,lotsofthem.Thatdidn’tmattertohimeither.Ifanything,hewantedtobeseen.
Wildethrewthecarintoparkandsteppedout.Heeyedthegate.Twelvefeethigh,heguessed.Barsspacedsixinchesapart.Theseamwherebothhalvesofthemetalgatemetwouldbethewaytogo.Thickerbar.Getarunningstart.Justupandover.Wildehadspenthislifeclimbing—mountains,trees,rocks,walls,asachild,asacivilian,asasoldier.Thisgate,evenwiththespikesontopofeverybar,wouldofferhimlittleresistance.
Hetooktwolargestepstowardthegatewhenheheardthevoicefromthespeakersay,“Halt.Donot—”
Hedidn’theartherest.
Wildeleapt,hisfoothittingthebarinmidstride.Hehoistedhimselfup,asthoughrunningvertically,grabbedthebarswithbothhands,andtuckedhislegs.Hespun,letgowithhislefthand,andputhisfeetout.Thesolesofhisshoeshitthebarsontheotherside,slowinghim.Heletgoanddroppedtothegroundastwocarsspedtowardhim.
Notonecar.Two.
Thatseemedlikeoverkill.
Ormaybenot.DashMaynardhadbeeninthenewslately.Rumorhadit—arumorDashMaynardadamantlydenied—thathevideoedeverythingwhenpeoplewereonhisshows,includingconversationsinthedressingrooms.Rumorfurtherhaditthatthesevideoscouldtakedownalotoftopcelebritiesandpoliticians,mostnotablyformerself-helpguruandcurrentUnitedStatessenatorRustyEggers,thebuddingtyrantrunningforpresidentandgainingground.
Bothcarspointedtheirheadlightsathimandscreechedtoastop.Fourmen,twofromeachcar,gotout.Wildekepthishandsoutwheretheycouldseethem.Thelastthinghewantedwasforsomeonetodosomethingstupid.
Thetwofromhisleft,bigmen,begantoapproachhim.Theybothhadtheirchestspuffedout,theirarmsswingingwithalittletoomuchalphapreening.Oneworeahoodie.Theother,theonesportingdyed-Thorlocks,hadasuitjacketthatdidn’tfitwell.
Didn’tfitwell,Wildenoted,becausehehadagunholsterundertheleftarmpit.
Wildehadknowntoomanyguyslikethesetwo.Theywouldn’tbeanissue,exceptfortheweapon.Hebracedhimself,siftingthroughhisoptions,butthemanwhogotoutofthecarontheright—close-croppedgrayhair,militarybearing—heldupahandandstoppedthem.Clearlytheleader.
“Heythere,”GrayHairshoutedtoWilde.“Nicefencehop.”
“Thanks.”
“Pleasekeepyourhandsvisibleatalltimes.”
“I’mnotarmed.”
“Wecan’tletyougoanyfarther.”
“Idon’thaveanyinterestingoinganyfarther,”Wildesaid.“I’mhereformygodson,MatthewCrimstein.”
“Iunderstand.Butwehaveapolicy.”
“Policy?”
“Alltheminorswhoenteredtonighthadtoinformusofhowtheywereleaving,”hebegan,theveryvoiceofreason.“Weclearlyexplainedtothemthatnooneisallowedinunlesstheyarespecificallyinvitedorproperlyvetted.MatthewCrimsteincameinwithMasonPerdue.ThatwaswhoMatthewtoldushewouldbeleavingwith.Nowyoushowupunannounced…”
Hespreadhishands,notonlythevoiceofreasonbuttheveryessenceofreason.“Doyouseeourdilemma?”
“SocontactMatthew.”
“Wehaveapolicyaboutnotdisturbingsocialgatherings.”
“Lotsofpolicies,”Wildesaid.
“Helpskeeptheorder.”
“Iwanttoseemygodson.”
“I’mafraidthatwon’tbepossibleatthistime.”Thegatebehindhimopened.“I’mgoingtohavetoaskyoutoleavenow.”
“Yeah,that’snothappening.”
GrayHairmighthavesmiled.
“I’mgoingtoaskyouonemoretime.”
“Matthewtextedmetopickhimupnow.Sothat’swhatI’mdoing.”
“Ifyou’lljustgobacktotheothersideofthegate—”
“Yeah,again,that’snothappening.”
Thebigguysdidn’tlikeWilde’sattitude.Theyfurrowedtheirratherenormousbrows.Dyed-ThorturnedtoGrayHair,hopingforpermissiontotakethistothenextlevel.
“Youhavenolegalstanding,Mr.Wilde.”Theuseofhisnamethrewhim,butonlyforamillisecond.He’dshownhisdriver’slicenseatthegate.“You’renottheboy’sfather,areyou?”
GrayHairsmiled.Heknewtheanswer,morespecificallythanjustthepartaboutWildebeingMatthew’sgodfather,whichmeantsomehowheknewthehistory.
“Moretothepoint,you’reatrespasserwhoillegallyscaledoursecurityfence.”
Theyalltookastepcloser.Wildestaredstraightahead,attheleader,butusinghisperipheralvision,hecouldseeThorsidlealittlecloser,hunchingdownlikehewassomesortofinvisibleninja.Wildedidn’tshifthiseyes.
GrayHairsaid,“Wewouldbewithinourrightstomeetyourthreatwithphysicalforce.”
Sotheyweretherenow,allofthem,standingonthesamenarrowprecipiceoffwhichsomanymenovertheentirecourseofhumanhistoryhadslippedandthenplungedintobloodyviolence.Wildestilldidn’tbelievethattheywouldgothere,thattheywouldriskabigincidentwhichmightmakethenewsorsocialmediaandawakenwhatevercontroversyhadfinallyquieteddown.Butyouneverknow.Thatwasthethingwiththeprecipice.Itwasslippery.Thebest-laidplansdoindeedgoawry.
Manmaybeevilorgood,thatwasn’ttheissue.Theissuewasthatmanrarelyconsideredtheconsequencesofhisactions.
Inshort,manwasoftenjustplainstupid.
Thatwaswhenitallchanged.
Atfirst,thechangewasnoticedonlybyWilde.Forscantseconds,theknowledgewashisandhisalone.Twoseconds,maybethree,nomore.Then,heknew,thisadvantage—andthechangewouldbe,hehoped,anadvantage—wouldbenullandvoid.
WildefeltwhathehadcometoknowasTheDisturbance.
Therewerethosewhocalleditanomenoraharbingerorapremonition,somethingthatgavehisalreadyheightenedcapabilitiesasupernaturalundertone.Butthatwasn’tit.Notreally.Overthemillenniums,manhasadaptedbothforbetterandworse.Arecentexample:NavigationGPS.Studiesshowthatpartsofourbrain—thehippocampus(theregionusedfornavigation)andtheprefrontalcortex(associatedwithplanning)arealreadychanging,perhapsevenatrophying,becausewenowrelyonGPSnavigation.That’shappenedinafewyears.Buttakethewholespectrumofmankind’shistory,howwesatincavesandforests,sleepingfigurativelywithoneeyeopen,noprotection,ourprimitivesurvivalinstinctinoverdrive,andthenthinkofhowthathassoftenedanderodedovertheyearswiththeadventofhomesandlockeddoorsandcivilization’sgiveandtake.ButWildedidn’thavethat.Fromthetimehecouldremember,Wildegrewupwiththoseprimitiveimpulsesawakened.Heunderstoodbeforehecouldarticulateitthatapredatorcouldattackatanytime.Helearnedtosenseit,tobeattunedtoanysortofDisturbance.
Youstillseethisinnature,ofcourse,inanimalswithsupersensitivehearingorsmellorsight,whofleebeforethedangergetstooclose.Wildehadthisabilitytoo.
Sohe’dheardthesound.Nooneelsehad.Yet.
Itwasjustarustling.Thatwasall.Butsomeonewasrunningtowardthem.Morethanoneprobably.Someonewasindangerandsprintingfast.Someoneelsewasgivingchase.
WithoutsomuchasglancingawayfromGrayHair,WildeglidedalittleclosertoThor.Hewantedtobeasclosetothearmedmanaspossible.
Asecondlater,nomore,Wildeheardthescream:“Help!”
Matthew.
ThiswaswhereWildehadtofightoffhisinstinctsandlethistrainingtakeover.Instincttoldhimtoruntowardhisgodson’scry.Thatwouldbethenaturalreaction.ButWildehadbracedforthismoment.Thescream,comingfrombehindGrayHairandupthehilltowardthehouse,madeallheadsturn.That,too,wasnaturalandexpected.Ifyouhadn’tknownthatthescreamwasapossibility,youcouldn’thelpbutreact.
ThorlookedinthedirectionofMatthew’sscreamtoo.
AndawayfromWilde.
ThatwasalltheopeningWildeneeded.Theresttookasecond,nomore.Spinningwithhisleftelbowattheready,WildestruckThorinthesideofhishead.Atthesametime,beforeThorcouldstumbleback,Wilde’srighthanddoveintotheopeningofthejacket.HisfingersfoundthebuttofthegunintheholsterunderThor’sarm.
BythetimeMatthewyelled“Help!”forasecondtime,Thorwasontheground,andWildehadthegunupandaimed,movingthemuzzlebetweenGrayHairandtheothertwomen.
Wildesaid,“BreathewrongandI’llshootyoudead.”
Fromtheground,Thorgroanedandlungedtowardhim.Wildekickedhiminthehead.Theslappingoffeetondrivewaydrewcloser.Forasecond,theyallwaited.Matthewturnedthecorner,sprintingseeminglyforhislife,twootherboysnotfarbehindhim.
Matthewpulledup,alookofconfusioncrossinghisface.Thetwootherboysdidthesame.
“Gothroughthegate,”WildetoldMatthew.“Getinthecar.”
“But—”
“Doit.”
Oneoftheboyssaid,“Wewerejustplaying,isall.Tellhim,Matthew.Tellhimwewerejustplaying.”
Keepinghishandsintheair,GrayHairslidinfrontoftheboyspeaking.“Staybehindme,Crash.”
“It’sjustagame,”Crashsaid.
“Agame,”Wilderepeated.
“Yeah,it’scalledMidnightSkull.”Hepointedtothesmile-skullringonhishand.“It’slikenighttag.Tellhim,Matthew.”
Matthewdidn’tmove.Hiseyeswereglassywithneartears.Inthedistance,Wildeheardacarenginestart.Reinforcements.
“Matthew,carnow!”
Matthewsnappedoutofitandhurriedtowardthegate.Walkingbackwardsoastokeepthegunaimedatthem,Wildedidthesame.HekepthiseyesonGrayHair.Hewastheleader.Theotherswouldn’tmakeamovewithouthim.GrayHairnoddedasiftosay,It’sokay,getoutofhere,wewon’tstopyou
Tensecondslater,WildespedawaywithMatthewintheseatnexttohim.
CHAPTERNINE
Hesterwasbackinherlimowhenshesawthecallscomingin.
She’dexpectedthat.Youcan’tjustdropabomblikethisoneaboutamissinggirlandnotexpectsomethingtoexplode.Itwas,infact,herhope—thatsomeonewouldcomeforwardoractormakeamistakeordosomethingsothatthey’dknowwhatreallyhappened.Rightnow,whenyouaddedalltheprosandcons,theoptionsandpossibilities,Hesterfiguredthatthegirlhadrunoffandwasperhapscontemplatingsuicide.Nottobetoocoldandanalytical,butiftheawfultaskwerealreadycompleted,well,therewasnothinganyonecoulddo.ButifNaomihadtakenpills,forexample,orslitherwrists,ormaybeshewasjustoffsomeplace,standingontheedgeofahigh-riseorbridge,thenthiswasthebestchancetosaveher.
Thenagain—becauseyouhavetoseeeveryside—maybeHester’spushingwoulddotheopposite.Maybeitwouldmakethegirlpanicandactor,ifshewerebeingheld,maybeitwouldmakethekidnappersreactwithviolence.Hesterunderstoodtherisks.Butshewasnotawomanwhotookstockininaction.
ThefirstcallshetookhadacallerIDthatreadCHIEFWESTVILLEPOLICE.ThatwouldbeOren,shethought.
“Thatwasfast,”Hestersaid.
“Huh?”
“Imean,I’mflattered,Oren,butnexttime,waitafewdays.Itmakesyoulookalittledesperate.”
“Uh,Iamalittledesperate.Whatthehellwasthatreport,Hester?”
“Yousawit?Thanksforbeingafan.”
“DoIsoundlikeI’minthemood?”
“Somethingisn’trightwithNaomi’sdisappearance,”Hestersaid.
“Thenyoushouldcometome.”
“Idid,remember?”
“Ido.Sowhatchanged?”
“HerfathersaidNaomiwaswiththemother.Themothersaidshe’snotwithher.Herteacher—”
“Wait,youtalkedtoherteacher.”
“Artteacherorguidancecounselororsomething,Idon’tremember.Avasomething.”
“Whendidyouhavetimetotalktoher?”
Thispartwouldnotgososmoothly.“Ididn’t.Wildedid.”
Silence.
“Oren?”
“Wilde?YougotWildeinvolvedinthis?”
“Look,Oren,Iprobablyshouldhavegivenyouaheads-upbeforeIwentontheair—”
“Probably?”
“—butIhaveareallybadfeeling.Youneedtoputsomeresourcesintothis.”
Silence.
“Oren?”
“Matthewputyouontothis,”Orensaid.“Why?”
Nowitwasherturntobesilent.
“Whateveryourgrandsonishiding,hehastocomecleannow.Youknowthis.”
***
AstheyspedofffromMaynardManor,Wildeasked,“Whathappened?”
“It’slikeCrashsaid,”Matthewsaidthroughawince.Hewasstilltryingtocatchhisbreath.“Wewereplayingagame.”
“You’regoingtolietomenow?”
Matthewblinkedbackthetears.“Youcan’ttellMom.”
“I’mnotgoingto.”
“Good.”
“Becauseyouare.”
“Noway.I’lltellyou,butwecan’ttellher.”
“Sorry,itisn’tgoingtoworkthatway.”
“ThenI’mnottellingyouathing.”
“Yeah,Matthew,youare.You’regoingtotellmewhathappened.Andthenyou’regoingtotellyourmother.”
Hehunghishead.
“Matthew?”
“Okay.”
“Sowhathappened?”
“DidyouknowwhatNanawasgoingtodo?”
“Do?”
“ShewentontheairaboutNaomi.Shetoldeveryoneshe’smissing.”
Wildehadwonderedwhetherthatwasgoingtobehernextmove.Hesterhadbeenworriedaboutleadsdryingup.Whatbetterwaytobeatthebrush?
“Whatdidshesay?”
“Ididn’treallyhearit,”Matthewsaid.“ButCrashandKyleandtheothersdid.”
“Andtheygotupset?”
Matthewstartedblinking.
“Matthew?”
“Crashkneedmeintheballs.”MoretearscametoMatthew’seyes.Afewspilledout.
Wildefelthishandstightenonthesteeringwheel.
“TheywantedtoknowwhatItoldher.Irolledaway.WhenIsawanopening,Iran.”
“You’reokaynow?”
“Yeah.”
“Youwantmetotakeyoutoadoctor?”
“No,I’llbealittlesore,Iguess.”
“Mostlikely.DoesCrashhavesomethingtodowithNaomi?”
“Idon’tknow.It’s…”
“It’swhat?”
“Youcan’ttellanyone,okay?AboutNaomi.Abouttonight.”
“We’vealreadybeenthroughthis,Matthew.”
“I’llfigureouthowtotellMom.Buttomorrow,okay?TonightIdon’twanttosayanything.”
AsheturnedontoMatthew’sstreet,heheardthewhoopofasirenandthebluesquad-carlightscameon.Avoiceovertheloudspeakersaid,“Pulloverimmediately.”Theywererightdownthestreetfromthehouse,nomorethantwohundredyards,soWildesignaledoutthewindowthathewasgoingtocruiseuptoit.Thecarhitthesirenagainandspunrightalongsidethem.
Thefamiliarvoiceovertheloudspeaker—theybothknewOrenCarmichael—saidinatonethatleftnoroomforargument:“Immediately!”
ToWilde’ssurprise,Orencutthemoffwithhissquadcar,forcingthemtothecurb.Orenopenedhiscardoorandmadehiswaytowardthem.Bythetimehearrived,Wildehadthewindowdown.
“Whatthehell,Oren.Youknowweliverightdowntheblock.”
Orenarchedaneyebrow.“We?”
Mistake,Wildethought.“ImeantMatthew,thiscar.YouknowwhatImean.”
Orenlookedinsidethecar.HenoddedatMatthew.Matthewsaid,“Hey,Chief.”
“Whereareyoucomingfrom,son?”
Wildesaid,“MaynardManor.”
“Whywereyouthere?”
“Whywouldyoucare?”Wildecountered.
Orenignoredhim.“Son?”
“Iwasataparty,”Matthewsaid.
OrentookalongerlookatMatthewnow.“Youdon’tlooksogood,Matthew.”
“I’mfine.”
“Yousure?”
Wildewasn’tsurewhethertheyshouldtellOrenabouttheincidentinthehouseornot.Beforehehadachancetosayanything,Matthewsaid,“I’mfine,Coach.WewereplayingMidnightSkull.”
“What?”
“It’sliketagorsomething.Runningaroundoutside.That’swhyIlooklikethis.”
OrenCarmichaelfrowned.HeglancedatWilde.Wildegavehimnothing.ThenOrensaid,“WhydidyouaskyourgrandmothertolookforNaomiPine?”
Ah,Wildethought,sothatexplainedthesuddenstop.OrenwantedtocornerMatthewalone—awayfrombothhismotherandgrandmother,tworenownedattorneys—sohecouldgetlessevasiveresponses.
Wildesaid,“Don’tanswer.”
Orendidn’tlikethat.“What?”
“I’mtellinghimnottoanswer.”
“Youdon’thaveanylegalstandinghere,Wilde.”
“Yeah,I’vebeenhearingthatalottonight.ButI’mnotlettingyouquestionhimwithouthismotherpresent.”
“Idon’tknowwhereNaomiis,”Matthewblurtedout.“That’sthetruth.”
“Sowhydidyouaskyourgrandmothertofindher?”
“I’mjustworriedabouther,okay?Shehasn’tbeeninschooland…”
“And?”
Wildesaid,“Matthew,notanotherword.”
“Andkidspickonher,isall.”
“Areyouoneofthosekids,Matthew?”
Wildeputhishandup.“Okay,that’sit.Thisconversationisover.”
“Likehell—”
Wilderestartedthecar.
“Turnthatengineoffrightnow,”Orensnapped.
“Youcharginguswithsomething?”
“No.”
“Thenweareonourway.YoucanfollowustoMatthew’shouseifyou’dlike.”
***
ButOrendidn’tfollowthem.
AsWildepulledthecarintoLaila’sdriveway,thefrontdooropened.Itwasdarknow,butwiththelightbehindher,WildecouldmakeoutLaila’ssilhouettestandinginthedoorway.Sheheldherhanduphighandawkwardlywaved.WhenWildeandMatthewgotcloser,hecouldseethatshewasholdinghermobilephone.
“There’sacallforyou,”shesaidtoWilde.Thensheadded:“Onmyphone.”
Henodded,andshehandedittohim.Heputthephonetohisear.
“Wegood?”
ItwasGrayHair.Wildewasn’tsurprised.Theywouldhaveseenthelicenseplate.Guyswithhiskindofjuicewouldhavenotroublegettingaregistration,aname,anaddress,phonenumbersbothhomeandmobile.Lailawasthecar’sowner.Thatwouldbethenumberthey’dtry.
“Iguess,”Wildesaid.
“Crashmayhaveactedinappropriately.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Buttheboyisunderalotofpressure.Wehopeyou’llunderstand.”
“There’samissinggirl,”Wildesaid.
“Hedoesn’tknowanythingabouther.”
“Sowhy’sheunderalotofpressure?”
“Otherthings.”
“CanIaskyourname?”Wildesaid.
“Why?”
“Becauseyouknowmine.”
Therewasapause.“GavinChambers.”
“AsinChambersSecurity?AsinColonelChambers?”
“Retiredcolonel,yes.”
Whoa,Wildethought.TheMaynardswerenotmessingaroundwhenitcametosecurity.HewastemptedtomoveawaysoLailawouldn’thear,butfromthelookonherface,thatwouldonlygethiminhotwater.
“DoyouknowwhatCrashdidtoMatthew,Colonel?”
Laila’seyeswidenedwhensheheardthat.
“WehaveCCTVinthebasementarea,”Gavinreplied.
“Soyousawit?”
“Idid.Sadly,thatparticularfootagenolongerexists.Accidentaldeletion.Youknowhowitis.”
“Ido.”
“Willyouacceptourapologies?”
“Iwasn’ttheoneassaulted.”
“WillyoupleasepassthemtoyoungMatthewthen?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“It’smyjobtokeeptheMaynardssafe,Mr.Wilde.Thereismuchmoreatstakeherethanateenagebrawl.”
“Likewhat?”
ButChambersdidn’tanswer.“Iknowyou’regoodatwhatyoudo.ButI’mgoodtoo.AndIhavevastresources.Ifthereisconflictbetweenus,itprobablywon’tendwell.Therewillbecollateraldamage.DoImakemyselfclear?”
WildelookedatLailaandMatthew.Thecollateraldamage.
“I’mnotabigfanofthreats,Colonel.”
“Neitheroneofuswantstospendourliveslookingoverourshoulders,correct?”
“Correct.”
“That’swhyI’mextendingahandoffriendship.”
“Friendshipseemsabitstrong.”
“Iagree.Morelike,toquotetheFrench,détente.Youcankeepthegun,bytheway.Wehaveplentyofothers.Goodnight,Mr.Wilde.”
Hehungup.Lailasaid,“Whatthehellwasthat?”
Wildehandedherphoneback.Hismindwasworkingovertime.Theimmediatethreat—theonehe’dworriedmostabout—wasthatMaynard’sguyswouldcomeafterthem.Thatthreatseemedtobeneutralizedfornow.Matthewwashome.Hewassafe.SonowWildeturnedhisattentionbacktoNaomiPine.
ThefatherhadtoldHesterthatNaomiwaswiththemother.Thatwasalie.ItseemedobviousthatNaomi’sfatherwasthustheplacetostart.
Lailaasked,“DidthatcallhavesomethingtodowithNaomiPine?”
Matthewletoutasmallgroan.“Youknowaboutthat?”
“Everyoneknowsaboutthat.Afteryourgrandmother’sreport,theschoolsentoutanemergencytext.Alltheparentboardsonsocialmediaarelightingup.Doyouwanttotellmewhat’sgoingon,please?”
“Matthewwill,”Wildesaid,tossingherthecarkeys.“Ihavetogo.”
“Wait,gowhere?”
Itwouldtaketoolongtoexplain.“I’lltrytocomeback,ifthat’sokay.”
“Wilde?”
“Matthewwillexplain.”
Heturnedandrantowardthewoods.
CHAPTERTEN
Thereisatheory,introducedbypsychologistAndersEricssonandmadepopularbyMalcolmGladwell,thattenthousandhoursofpracticemakesyouanexpertinagivenfield.Wildedidn’tbuyit,thoughheunderstoodtheappealinthesimplicityofsuchencouragingpopslogans.
Hespednowthroughthewoods,hiseyesalreadyaccustomedtothedark.TheorieslikeEricsson’sdidn’ttakeintoaccountintensityandimmersion.Wildehadrunthroughwoodslikethesesincebeforehecouldremember.Alone.Adapting.Surviving.Itwasn’tpractice.Itwaslife.Itwasingrained.Itwassurvival.Yes,thehoursmattered.Butintensitymattersmore.Imagineifyouhavenochoice.Ifyouhikethroughtheforestforfunorbecauseyourdadlikesit,itisn’tthesameasbeingforciblyimmersed,ofknowingthewoodswellordying.Youcan’tfakethat.Amandoesanexperiment,triestoseewhatit’sliketobeblind,sohecovershiseyes—no,sorry,thatisn’tthesamethingasbeingblind.Youcanalwaystaketheblindfoldoff.It’svoluntaryandcontrolledandsafe.Somecoachestellkidstoplayliketheirlifedependsonit.That’sprobablysoundmotivationaladvice,butifyourlifedoesn’tdependonit—anditdoesn’t—theintensitywillpalecomparedtotherealthing.
Thebestathletes?Itislifeanddeath,intheirminds.Nowimaginehowmuchbetterthey’dbeifthestakeswerereallythathigh.
ThatwasWildeinthewoods.
AshegotclosertothePineresidence,hespottedasquadcarandthreenewsvansfromlocalstations.Thescenewasn’tfrantic—thiswasn’tthebiggeststoryoftheyearoranythinglikethat—butthenewsvanhadobviouslyheardHester’sreportandthecopshadinturnaskedthemtomovedowntheblockawayfromthehouse.WildespottedOrenCarmichaelbythePines’frontdoor,talkingtoaguywhohadtobethefather,BernardPine.Thefatherseemedupset,notaboutamissingdaughterbutaboutthepoliceandmediaintrusion.HegesturedwildlywhileCarmichaelkeptshowinghimhispalmstocalmhimdown.
Wilde’sphonedouble-buzzed,indicatinganincomingtext.HecheckedandsawitwasfromAvaO’Brien:
DidyoufindNaomi?
Hewastemptednottoreply.Butthatdidn’tfeelright.Notyet.
Therewasthemoving-dotspause.ThenAvawrote:Comeovertonight.I’llleavethedoorunlocked.
Moremovingdots:Imissyou,Wilde.
Hepocketedthephonewithoutareply.Avawouldgetthemessage,muchashehatedtosenditthisway.
Wildecreptoutofthewoods.Hekeptlowandheadedtowardtheneighboringbackyard.Noonespottedhim.Hestayeddown.Naomi’sfatherfinishedwhateverhehadtosaytoOrenandslammedthedoor.Forseveralseconds,OrenCarmichaeldidn’tmove,almostasifheexpectedthedoortoreopen.Whenitdidn’t,heturnedawayandheadedforhiscar.Anothercop—thisonefaryounger—methimthere
“Keepthepressback,”Carmichaelsaid.
“Yes,Chief.Arewegoingin?”
Orenfrowned.“Goingin?”
“Youknow,likedoingasearchofthehouse.”
“Thefathersaysshe’ssafe.”
“ButthatreporteronTV—”
“ATVreportisnotevidence,”Orensnapped.“Getthepressoutofhere.”
“Yes,Chief.”
Whenthekidleft,Wildesawnoharm.Hestooduprightandapproachedthecar.Becausehe’dhadenoughwithitchyfingers,hecalledoutassoonashecouldpossiblybeseen.“Oren?”
Carmichaelturned.Whenhesawwhoitwas,hefrowned.“Wilde?Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“WhatdidthefathersayaboutNaomi?”
“Notyourbusiness,isit?”
“YouknowheliedtoHester,right?”
OrenCarmichaelsighed.“WhyonearthdidHesterinvolveyouinthis?”
“ThefathertoldHesterthatNaomiiswithhermother.”
“Andmaybesheis.”
“Isthatwhathetoldyoujustnow?”
“Hesaidshe’ssafe.Heaskedmetorespectherprivacy.”
“Andyou’regoingtodothat?”
“Neitherparenthasfiledamissingpersonreport.”
“So?”
“Soit’salmostmidnight.Youwantmetokickhisdoordown?”
“Naomicouldbeindanger.”
“Andwhat,youthinkthefatherkilledherorsomething?”
Wildedidn’tanswer.
“Exactly,”Orensaid,clearlyexhaustedbyitall.“Thisisagirlwhohasrunawaybefore.Myguess?That’swhatthisis.”
“Maybeit’ssomethingworse.”
Orenslidintothedriver’sseat.“Ifthat’strue,we’llfindthatout,too,eventually.”Hestaredupfromthesquadcar.“Gohome,Wilde.”
HedroveoffasWildeheadedbacktothewoods.Hestoppedbehindthefirsttreeandslippedonathinblackmaskthatcoveredeverythingexcepthiseyes.Hekeptitwithhimalways.TheworldnowhadmoreCCTVcamerasthanpeople.Orsoitseemed.Youneverknow.SoWilde,whohadathingaboutprivacyinthisprivacylessworld,alwayscameprepared.
WhenOren’ssquadcarwasoutofsight,WildecircledbacksothathewasnowbehindthePinehouse.Therewerelightsoninthekitchen,oneupstairsbedroom,andinthebasement.Asachild,hehadbrokenintocountlesslakehomesandsummercabins.He’dlearnedtosilentlycasethem,circlethem,checkthedrivewaysandlights,seewhoifanyonewashome.Tobreakin,he’dsearchforunlockeddoorsorwindows(you’dbesurprisedhowoftenitwasthatsimple),thenmoveontoothermeans.Ifthelocksweretoostrongorthealarmsystemtoocomplicated,youngWildewouldsearchforanotherhouse.Mostofthetime,evenasachild,hehadknowntoleavenotraceofhisbeingthere.Ifhesleptinabed,forexample,hemadesurethatitwasmadethenextmorning.Ifheatetheirfoodorneededsupplies,hewascarefulnottoconsumeorstealtoomuch,sothattheownerswouldn’tnotice.
Hadsomeonetaughthimallthiswhenhewastooyoungtoremember?Orwasitinstinctive?Hedidn’tknow.Intheend,manisananimal.Ananimaldoeswhatithastodotosurvive.
Itwasprobablythatsimple.
Thephoneinhispocketbuzzed.Thephonewasapersonallydesignedburner.Thatwasallheusedandneverformorethanaweekortwo.Atnight,heturneditoff.Hedidn’tkeepitwithhim—heknewthat,evenwhenthephonewasoff,itwaspossibletotrace—andusuallyleftitburiedinasteelboxbytheroad.
ItwasHester:“AreyouwithLaila?”
“No.”
“Whereareyouthen?”
“CasingNaomi’shouse.”
“Youhaveaplan?”
“Ido.”
“Tellme.”
“Youdon’twanttoknow,”hesaid.
Wildehungupandmovedclosertothehouse.Loadsofhomesnowhadmotiondetectorlightsthatsnaponwhenyouapproach.Ifthatweretobethecase,Wildewouldsimplysprintbackintothewoods.Noharm,nofoul.Butnolightscameon.Good.Hekeptclosetothehouse.Theclosertothewall,thelesschanceofbeingseen.
Hecheckedthekitchenwindow.BernardPine,Naomi’sfather,satatthetableandplayedwithhisphone.Helookednervous.Wildecircledtheperimeterandpeeredinthroughthefirst-floorwindows.Nooneelsepresent,noothermovement.
Wildebentdownandcheckedthebasementwindows.Theshadesweredrawnalltheway—blackoutshades—butWildestillspottedthesmallsliveroflight.
Someonedowntheremaybe?
Hehadlittletroubleclimbingontothesecond-flooroverhang.Heworriedaboutthestructure,ifitcouldholdhisweight,buthedecidedtoriskit.Therewasalightinacorridorthatshonethroughwhatappearedtobethefather’sbedroom.Heclimbedtowardthecornerbackwindow,cuppedhishandsagainsttheglass,andlookedintotheroom.
Acomputermonitordisplayingadancing-linesscreensaverprovidedtheonlyillumination.Thewallswereblank.Therewerenopostersofteenheartthrobsorfavoriterockgroupsoranyoftheexpectedteenagegirlclichés,except,perhaps,thebed,whichwaslowtothefloorandblanketedwithstuffedanimals—dozensofthem,maybehundreds,invarioussizesandcolors,mostlybearsbutthereweregiraffesandmonkeysandpenguinsandelephants.ItwashardtoseehowNaomicouldfitinthebedwithallofthem.Shemusthavejustjumpedin,likeshewaslivinginsideoneofthoseclaw-cranearcadegames.
Naomiwasanonlychild,soWildewasprettysurethatthiswasherbedroom.
Thewindowwaslockedwithavinylleversashlockwithkeeper.Routinesecurityforasecond-floorroom.Mostburglarsdon’tscalewallstoreachsecondfloors.Wildewas,ofcourse,different.Hereachedintohiswalletandpluckedoutaloid—shortfor“celluloid”—card.Betterthanacreditcard.Moreflexible.Heslidtheloidbetweenthetwosashframesandmovedtheleverintotheunlockedposition.Itwasthatsimple.Fivesecondslater,hewasinsidetheroom.
Sonowwhat?
Quickcheckoftheclosetrevealedthefollowing:apinkFj?llr?venK?nkenbackpackonthetopshelf,clothesneatlyhung,nobarehangers.Meaning?Hewasn’tsure.Thebackpackwasempty.Ifshe’drunaway,wouldn’tshehavepackedit?Wouldn’ttherebesomesignsofmissingclothes?
Nothingconclusive,butinteresting.
Therewasatime,Wildeimagined,whereitwouldpaytocheckthedeskdrawersorperhapslookunderthepillowormattressforadiary,butnowadaysmostteenskeeptheirsecretsintheirtechdevices.Thephonewouldbebettertosearch,ofcourse,theplacewestoreourlives,andno,thatwasn’tacommentontoday’syouth.Adultstoo.Mankindhassurrenderedanypretenseofprivacytothosedevicesforthesakeof…hardtosaywhat.Convenience,heguessed.Artificialconnectionsmaybe,whichmightbebetterthannoconnectionatall.
Butitwasnotforhim.Thenagain,realconnectionsdidn’tseemtobehisbageither.
HadthepolicetriedtopingNaomi’slocationviaherphone?
Maybe.Probably.Eitherway,hetextedHestertogiveitatry.
Naomi’sdesktopcomputerhadbeenleftrunning.Hemovedthemouse,afraidthattheremightbeapasswordblockingaccess.Therewasn’t.Hebroughtupherwebbrowser.Naomi’semailinformation—nameandpassword—hadbeensavedforeasyaccess.ShewasNaomiFlavuh,whichseemedsweetandalittlesad.Heclickedandgotinrightaway.Healmostrubbedhishandstogether,hopingthathehadhitthemotherlode.Hehadn’t.Theemailscouldn’thavebeenmoreinnocuous—classassignments,collegerecruitmentspams,couponsandoffersfromtheGapandTargetandretailersunknowntoWildewithnameslikeForever21andPacSun.Kidstoday,heknewfromhisinteractionswithMatthew,textorusesomesortofparent-proofapp.Theydon’temail.
Hestoppedforamomentandlistened.Nothing.Noonecomingupthestairs.Hemovedthemouse’scursoruptothetopandhitthehistorybutton.HehopedthatNaomihadn’tclearedhercacherecently.
Shehadn’t.
ThereweresearchesoneBayforstuffedanimals.TherewerelinkstoforumsandRedditsthattalkedaboutcollectingstuffedanimals.Wildeglancedbehindhimatthebed.Thestuffedanimalshadbeenlaidoutwithsomecare.Severalanimalsstaredbackathim.Hethoughtaboutthatforasecond,aboutthisgirlwhohadbeenbulliedallherlife,howshemusthaverushedhomeafterschool,fleeingthetauntsandabuse,maybeleapinghighontoherbed,escapingintothislonely,self-createdmenagerie.
Thethoughtfloodedhimwithasurprisingrage.
Peoplehadbulliedthisgirlherwholelife.Ifsomeonedidmoretoher,ifsomeonewenttheextramileorforcedhertodosomethingdesperate…
Hebottleditandturnedbacktothetaskathand.Hestillhadthemaskonhisface.IfbysomechanceBernardPineweretocomeupstairsorspothim—unlikely,really—Wildewouldblowpasthimandrunaway.Therewouldbenothingtoidentifyhim.Hisheightandbuild—sixfeet,oneeighty-five—wouldgivethemnothing.
Whoa.Paydirt.
Naomihadbeenresearchingherclassmates.Thereweresix,maybesevenofthem,buttwonamesstuckoutrightaway.OnewasMatthew’s.TheotherwasCrashMaynard’s.ThesearchesonMatthew—aswellashisotherclassmates—weresurfaceandquick.Didthismeananything?OrdidteensGoogleeachotherallthetime?Youmeetsomeone,yousearchonlineaboutthem.Ofcourse,Naomihadknownthesekidsforever.Shehadgrownupwiththem,gonetoschoolwiththem,beenavictimoftheirtauntsandblows.
Sowhynow?
HeskimmeddownthroughtherestofherGooglesearches.Nothingmuchstoodout,exceptforanoddtwo-wordsearchfollowedbyanoddthree-wordsearch:
challengegamechallengegamemissing
Hefocusedontheaddedword:Missing.
Heclickedthroughthelinks.Ashestartedreading,hisheartsank.Hewasmidwaythroughthepageswhenheheardanoisethatstartledhim.
Footsteps.
Notclose.Notcominguptowardhim.Thatwaswhatwasodd.Therewasonlyonepersoninthehouse.Thefather.BernardPine.Hewasinthekitchen.Butthesestepsweren’tcomingfromthekitchen.Infact,nowthathethoughtaboutit,hehadnotheardasoundcomingfromdownstairstheentiretimehehadbeenuphere.
Thefootstepswerefaint.Theywerecomingfrominsidethehouse,but…
Wildecloseddownthebrowserandslippedacrosstheroomandintothecorridor.Helookeddownthestairs.Thefootstepswerelouder.Wildecouldhearavoicenow.SoundedlikeBernardPine.Whowashetalkingto?Wildecouldn’tmakeoutthewords.Hecreptclosertothetopofthestairssohecouldhearbetter.
Thedoorbeneaththestairsflewopen.
Thebasementdoor.
Wildejumpedback.Thevoicewasclearnow,easytounderstand.
“Itwasonthegoddamnnews!Thatwomanwasheretoo.Whatdoyoumean,who?ThatlawyerfromTV,theonewhodidthereport.”
BernardPineclosedthebasementdoorbehindhim.
“Thecopsjustcame.Yes,thechief,Carmichael,heknockedonthedoor.They’reprobablystill…”Wildehadhisbackpressedagainstthewall,butheriskedalook.BernardPinehadhismobilephoneinonehand.Withtheother,hepushedasideacurtainandlookedoutintohisfrontyard.
“Idon’tseethemrightnow,no.ButIcan’t…Imean,Carmichaelmightberightdowntheblock,watching.Therewerenewsvansheretoo.…Weareprobablybeingwatched.”
We?Wildethought.
UnlessPineconsideredhimselfroyalty,“we”meantmorethanoneperson.ExceptthatWildehadcasedthehouse.Hehadonlyspottedoneperson.BernardPine.Ifsomeoneelsewashere,therewasonlyoneplacethatpersoncouldbe.
Thebasement.
“Yeah,Larry,Iknowyoutoldmenottodothis,butIdidn’tthinkIhadachoice.Idon’twanttogetcaught.That’sthebigthingnow.”
PinehurrieduptowardthestairwellwhereWildestoodonthelanding.Hewashustlingnow,jumpingthestepstwoatatime.Relyingonreflexes,WildedovebackintoNaomi’sbedroomandrolledtowardacorner.Pinepassedhimonthelandingwithoutglancingintohisdaughter’sroom.
Thebasement,Wildethought.
Hedidn’twaitlong.ThemomentPinewaspastthedoorandinhisownbedroom,Wildecameout.Movingontheballsofhisfeet—notthetoes,thetoesmadenoise—hepaddeddownthesteps.Hespuntohisrightandcametothebasementdoor.Hetriedtheknob.Itturned.
Heopenedthebasementdoorsilently,steppedinside,closeditbehindhim.
Therewasafaintlightbelowhim.Wildehadtwochoiceshere.ChoiceOne:Tiptoedownthestepsandsneakslowlytowardwhateverwastobefound.ChoiceTwo:Goforit.
WildewentforChoiceTwo.
Hetookoffhismaskandstrolleddownthecellarstairs.Hedidn’tdisguiseit.Hedidn’thurrynordidhedawdle.WhenWildearrivedatthebottom,heturnedtowardthelight.
Naomiopenedhermouth.
“Don’tscream,”Wildesaidtoher.“I’mheretohelpyou.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
Thebasementhadbeenfinishedonthecheap.Thewallswerefauxwoodmadeofsomekindofvinyl,stuckupontheconcretewithadhesive.Thesofawasahand-me-downconvertiblethatwasrightnowopenintoaqueen-sizedbed.
Itwasblanketedwithstuffedanimals.
NaomiPinesatonthesofa’sarmrest,hershouldersslumped,hereyesdown,sothatherhairhunginfrontofherfacelikeabeadedcurtain.Shewasn’tskinny,whichintoday’sworldwastosayshewasprobablyoverweight,butWildedidn’treallyknow.Shewasneitherprettynorugly,andwhileherlooksshouldbeirrelevant,theyweren’t,notintherealworldandespeciallynotintheteenworld.Sohelookedather,atherwholebeing,anditstirredhisheart.Intruth,ifhecouldbetotallyobjectiveandmaybeitwasthehistoryofthesituationtalking,NaomiPinelooked,aboveallelse,likeaneasytarget.Thatwasindeedthevibe.Somepeoplelooksmartordumborstrongorcruelorweakorbraveorwhatever.Naomilookedlikeshewasalwaysinmid-cringe,asthoughshewereaskingtheworldnottohither,andthatjustmadetheworldsneerinherface.
“Iknowyou,”Naomisaid.“You’retheboyfromthewoods.”
Notexactlyaccurate.Ormaybeitwas.
“YournameisWilde,right?”
“Yes.”
“You’reourboogieman,youknow.”
Wildesaidnothing.
“Like,parentstelllittlekidsnottogointhewoodsbecausetheWildManwillgrabthemandeatthemorsomething.Andlike,whenkidstellghoststoriesortrytoscareeachother,you’rekindathestaroftheshow.”
“Terrific,”Wildesaid.“Areyouscaredofme?”
“No.”
“Whynot?”
“I’mdrawntooutcasts,”shesaid.
Hetriedtosmile.“Metoo.”
“YoueverreadToKillaMockingbird?”sheaskedhim.
“Yes.”
“You’relikeourBooRadley.”
“IguessthatwouldmakeyouScout.”
“Yeah,right,”Naomisaidwitharollofhereyes,andhisheartfeltitagain
“WhoisLarry?Iheardyourdadonthephone.”
“He’smyuncle.HelivesinChicago.”Naomiloweredherhead.“Areyougoingtotell?”
“No.”
“Soyou’lljustleave?”
“Ifyouwant.”Wildemovedclosertoherandmadehistoneasgentleashecould.“TheChallenge,”hesaid.
Naomilookedupathim.“Howdoyouknowaboutthat?”
He’dseenitonhercomputer,buthe’dalsorememberedreadingaboutitafewyearsback.Thearticlehadcalleditthe48-Hour-Challenge,thoughitwaslaterdismissedasanurbanlegend.Itwasanonlinegameofsorts,albeitafairlyawfulone.Teenswouldvanishonpurposesothattheirparentswouldpanicandthinkthattheirchildhadbeenkidnappedorworse.Thelongeryou“disappeared,”themorepointsyou’daccumulate.
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”Wildesaid.“Youwereplayingit,right?”
“Istilldon’tunderstand.Whyareyouhere?”
“Iwaslookingforyou.”
“Why?”
“Someonewasworried.”
“Who?”
Hehesitated.Thenhefigured,whynot.“MatthewCrimstein.”
Shemayhavesmiled.“Figures.”
“Figureswhy?”
“Heprobablyblameshimself.Tellhimheshouldn’t.”
“Okay.”
“Hejustwantstofitintoo.”
Wildecouldhearmovementfromupstairs.Herdadnodoubt.“Whathappened,Naomi?”
“Youeverreadself-helpbooks?”
“No.”
“Ido.Allthetime.Mylife…”Shestopped,blinkedbacktears,shookherhead.“Anyway,theyalwaystalkaboutmakingsmallchanges.Theself-helpbooks.Itriedthat.Itdoesn’twork.Everyonestillhatesme.Youknowwhatthat’slike?Everydaytofeelyourwholeinsidestwistupbecauseyou’rescaredtogotoschool?”
“No,”Wildesaid.“Butitmustsuck.”
Shelikedthatanswer.“Itdoes.Bigtime.ButIdon’twantyoutofeelsorryforme,okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
Hecrossedhisheartwithhisrighthand.
“Anyway,”Naomisaid,“Idecidedtogoforit.”
“Goforwhat?”
“Change.”Herfacelitup.“Totalchange.Onebigmove,onebigthing,soIcoulderasemypastasaloserandstartagain.Doyougetthat?”
Hesaidnothing.
“Soyeah,Itookthechallenge.Idisappeared.Atfirst,Ihidinthewoods.”Shemanagedasmile.“Iwasn’tscaredofyouatall.”
Hesmiledback.
“Ilastedtwodays.”
“Wasitrough?”
“No,Ilikeditactually.Outthere.Onmyown.Yougetthat,right?”
“Ido.”
“Heck,youprobablygetitbetterthananyone,”shesaid.“Itwaslikeanescape,areprieve.Butmydad,look,he’snotthemostontheball.WhatIam,okay,Imean,mebeingaloser—”
“You’renotaloser.”
Naomishothimalookthattoldhimhewaspatronizingherandshewasdisappointedbyit.Hehelduphishandsasthoughtosay,Mybad
“Anyway,it’snothisfault.Allthis.Buthedoesn’tmakeitbettereither,youknowwhatImean?”
“Ithinkso.”
“SoIwasgonetwodays,andhestartedtexting.Hewasgoingtogotothepolice,whichispartofthegame,right.Also…Iwasworriedhe’dstartdrinkingtoomuch.Whatever,anyway,Ididn’twantthat.SoIcamehome,eventhoughIknewforty-eighthourswouldn’tbeenough.ThenItoldmydadwhatIwasdoing.”
Wildeheardthefootstepsnow.Hedidn’tturn,didn’tworry.“Andyourdaddecidedtohelp?”
“Hegotitrightaway.HethinksI’malosertoo.”Naomiheldupherhand.“Don’tsayit.”
“Okay.”
“Ijustwantedto,youknow,fitin.Impressthem.”
“Bythem,youmeanCrashMaynard?”
“Crash,Kyle,Sutton,allofthem.”
Wildewantedtolaunchintoalittlespeechabouthowyoushouldn’twanttoimpressbulliesorhowtryingtofitinwasalwaysthewrongmove,thatyoushouldstaytruetoyourselfandsticktoyourprinciplesandstanduptotheabuse—buthewassurethatNaomihadhearditallbeforeandhewouldagainsoundpatronizing.Naomiknewalltheanglesherebetterthanheevercould.She’dlivedthemeveryday.Hehadn’t.Shehopedthatthismove—theChallenge—wouldmakeher“cooler,”andwhoknows,maybeshewasright.MaybeCrashandhiscohortswouldbeimpressedwhenshecameback.Maybeitwouldchangeeverythingforher.
Whothehellwashetotellheritwouldn’twork?
“Mydadhadtheidea.Icouldjusthidedownhere.He’djustpretendtobeworried.”
“Butthenthecopsshowedupforreal.”
“Right.Wedidn’tcountonthat.Andhecan’ttellthetruth.Imagineifthatgetsout—whathe’ddone,whatI’ddone.Imean,I’dgetdemolishedinschool.Sohe’sfreakingoutrightaboutnow.”
Thebasementdooropened.Fromthetopofthestairs,BernardPinecalleddown.“Naomi?”
“It’sokay,Dad.”
“Whoareyoutalkingto,honey?”
Naomi’ssmilewasbrightnow.“Afriend.”
Wildenodded.Hewantedtoaskwhethertherewasanythinghecoulddo,buthealreadyknewtheanswer.Heheadedtowardthebasementstairs.BernardPine’seyeswidenedwhenhecameintoview.
“Whothe—?”
“Iwasjustleaving,”Wildesaid.
“Howdidyou…?”
Naomisaid,“It’sokay,Dad.”
Wildewalkedupthestairs.AshepassedBernardPine,hestuckouthishand.Pinetookit.Wildehandedhimacard.Noname,justaphonenumber.
“IfIcanhelp,”Wildesaid.
Pineglancedtowardthewindows.“Thepolicemightseeyou.…”
ButWildeshookhisheadandstartedtowardthebackdoor.Hehadhismaskinhishandnow.“Theywon’t.”
Oneminutelater,Wildewasbackinthewoods.
***
AsWildeheadedbacktowardLaila’s,hecalledHester.
“Naomiisfine.”
Heexplained.
Whenhefinished,Hestershouted,“Areyoushittingme?”
“Thisisgoodnews,”hesaid.“She’ssafe.”
“Oh,great,fine,she’ssafe,la-di-dah.Butincaseyoumissedit,Ijustwentliveonairsayingateenagegirlwentmissing.Nowyoutellmeshe’shidinginherownbasement.I’mgoingtolooklikeafool.”
“Ah,”Wildesaid.
“Ah?”
“That’sallIgot.Ah.”
“AndallIgotismyreputation.Well,thatandmygoodlooks.”
“It’llbeokay,Hester.”
Shesighed.“Yeah,Iknow.Yougoingbacktothehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Soyou’lltellMatthew?”
“I’lltellhimenoughofit.”
“Andthenyou’llgotobedwithLaila?”
Hedidn’treply.
“Sorry,”shesaid.
“Getsomesleep,Hester.”
“Youtoo,Wilde.”
***
Thenextday,Naomiwasbackinschool.Shehopednoonewouldasktoomanyquestions.Buttheydid.Soonherstorycollapsed,andthetruth—thatshehad“cheated”inthegameofChallenge—cametolight.
IfschoollifehadbeenhellforNaomibefore,thislatestrevelationraisedthathelltothetenthpower.
Aweeklater,NaomiPinedisappearedagain.
Everyoneassumedthatshe’drunaway.
Fourdaysafterthat,aseveredfingerwasfound.
PARTTWO
CHAPTERTWELVE
OneWeekLater
Acarpulledintohishiddenroad.
Wildeknewthatbecausehe’dlaiddownarubberhosealarm,thekindyouseeeverydayatgasstationsacrossthiscountry,attheentranceway.Oldschoolbutmoreeffectiveinthissetting—animalssetoffmotiondetectors.They’dtripeveryhourwithfalsealarms.Onlysomethingheavier,likecars,triggeredthehosealarm.
Hehadjustbeenstaringatthesmallscreenatthetime,morespecificallyatanemailfromoneofthoseancestrysiteswithasubjectthattrumpeted,“WEHAVEYOURDNARESULTSRIGHTHERE!”whenthenotificationabouttheintruderpoppedup.Wildehadbeendebatingwhethertoclickthelinkorletsleepingdogslie,justashe’ddebatedwhethertotakethetestatall,whethertobeginthisjourneydownaprobablydarkpathinthefirstplace.SubmittinghisDNAunderapseudonym,he’dconcluded,wassafeenough.Hedidn’thavetolookattheresults.Hecouldjustletthemsittherebehindthatlink.
TherewerethosewhowouldwonderwhyWildehadwaitedsolong,whyhehadn’talreadytakenthisobviousstep.Withcompanieslike23andMeandAncestry.comadvertisingnonstopabouthowthey’dhelpedreunitehundredsifnotthousandsoflong-lostrelatives,wouldn’titbenaturalforWildetosendinhisownswabandperhapslearnhisownoriginstory?Theextemporaneous,unthought-outanswerwasyes,ofcourse—butwhenhetookmoretimewithit,whenhecontemplatedthefullramifications,Wildewasn’tsosure.
ShouldWilde,amanwhoenjoyedlivingoffthegrid,amanwhoreallycouldn’tconnecttomostpeople,openthedoortomeetingstrangerswhocouldclaimhimasbloodandthrustthemselvesintohislife?
Didhewantthat?
Whatpossiblegoodcouldcomefromlearningabouthispast?
TherubberhosealarmtriggeredtherestofWilde’smorestate-of-the-artsystem.Mosttimes,especiallyafewyearsback,ifacarpulledontotheroad,itwasbymistake.Awrongturn.Wildehad,infact,setupaclearingrightpasttheroad’sentrancesoastomakeiteasyforacartorealizeitserror,K-turn,andheadbackout.Nowthough,withtheovergrowthofvegetationinfulleffect,theturnoffwasn’treallyvisiblefromthemainroad,sothoseaccidentalvisitorswerefarrarer.
Still,theyhappened.Andthatcouldbethecasehere.
Whenthesecondandthirdmotiondetectorskickedin,itbecameclearthatthecarhadnointentionofturningaround.Thatmeantthatsomeonewaslookingforhim.
Wildelivedinacustomizedspheroid-shapepodcalledanEcocapsule.TheEcocapsulewasamicrosmarthouseoroff-the-grideco-abodeorcompactmobilehome,whateveryouwantedtocallit,createdbyaSlovakianfriendhemetwhileservingintheGulf.Thestructureresembledagiantdinosauregg,thoughWilde,usingfivedifferentmattecolors,hadpainteditcamouflagetokeepithiddenfromview.Thetotallivingspacewassmall,underseventysquarefeet,oneroom,butithadallheneeded—akitchenettewithacookingplateandminifridge,afullbathroomwithwater-savingfaucetandshowerheadandanincineratortoilet,whichturnedwasteintoash.Thefurniturewasbuild-ins—table,cabinets,storage,afoldingbedthatcouldbeeitheratwinordouble—allmadefromlightweighthoneycombpanelswithanash-woodveneerfinish.Theeggexteriorwasmadefrominsulatedfiberglassshellsoverlaidonasteelframework.
TheEcocapsulewas—noreasontopretendotherwise—supercool.
TherewerethosewhowouldassumefromthedwellingthatWildemustbean“eco-nut”orextremist.Hewasn’t.Thecapsulegavehimprivacyandprotection.Itwasself-sustainableandthustotallyoffthegrid.Therewerephotovoltaicpowercellsontheroofandapolewithawindturbinethatcouldbemountedwhenheneededmorebatterycharge.Thespheroidshapemadecollectingrainwatereasy,butiftherewasadryspell,Wildecouldaddwaterbyanysource—lake,stream,ahose,whatever.Thewaterwouldthenbecleanedviareverse-osmosiswaterfiltersandUVLEDlamp,makingitinstantlypotable.Thestoragetankandwaterheaterwereadequateforoneman,thoughWildewouldconfesstoenjoyingluxuriatingunderLaila’sjet-propulsionshowerheadandseeminglylimitlesssupplyofhotwater.
Therewasnowasheranddryer,nomicrowave,notelevision.Hedidn’treallycare.Hiselectronicneedsconsistedofalaptopandphone,whichwereeasyenoughtopowerupinthecapsule.Therewerenothermostatsorlightswitches—allofthosesortsoffunctionswereperformedviathesmart-homeapp.
Thepodwasalsoeasytoputonatrailerandmove,somethingWildedideveryfewweeksormonths,evenifthemovewasonlyfiftyorahundredyards.Atthisstageofthegame,itwasprobablyoverkilltomovethatoften,butwhenhishomestayedinoneplacetoolong,itfelttohimasthoughthepod(andthushehimself?)weretakingroot.
Hedidn’tlikethat.
Rightnow,Wildewasstandingoutsidethegullwingdoor,tauntedbythatDNAsitelink.Thesensorsandcameras,allsetuptosolarpowercells,streameddigitalvideostohissmartdevice.Hetookalookasthecaronthescreen—aredAudiA6—cametoastop.Thedriver’sdooropened.Amanhalffelloutandtooksometimetorighthimself.Wilderecognizedhim.Theyhadmetonlyonce.
BernardPine,Naomi’sdad.
“Wilde?”
Wildeheardhimthroughthemicrophonesinplace.Hewasstilltoofarawaytohearhimwithoutthat.Hehurrieddownthefamiliarpathtowardtheroad.Thehikewasalittlemorethanaquartermile.Hehadaweaponinhispod—astandardmilitary-issueBerettaM9—buthesawnoreasontopackit.Hedidn’tlikegunsandwasn’tagoodshot.ThenightatMaynardManor,whenhe’dtakenthegunoffThor,he’dbeengladthathehadn’tbeenrequiredtofireit,notsomuchbecausehedidn’twanttohurtanyone,butbecausefromthatdistance,Wilde’smarksmanshipwithahandguncouldkindlybedescribedassuspect.
WildesilentlycameupbehindBernardPine.
“What’sup?”
Pinestartledandspuntowardhim.Wildewonderedhowhehadlearnedaboutthisspot,butitwasn’treallythatmuchofasecret.ThiswashowyoucontactedWilde.Peopleknewthat.
“Ineedyourhelp,”Pinesaid.
Wildewaited.
“She’smissingagain,”Pinesaid.“Naomi,Imean.Shedidn’trunawaythistime.”
“Didyoucontactthepolice?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Herolledhiseyes.“Whatdoyouthink?”
Theythought,ofcourse,thatsheranawayagain.HerChallengegame,Pineexplained,hadbeenexposedasahoax,whichjustfueledtheschoolbullies.Thetauntsintensified.Naomihadgrownevenmoredespondent.Forthepolice,therewasalsotheBoy(orinthiscase,Girl)WhoCriedWolfaspectofthewholethingtoo.
“I’llpayyou,”Pinesaid.“I’veheard…”Hestopped.
“Heardwhat?”
“Thatyoudostufflikethis.Thatyouwereahotshotinvestigatororsomething.”
That,too,wasanoverstatement.He’dbeentheWinthesecurityfirmCRAW,hisspecialtybeingoverseasprotectionanddefense.Becauseofhisunusualstatus—andbecausenoonecouldevenfindabirthcertificateforhim—hehandledthemostsensitivecasesthatrequiredthegreatestamountofsecrecy.Whenhe’dmadeenoughmoney,hequitthedailyroutinebutstayedonasasilentpartneratCRAW,officially“retiring”intothatmurkypartofanybusinesscalled“consulting.”
“Shedidn’trunaway,”Pinerepeated.
Therewasaslurinhisspeech.Pinehadthewholeafter-work-drinksthinggoingon—thebloodshoteyes,thewrinkledshirt,theloosenedtie.
“Whydoyousaythat?”
Pinemulledthatover.Thenhesaid,“WoulditswayyouatallifIsaidafatherjustknows?”
“Notintheleast.”
“Shewastaken.”
“By?”
“Ihavenoidea.”
“Anysignsoffoulplay?”
“Foulplay?”Hefrowned.“Areyouforreal?”
“Anyevidenceatallshewastaken?”
“Ihavetheabsenceofevidence.”
“Meaning?”
BernardPinespreadhishandandsmiledinacreepyway.“Well,she’snothere,isshe?”
“Idon’tthinkIcanhelpyou.”
“BecauseIcan’tproveshewastaken?”
PinestaggeredtowardWildealittletooquickly,asthoughhewasgoingtoattack.Wildetookastepback.Pinestoppedandhelduphishandinsurrender.
“Look,Wildeorwhateverthehelltheycallyou,haveityourway.Let’ssayNaomiranaway.Ifthat’sthecase,well,she’soutthereallalone.”Heliftedbotharmsandspun,asthoughtoindicatehisdaughtermightbeinthesespecificwoods.“She’sbeentraumatizedbythoseNeanderthalsinherschoolandnowshe’sscaredandsadand…andsheneedstobefound.”
ToughforWildetoadmit,butthatmadesense.
“Willyouhelpme?No,notme.Forgetme.YoumetNaomi.Icantellyouconnectedwithher.WillyouhelpNaomi?”
Wildestuckhishandout.“Givemeyourcarkeys.”
“What?”
“I’lldriveyouhome.Youcantellmeeverythingyouknowontheway.”
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Hestertriedtofocus,butshealsofeltgiddyasaschoolgirl.
HerguestrightnowonCrimsteinonCrimewasfamedactivist/attorneySaulStrauss.Thetopic,likethetopicofnearlyeverybroadcastoneveryshowrightnow,wasthedisruptivepresidentialcampaignofRustyEggers,atalk-showguruwithasketchybackground.
Buthermindheadingintocommercialbreakwasonthetextshe’djustreceivedfromOrenCarmichael:
Iknowyou’regoingonair.CanIcomeupandtalkwhenyou’redone?
She’dgiddily—man,shewastoooldforallthisgiddy—repliedyesandthatshe’dleaveOren’snameatreceptionandhecouldcomeupatanytime.Shealmosttypedoneofthoseemojiheartsorsmileythingsattheend,butafly-throughofcommonsenserestrainedher.
Butstill.
Comingoutofcommercial,HesterreadthequickbioonSaulStraussofftheteleprompter—sonofanold-schoolRepublicangovernorfromVermont,servedinthemilitary,graduatedfromBrownUniversity,taughtatColumbiaLawSchool,workedtirelesslynowasastaunchdefenderoftheunderserved,ofthedowntrodden,ofgreencauses,foranimalrights…inshort,henevermetableeding-heartcausehedidn’tbetrothwithtotalferocity.
“Justtobeclear,”Hestersaid,divingstraightin,“youaresuingtheproducersofTheRustyShow,butnotRustyEggershimself,isthatcorrect?”
HesterguessedthatSaulStrausswasinhisearlysixties.Hehadthetrappingsofastereotypicalliberalartsprofessor—longgrayhairinaponytaildownhisback,flanneldressshirtundercorduroyburnt-orangesportscoat,completewiththepatchesonthesleeves,facialhairthatsatsomewherebetweenfashionableandAmish,readingspectaclesdanglingfromachainaroundhisneck—butnomatterhowhedressed,HestercouldstillspotthesteelinessoftheoldMarine.
“Exactly.IrepresentoneoftheadvertisersforTheRustyShow,whoisjustifiablyconcernedthathewassoldafalsebillofgoods.”
“Whichadvertiser?”
Strauss’shands,foldedonthedesk,werethick,enormous,hisfingerslikesausages.Lasttimehe’dbeenon,Hesterhadrestedherhandonhisforearmduringtheconversation,justforasecond.Theforearmfeltlikeamarbleblock.
“We’veaskedthejudgetokeepmyclient’snameconfidentialfornow.”
“Butyou’resuingforfraud?”
“Yes.”
“Explain.”
“Inshort,wefeelthatTheRustyShowdefraudedmyclientandotheradvertisersbydeliberatelyhidinginformationthatcouldbedamagingtotheirbrands.”
“Whatinformation?”
“Wearen’tsureyet.”
“Thenhowcanyousue?”
“MyclientingoodconscienceconnectedtheircompanytoRustyEggersandhistelevisionprogram.Webelievethatwhentheydidso,boththenetworkandDashMaynard—”
“DashMaynardbeingtheproducerofTheRustyShow?”
SaulStraussgrinned.“Oh,DashMaynardwasmuchmorethanthat.Thetwomenarelongtimefriends.Maynardcreatedtheshow—andreally,hecreatedthefakeentitywenowknowasRustyEggers.”
Shedebatedfollowinguponthefakeentitything,butitwouldkeep.“Okay,fine,butIstilldon’tunderstandyourclaim.”
“DashMaynardissittingoninformationdamagingtoRustyEggers—”
“Youknowthathow?”
“—andbynotrevealingwhatthatdamaginginformationis,evenwithalltheNDAsinplace,DashMaynardknewthathewassellingadvertisingforaprogramthatcouldblowupatanymomentandharmmyclient’sbrand.”
“Butitdidn’tblowup.”
“Notyetithasn’t.”
“Infact,TheRustyShowisofftheair.RustyEggersisnowaleadingcandidatetobethenextpresidentoftheUnitedStates.”
“Exactly,that’sthepoint.Nowthathe’srunningforoffice,therewillbemuchmorescrutiny.WhenDashMaynard’sdamagingtapesarereleased—”
“Wait,doyouhaveanyevidencethatthesetapesevenexist?”
“—myclient’sbusinesswillbeseriouslyandmaybeirrevocablyharmed.”
“Becausetheyadvertisedontheshow?”
“Yes,ofcourse.”
“Soinshort,you’resuingforafraudthathasn’thappenedandthatyouhavenoproofwascommittedbasedonsomethingyoudon’tknowexistsorevenifitdoes,howorifitwoulddamageyou.Thataboutsumitup?”
Straussdidn’tlikethat.“No,that’snot—”
“Saul?”
“Yes?”
Hesterleanedforward.“Thislawsuitiscompletenonsense.”
Straussclearedhisthroat.Thebighandstensed.“Thejudgesaidwehadstanding.”
“Youwon’tforlong.Webothknowthat.Canwebehonesthere?Justbetweenus?ThisisafrivoloussuitdesignedtoraiseawarenessandpressureDashMaynardintoreleasingtapesthatmightbeembarrassingtoRustyEggersandderailhiscampaign.”
“No,that’snotthecaseatall.”
“AreyouabackerofRustyEggers?”
“What?No.”
“Infact”—Hesterhadthepullquoteonagraphicthattheyputonthescreennow—“yousaid,‘RustyEggersneedstobestoppedatallcosts.Heisaderangednihilistwhocouldleadusintounimaginablehorrors.Hewantstoteardowntheworldorder,evenifitkillsmillions.’”Hesterturnedtohim.“Yousaidthat,right?”
“Idid.”
“Andyoubelieveit?”
“Don’tyou?”
Hesterwasn’tabouttobedrawnintothatone.“AndsoifDashMaynardhassomethinginhispossessiondamagingtoRustyEggers,youbelievethatthisinformationshouldbereleasedtothepublic.”
“Ofcourseitshould,”Strausssaid.“Wearevotingforthemostpowerfulpositionintheworld.Thereshouldbetotaltransparencywhenitcomestoacandidate.”
“Andthat’sreallythepointofthislawsuit.”
“Transparencyisimportant,Hester.Don’tyouagree?”
“Ido.ButyouknowwhatIthinkismuchmoreimportant?TheConstitution.Theruleoflaw.”
“Soyou’redefendingRustyEggersandDashMaynard?”
“I’mdefendingthelaw.”
“Idon’twanttosoundhyperbolic—”
“Toolate.”
“—butifyousawHitlercomingtopower—”
“Oh,Saul,don’tstartwiththat.Please.”
“Whynot?”
“Justdon’t.Notonmyshow.”
SaulStraussleanedtowardthecameraandaddresseditdirectly.“DashMaynardmayhavetapesthatcouldchangethecourseofhumanhistory.”
“Well,aslongasyoudon’twanttosoundhyperbolic,”Hestersaidwithaneyeroll.“Bytheway,howdoyouevenknowthesetapesexist?”
Straussclearedhisthroat.“We,uh,haveoursources.”
“Forexample?”
“ArniePoplin,forone.”
“ArniePoplin?”Hestercouldn’tkeeptheskepticismfromhervoice.“ArniePoplinisyoursource?”
“Oneofthem,yes.”Straussclearedhisthroat.“Hehasdirectknowledge—”
“Justtoclarifyforourviewers,ArniePoplinisthecelebrityhas-been-turned-conspiracy-nutwhoappearedasacontestantonTheRustyShow.”
“Thatcharacterizationismisleading.”
“ArniePoplinclaimed,didhenot,that9/11wasaninsidejob?”
“That’snotrelevant.”
“ThissameArniePoplincallsmyproducerweeklydemandingtobeaguestsohecanairsomenewwhacked-outtheoryinvolvingUFOsorchemtrailsorsomesimilarmalarkey.Seriously?ArniePoplin?”
“Withallduerespect—”
“That’sneveragoodwaytobeginasentence,Saul.”
“—Idon’tthinkyouseethedangerinthisRustyEggerscampaign.Wehaveanobligationtoairthesetapesandsaveourdemocracy.”
“Thenfindalegalwaytoairthem—orthereisn’tmuchofademocracytosave.”
“That’swhatI’mdoing.”
“Withthisdinkyfraudcase?”
“Icanstartbygoingaftersomeoneforaparkingviolation,”Strausssaid,“andifIstumbleacrossamurder,well,sobeit.”
“Wow,that’sastretch,butitseemstobeaphilosophyyouandRustyEggershaveincommonthen.”
“Pardonme?”
“Endsjustifyingthemeans—ataleasoldastime.Maybeyoutwoshouldfindyourowncountry?”Strauss’sfaceturnedscarlet,butbeforehecouldcounter,Hesterspuntothecamera.“We’llberightback.”
Aproducershouted,“Clear.”
SaulStrausswasnotahappyman.“Jesus,Hester,whatthehellwasthat?”
“ArniePoplin?Areyouforreal?”Sheshookherheadandcheckedhertexts.TherewasonefromOrensenttwominutesago:
Onthewayup.
“Ihavetogo,Saul.”
“MyGod,didyouhearyourself?YoujustcomparedmetoRustyEggers.”
“Yourlawsuitisnonsense.”
SaulStraussputhishandonherarm.“Eggersisnotgoingtostop,Hester.Thedestruction,themayhem,thenihilism—yougetthat,right?Hebasicallywantsanarchy.HewantstoteardowneverythingyouandIcherish.”
“Ihavetogo,Saul.”
Hesterunclippedthemicrophonefromherlapel.HerproducerAllisonGrantwaitedinthewings.Hestertriedtobenonchalant.
“DoIhaveavisitor?”sheasked.
“YoumeanthatGiantYuminthepolice-chiefuniform?”
Hestercouldn’thelpherself.“He’scute,right?”
“WelcometoBeefcakeCity.Population:Him.”
“Whereishe?”
“Iputhiminthegreenroom.”
Everystudiohasagreenroom,aplaceforgueststositbeforetheycomeonair.Theyare,forsomeoddreason,neveractuallygreen.
“HowdoIlook?”Hesterasked.
AllisoninspectedhertothepointwhereHesterfearedthatshe’ddoahorse-purchasecheckonherteeth.“Smart.”
“What?”
“Havinghimcomebyrightafteryougoonair.Makeupandhairalreadydone.”
“Right?”Hestersmoothedherbusinessskirtandheadeddownthecorridor.Thegreenroomwasloadedupwithpostersofthenetworkanchorsandtalkingheads,includingonetakenthreeyearsagoofHester,turnedtotheside,armscrossed,lookingtough.Whensheenteredtheroomnow,Orenwasstandingwithhisbacktowardthedoor,lookingatherposter.
“Whatdoyouthink?”Hesterasked.
Withoutturningtowardher,Orensaid,“You’rehotternow.”
“Hotter?”
Heshrugged.“‘Prettier’or‘morebeautiful’don’tseemtofityou,Hester.”
“I’lltakehotter,”shesaid.“I’lltakehotterandrun.”
Orenturnedandsmiled.Itwasanawfullygoodsmile.Shefeltitinhertoes.
“Nicetoseeyou,”hesaid.
“Nicetoseeyoutoo,”Hestersaid.“AndI’msorryaboutthatwholeNaomithing.”
“Waterunderthebridge,”Orensaid.“Iimagineitendedupbeingmoreembarrassingforyouthanme.”
Ithadbeen.WhenitwasdiscoveredthatNaomiwasjustplayingaprank,therehadbeenplentyofonlineridicule.Hester’senemies—everyoneonsocialmediahadenemies—reveledinhererror.WhentwodayslatershecommentedonacontroversialelectioncourtdecisioninCalifornia,adozenTwitterNuts(that’swhatHestercalledthem)pouncedwithafury:“Wait,isn’tshetheonewhothoughtakid’sprankwasanationalemergency?”Thiswasthewaynowforbothsides—andyes,sheevenhatedthephrase“bothsides”—now:Discreditanylegitimateargumentwithsomething,nomatterhowlongagoorobscure,thepersongotwronginthepast.Asifonlyperfectiondeservedyourconsideration.
“Sheranoffagain,”Orensaid.
“Naomi?”
“Yes.Herfathercametoseeme.Heinsistsit’smorethanthat.”
“Whatwillyoudo?”
“WhatcanIdo?Iputitontheradiosoifmyguysseeher,they’llcallit.Butthesignsseemprettyclearthatshe’sarunaway.”
“Iimagineshe’sbeenunderalotofstress.”
“Yes.That’smyconcerntoo.”
HesterstillhadquestionsaboutthewholeNaomimess—notably,whydidMatthewinsistshegetinvolved?—butoncetheendingcame,Matthewshutdownandshruggeditoffasavagueworryaboutaclassmate.
“Sowhatbringsyouhere?”sheasked.
“Seemsenoughtimehaspassed.”
“Pardon?”
“Yousaidnottocalltoosoon.Itwouldmakemelookdesperate.”
“SoIdid.”
“Andbeingalittleoldschool,IthoughtIwouldaskyououttheold-fashionedway.”
“Oh.”
“Inperson.”
“Oh.”
“Becausenoonehasarotaryphoneanymore.”
“Oh.”
Hesmiledagain.“Thisisgoingwell.”
“ShouldIsay‘Oh’again?”
“No,IthinkIgotthegist.Wouldyouliketohavedinnerwithmesometime?”
“Ishouldprobablyfakeindifference.Saysomethingaboutcheckingmybusyschedule.”
Orensaid,“Oh.”
“Yes,Oren.Iwouldliketohavedinnerwithyouverymuch.”
“How’stomorrow?”
“Tomorrowisgood.”
“Seven?”
“I’llmakeareservation,”shesaid.
“WillIneedtowearatie?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Hesteppedforwardasthoughhemighthugher,thenthoughtbetterofit.Hegaveanawkwardhalfwaveandsaid,“Byethen.”
Shewatchedhimwalkpastherandoutthedoor.
Yep,Hesterthought,holdingbacktheurgetoleapupandclickherheels.GiantYum.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
RustyEggersturnedthetelevisionoffwithalittletoomuchdramaandtossedtheremoteontothewhitecouch.
“It’sjustasillynuisancesuit.”
GavinChambersnodded.They’dbeenwatchingHesterCrimstein’sinterviewwithSaulStraussfromRusty’ssleek,chrome-n-whitepenthouse.Thepenthouseofthisparticularhigh-risewasmadeupoffloor-to-ceilingwindowsofferingthemostbreathtakingviewsoftheManhattanskylineimaginable—mostlybecausethepenthousewasinHoboken,NewJersey,notManhattan,andsoitfacedthecityratherthanstoodamongstit.NewYorkersontheHudsonRiverhavetheokayviewofNewJersey—NewJerseyansonthatsameHudsonRiverhavethejaw-droppingviewofNewYorkCity.Rightnow,atnight,withthelightsofthebuildingstwinklingofftheHudson,theriverlookedlikediamondsstrewnoutonblackvelvet.
“Ajudgewilltossitoutbeforeitgetsanywhere,”Rustycontinued.Hespokewithgreatconfidence.Rustyalwaysspokewithgreatconfidence.
“I’msureyou’reright,”GavinChamberssaid.
“IthoughtHesterCrimsteinwasgoodinthatinterview,”Rustysaid.
“Shewas.”
“Fair.CalledStraussoutonhisbullshit.”
“Yes.”
“Buthewon’tgoawayeasily,willhe?”
“SaulStrauss?”GavinChambersshookhishead.“Hewillnot.”
“Youknowhim,right?”
“Yes.”
“Youservedtogether.”
Theyhad.IntheMarines.Alifetimeago.GavinhadalwaysadmiredSaulStrauss.Saulwastoughandscrappyandbrave—andyetwrongaboutprettymucheverything.
“Howlonghasitbeensinceyousawhim?”
“Alongtime.”
“Still,”Rustysaid.“Theremustbeabond.Fromyourtimeoverseas.”
Gavindidn’treply.
“Doyouthinkyoucantalktohim?”
“Talktohim?”
“Gethimtobackoff.”
SaulStraussusedtobewhatGavinwouldconsidercommittedandpassionateinanamby-pamby,Kumbaya-like,eco-green,granola-y,unrealisticsortofway,butmoreandmore,theSaulsoftheworldhadraisedtheirrhetorictothedangerouslyhysterical,especiallywhenitcametoRustyEggers.
“Notachance,”Gavinsaid.
“SoStraussisatruehater?”
GavinChambersandSaulStraussbothcamefrompoliticallymixedmarriages—conservativefathers,liberalmothers.GavinhadtakenafterhisoldmanwhileSaulbecameapropermama’sboy.Therehadbeenatimewhentheycouldtalkanddebateinaspiritedway.GavinwouldsaythatSaulwasna?veandableedingheart.SaulwouldsaythatGavinwasoverlyanalyticalandDarwinian.Thoserelativenicetiesnowseemedalongtimeago.
“He’sbecomeazealot,”Gavinsaid.
“Ifiguredthat,”Rustysaid.
“Uh-huh.”
“Insomeways,wearethesame,yourfriendSaulandI.Webothbelievethatthecurrentsystemisrigged.WebothbelievethatthesystemhasfailedtheAmericanpeople.Webothbelievetheonlywaytofixitistofirstupendit.”
RustyEggersstaredoutattheview.HewasaNewJerseyboythroughandthrough—bornpoorintheIronbounddistrictofNewarktoaUkrainianfatherandaJamaicanmother,attendedall-maleSt.Benedict’sPreponMartinLutherKingBoulevardintheheartofthecity,earnedanacademicfullridetoPrincetonUniversity—allofwhichwaswhyhestayedinhishomestateratherthanmovingacrossthatriver.Helovedtheview,ofcourse.TrainsandferriescouldgethimintomidtownorWallStreetinlessthanhalfanhour.NewJerseywasalsoabigpartofRusty’srep—TheThreeS’s,helikedtosay—asliverofSpringsteen,asliverofSinatra,asliveroftheSopranos.Rustycameacrossasgruffyetlovable,urbanyetsafe,abigteddybearofamanwithashockofrust-colored(ergothenickname)hair.Hewaslightskinnedenoughtopassaswhite,yetblackenoughsothattheracistscouldgetbehindhimtoprovethattheyweren’treallyracists.
RustyEggerswasalso,GavinChambersknew,brilliant.Theonlychildinaclose-knitfamily,Rustyhaddouble-majoredinphilosophyandpoliticalscienceatPrinceton.He’dmadehisfirstfortunebycreatingaboardgamethatmixedpersonalopinionsandtriviacalledPolitiGuess.LifeseemedtobegoingswimminglyforRustyuntilatractortrailer,drivenbyamanwho’dpoppedtoomanyamphetaminestokeeponaridiculousdeliveryschedule,crashedthroughthedividerontheNewJerseyTurnpikeandslammedhead-onintoacarcarryingtheEggersfamily.Rusty’smotherandfatherbothdiedinstantly.Rustywasseriouslyinjuredandspenttwomonthsinahospitalbed.Asthefamilydriveronthatparticularnight,eventhoughitwasnotinanywayhisfault,Rustysufferedsurvivor’sguilt.Hebecameunmoored.Hesunkintoapainkilleraddictionandthendiagnosabledepression.Itwasbadforawhile.
Fast-forwardthroughthreeterribleyears.
Thoughsomeclaimthatheneverfullyrecoveredfromthisdarkperiod,RustyEggers,sportingalimphecarriedtothisday,eventuallyrosefromtheasheslikeaphoenixwiththehelpofhisoldfriendsDashandDeliaMaynard.Rustywouldclaim,assomanyhadbeforehim,thathe’dpulledhimselfupbythebootstraps,butintruth,ithadbeentheMaynardswhogavehimthebootsandtuggedonthosestrapswithalltheirmight.WithDash’shelp,RustyEggersbecametelevision’smosttrustedself-helpguru.Twoyearsago,he’driddenthatfameandgoodwilltoalandslidevictorytobecomeaUnitedStatessenatoras,inhisownwords,the“CompleteIndependent.”
Rusty’smotto:PartiesAreforWeekends,NotPolitics.
Now,likeeverypoliticalupstartfromObamatoTrump,RustyEggershadforegonewaitinghisturnandwasaimingforthehighestofficeinthelandwithearlysuccess.
WithhisbacktoGavin,stillstaringoutthewindow,Rustyasked,“Howaretheyfaring?”
HewastalkingabouttheMaynards.“They’refine.Alittlestressedperhaps.”
“I’msureyourpresencehelpswiththat.”
Rusty’sapartment’sdécorwasfittinglyspare,nothinggoldormarble,justwhitesandminimalism.Theviewwasthething,thosefloor-to-ceilingwindows.
“Iappreciateyoudoingthisforme,Gavin.”
“I’mbillingforit.”
“Yes,butIknowyoudon’tgointothefieldanymore.”
“Ido,”Gavinsaid.“Butrarely.Senator?”
Rustyfrowned.“We’veknowneachothertoolongforyoutostartcallingmethat.”
“I’dpreferit.”
“Asyouplease,Colonel,”Rustyrepliedwithasmallsmile.
“Youknowbesidesrunningmysecuritiesfirm,I’manattorney.”
“Ido.”
“Idon’tdomuchpracticing,”Gavincontinued,“butIpassedthebarsothatanythingyouoranyclienttellsmeiscoveredunderattorney-clientprivilege.”
“Itrustyouanyway.Youknowthat.”
“Still,youhavethatprotectiontoo—thatlegalprotection.Iwantedyoutoknowthat.I’myourtrustedfriend,yes,butlegallyIcan’trevealanythingyoutellme.”
RustyEggersturnedwithasmileonhisface.“YouknowIwantyouinmycabinet.”
“Thisisn’taboutthat.”
“Nationalsecurityadvisor.Maybesecretaryofdefense.”
Didn’tmatterhowmuchhetriednottogetexcitedbythisnotion—retiredcolonelGavinChambers,ex-Marine,wasstillhuman.Theideaofservinginacabinetmadehimheady.“Iappreciateyourconfidenceinme.”
“It’sdeserved.”
“Senator?Letmehelpyou.”
“Youare.”
“Thethingis,I’veheardtherumors—”
“Theyarejustthat,”Rustysaid.“Rumors.”
“ThenwhyamIguardingtheMaynards?”
Rustyturnedtohim.“Areyoufamiliarwiththehorseshoetheoryofpolitics?”
“Whataboutit?”
“Mostpeoplethink,politicallyspeaking,thattherightandtheleftareonalinearcontinuum—meaningthattherightisononesideoftheline,andtheleftisobviouslyontheother.Thattheyarepolaropposites.Farapartfromoneanother.Butthehorseshoetheorysaysthatthelineis,well,shapedmorelikeahorseshoe—thatonceyoustartgoingtothefarrightandthefarleft,thatthelinecurvesinwardsothatthetwoextremesarefarclosertooneanotherthantheyaretothecenter.Somegoasfarastosayit’smorelikeacircle—thatthelinebendssomuchthatfarleftandfarrightarevirtuallyindistinguishable—tyrannyinoneformoranother.”
“Senator?”
“Yes?”
“Istudiedpoliticalsciencetoo.”
“Thenyou’llunderstandwhatI’mtryingtodo.”Rustycamecloser,wincingashelimped.Theshatteredlegfromthatterriblenighttoooftentightenedup.“MostAmericansareinthemiddlerelativelyspeaking.Mostaresomewhatleftorrightofthatcenter.Thosepeopledon’tinterestme.Theyarepragmatic.Theychangetheirminds.Votersalwaysthinkthepresidenthastoappealtothosefolks—thecenter.Halfthecountrymoreorlessisright,halfisleft,soyouneedtograbthemiddle.That’snotwhatI’mdoing.”
“Idon’tseewhatthathastodowiththeMaynards,”Gavinsaid.
“Iamthenextevolutionofouroutrage-fueled,social-media-obsessedpoliticalculture.Thefinalevolution,ifyouwill.Theendofthestatusquo.”
Rustyhadthefireinhiseyes,thesmilerocking.TherewasnooneelseintheroomandyetGavincouldhearthecheersofmillions.
“Mypointis,ifmyenemiesthinkmyclosefriendsDashandDeliahavesomething,anything,onme,they’llstopatnothing,includinghurtingthem,togetit.”
“Soyou’redoingthisjusttoprotectclosefriends?”
“Youfindthathardtobelieve?”
Gavinmadeafaceandputthetipofhisindexfingernearthetipofhisthumbtoindicateaweebit.Rustylaughed.Itwasanexplosivelaugh.Suchcharminthatlaugh.Sodisarming.“I’veknownDeliasinceourdaysatPrinceton.Didyouknowthat?”
Gavindid,ofcourse.Heknewtheentirelegend.RustyhaddatedDeliaduringtheirjunioryear.TheybrokeupwhileworkingasummerinternshiponCapitolHillfortheDemocrats,whereDeliathenfellforandmarriedanothersummerinternfromthatCapitolHillclass,abuddingdocumentaryfilmmakernamedDashMaynard.That,oddlyenough,washowRustyandDashmet—inDC,doingsummerinternshipsfortheDems.
Thatwaswhereitallstarted.
“TheMaynardsknowmoreaboutmethananyone,”Rustysaid.
“Likewhat?”
“Oh,nothingdire.It’snotliketheyhaveanyseriousdirtonme.ButDashtapedeverythingbackintheday.Everything.Backstage.Privategatherings.Therearenosmokingguns,but,Imean,inallthatmaterial,theremustbemomentsmyenemiescoulduse,don’tyouthink?AmomentwhenIwasrudetoaguestorsnappywithanemployeeormaybeIputmyhandonawoman’selbow,whatever.”
“Andspecifically?”
“Nothingcomestomind.”
Gavindidn’tbelievehim.
“Justkeepaneyeonthemforafewmoreweeks.Thenthiswillallbeover.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
WhenBernardPineunlockedhisfrontdoor,Wildedidn’twaitforpermission.Heheadedstraightforthestaircase.
“Holdup,wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?”
Wildedidn’treply.Hestartedupthesteps.BernardPinefellinbehindhim.Thatwasfine.WildeenteredNaomi’sbedroomandflickedonthelights.
“Whatareyoulookingfor?”Pineasked.
“Youwantmyhelp,right?”
“Yes.”
WildestaredatNaomi’sbed,atallthestuffedanimalsonit.“DoesNaomihaveafavorite?”
“Afavoritewhat?”
“Stuffedanimal.”
“HowwouldIknow?”
Wildeopenedtheclosetandcheckedtheshelf.
“Herbackpack,”hesaidtoPine.
“What?”
“WhenIwasherelasttime—”
“Wait,whenthehellwereyouinmydaughter’sbedroom?”
DidWildewanttogointoit?JudgingbythelookofbafflementandperhapsevenhostilitysneakingontoPine’sface,heprobablyhadto.“ThedayyouandImet.”
“ButIsawyouinthebasement.”
“Andbeforethat,Iwasinthebedroom.”
“Withmydaughter?”
“What?No.Alone.Youknowthat.Shewasinthebasement.”
Pineshookhishead,asthoughtryingtoclearit.“Idon’tunderstand.Howdidyougetinherbedroom?”
“That’snotreallyimportantrightnow.WhatisimportantisthatNaomi’sbackpackismissing.”
Wildepointedtotheshelf.Pinefollowedthegesture,sawtheemptyshelf,andshrugged.“It’sprobablyatherschool.Inherlocker.Isawhertakeitlotsoftimes.Everyday,infact.”
“Whatcolorbackpack?”
“Black,Ithink.Maybedarkblue.”
“I’mtalkingaboutthepinkoneshekeptonthisshelf.”
AgainPinelookedbaffled.“Howwouldyouknow…youlookedinhercloset?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Wildetriedtokeeptheimpatienceoutofhistone.“BecauseIwaslookingforher.Likenow.”
“Idon’tknowanythingaboutapinkbackpack.”
Wildegavetheclosetamorethoroughlook.ThepinkFj?llr?venK?nkenbackpackhe’dseenonthatshelfwasdefinitelygone.Healsocheckedthehangers.Lasttimehe’dbeeninthisroom,allthehangershadbeentaken.Hecountedfouremptyonesnow.Threemorehangerslayscatteredonthefloor,asthoughshe’drippedtheclothesoffthosehangersquickly.
Obviousconclusion:Shepackedclothesintothatpinkbackpack.
Wildeshiftedhisgazebacktothebedandthestuffedanimals.Heclosedhiseyesforasecond,triedtorecallwhatthebedlookedlikelasttimehewashere,hopingthathe’dbeabletotellifanyweremissing.Butitwaspointless.Ifoneormoreofthemweremissing,itmightconfirmthefactthatNaomiintentionallyran.Butdidheneedthatextraproof?
“Sheranaway,”Wildesaidtohim.
“Youcan’tknowthat.”
“Mr.Pine?”
“I’dpreferitifyoucalledmeBernie.”
“Whataren’tyoutellingme,Bernie?”
“I’mnotsurewhatyoumean.”
“Youknowmorethanyou’resaying.”
Hestartedrubbinghischin.Wildetriedtoreadhim.Nothingwascomingthroughclearly.Washealovingalbeitdistractedfather?Orwastheresomethingmore?Therewasdefinitelyaqualityinthemanhedidn’ttrust.WasBernardPineadangerorwasWildejustbeinghisusualcynicalself?
Then:“Naomisentmethistextyesterday.”
PinehandedWildehisphone.Themessagewastwoshortsentences:
Don’tworry.I’msafe.
“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking,”Pinesaid.
Notmuchquestionaboutitnow.Backpackandclothesgone.Nosignsorhintsofanyabduction.Noransomordemandsoranythinglikethat.Nowthrowintheotherfactors—theheightenedbullying,herpasthistoryofrunningoff,thefailedChallengegame.
Theconclusionwasobvious.
“There’ssomethingelseyoushouldknow,”Pinesaid.
Wildelookedathim.
“Someonehurther.”Hiseyeswerewetnow.“AndI’mnottalkingabouttheusualbullying.”
“Whatareyoutalkingaboutthen?”
“Physically.”
Theroomwentstill.
“Youbetterexplain,”Wildesaid.
Ittookhimalittletimetogatherhimself.Pinestareddownathishand.Hehadaschoolringwithagarnetstone.Hestartedtwistingitaroundhisfinger.“WhenIcamehomefromworkthedaybeforeshedisappeared,Naomihadafrozenbagofpeasonherrighteye.Itwasblackthenextmorning.”
“Didyouaskheraboutit?”
“Ofcourse.”
Wildewaited.BernardPinestartedbitinghardonhisthumbnail.
“Shesaidshewalkedintoadoor.”
“Didyoubelieveher?”
“OfcourseIdidn’tbelieveher,”hesnapped.“Butthat’sallshewouldsay.Youevertrytogetateenagertotellyousomething?Youcan’tforceitoutofthem.Shesaidshewasfineandwentuptoherroom.”
“Didyoucheckuponher?”
“Youdon’thavekids,doyou,Wilde?”
Wildetookthatasano.
“It’sallconnected,”Pinesaid.
“Whatis?”
“ThatgameofChallenge,thosekidswhowerepickingonher,thefactthatshe’sgoneagain.Somethingisn’tright.”HetiltedhisheadandlookedatWildeasthoughseeinghimforthefirsttime.“Whywereyousoinvestedinmydaughter?”
Wildedidn’treply.
“DidyouevenknowNaomibeforethatnight?”
“No.”
“Yetyoubrokeintomyhousetofindher.Agirlyoudidn’tevenknow.Whywouldyoudothat?”
ThatwaswhenBernardPinepulledoutahandgun.
Wildedidn’thesitate.Themomentherealizedwhatwashappeninghewasalreadyonthemove.Noonewithagunexpectsthat.Notatfirst.Oneofthetwomeninthisroom—Wilde—washighlytrainedincombat.Theotherwasn’t.Pinehadmadethemistakeofstandingtooclose.Wildetookaquicksteptowardhim.Withonehand,hesnatchedthegun.Withtheother,heformedaclassicchopanddelivereditwithoutmuchforcetoPine’sthroat.Ifyouthrowthatblowtoohard,youdopermanentdamage.Wildewasjustaimingforachoke,agagreflex,amusclerelease.
Itdidthetrick.
Pinestaggeredback,onehandonhisneck,theotherwavinginsomesortofsurrender.TheweaponnowinWilde’shandfeltlight.Hepoppedtherevolver’schamberopenandchecked.
Nobullets.
Pinehadhisvoiceback.“Iwasjusttryingtoscareyou.”
Idiot,Wildethought.Buthesaidnothing.
“Yougetit,right?Youbreakintomyhouse,youstartsomekindofrelationshipwithmydaughter—you,theweirdowholivesaloneinthewoods.Imean,ifyouwereinmyshoes,wouldn’tyouwonder?”
“Idon’tknowwhereyourdaughteris.”
“Soexplainittomethen:WhogotyouinvolvedinfindingherduringtheChallengegame?”
Wildewasn’tabouttotellhim.Butwhenhesteppedbackandlookedatitobjectively,Pinedidraiseaninterestingpoint.Matthewhadneverreallyexplaineditall,hadhe?
“Givemeyourphone,”Wildesaid.
“What,why?”
Wildejustheldouthishand.Pinehandeditover.WildeclickedthemessagebuttonandfoundthetextfromNaomisayingDon’tworry,I’msafe.Heskimmeduptoseetherestoftheconversation.Hestopped.
“What?”Pineasked.
Therewerenoothertextsbetweenthetwoofthem—betweenfatheranddaughter.
“Whathappenedtotherestofthemessages?”
“What?”
“Iassumethiswasn’tthefirsttimeyouandNaomitexted.”
“No,ofcoursenot.Wait,whatareyoudoing?”
Wildecheckedthecallhistory.Yes,therewerephonecallstoNaomi.Butnotmany.Thelasthadbeenmorethanamonthago.
“Wherearetherestofthetextsbetweenyoutwo?”
“What,Idon’tknow.Theyshouldbethere.”
“They’renot.”
Pineshrugged.“Cansomeonedeletethem?”
Someonecan.Theuserofthephone.
“Whywouldyougetridofyourmessageswithyourowndaughter?”
“Ididn’t.MaybeNaomiclearedthemout.”
Notlikely.
Wildestartedtyping.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Pineasked.
Wildeignoredhim.Hetypedintothemessagefield:
Hey,Naomi,it’sWilde.
Shemaynotthinkit’sreallyhim.Shemaythinkit’sherfathertrickingher.
AkaBooRadley.
Onlyshewouldgetthatreference.
I’musingyourdad’sphone.He’sworriedaboutyou.SoamI.Letmeknowyou’reokay.
Wildegavehiscurrentburnernumberandtoldhershecouldtextorcall.ThenhetossedthephonebacktoPine,buthepocketedtheweapon.
ItwastimetotalktoMatthew.Heheadedforthedoor.
“Willyouhelpme?”Pineasked.
Wildedidn’tbreakstride.“I’llhelpNaomi.”
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
AssoonashewasoutofthePinehouse,Wildecheckedtheburnernumberhe’dtextedtoNaomi,hopingforaquickresponse.
Nothing.
IfNaomihadjustrunoff,wouldn’tshereplytohimrightaway?Hemightbedeludinghimself,buthethoughtso.Therehadbeensomesortofconnectionbetweentheminthatbasement,twooutcastswhokindofunderstoodoneanother,butagainmaybethatwasmorehimprojectingthananythingsubstantive.
HetextedMatthew:
Youhome?
Thedotsdancedbeforetheword“Ya”poppedup.
MindifIcomeby?
Matthew’sreplywasathumbs-upemoji.
AsWildetooktothewoods,hecalledHester.
“Articulate,”shesaidasshepickedup.
“What?”
“Afriendofminesaysthatwhenheanswers.Ithoughtitwascute.What’sup?”
“NaomiPineismissingagain.”
“Iheard.”
“How?”
Sheclearedherthroat.“Orentoldme.”Hervoicesoundedalittlefunny.
“Whatdidhesay?”
“Thatherdadcametohim.Thathemadeabigfussbutsheprobablyranawayagain.”
“Thedadcametometoo.”
“Whatdoesitlooklike?”Hesterasked.
“Likesheranawayonherown.”
Hefilledherinonthemissingclothesandbackpackandtexttoherdadnottoworry.
“ThetextIdismiss,”Hestersaid.“Ifsomeonegrabbedher,theycouldhavetakenherphoneandsentanything.”
“Right.”
“Buttheclothesplusherpastsuggestsheranaway.”
“Agree.”
“Eitherway—andIdon’tknowhowtoputthissubtly—”
“Notyourstrongsuitanyway,Hester.”
“—butthisisn’tourbusinessanymore.Unlessyouneedthemoney.”
“Idon’t.”
“So?”
“Sotwothings,”hesaid.
“Letmeguess,”Hestersaid.“ThingOne:YoumetNaomi.Youlikedher.Youwanttohelpher,evenifsheranaway.You’reworriedabouther.”
“Yes.”
“AndThingTwo?”
“YouknowThingTwo,Hester.”
Therewasasigh.“Matthew.”
“Hedidn’ttelluseverythingthatfirsttime.WeletitgowhenwefoundNaomi.Thedadsaidshehadbruises.Likesomeonehither.”
“Ohcomeon,youdon’tthinkMatthew—”
“Ofcoursenot.ButIdon’tthinkhe’stolduseverythingeither.”
“Andyoulikethegirl.”
Wildethoughtaboutit.“Yes.Andshe’salone.Shehasnoone.”
“Howaboutthatteacheryouwerebedding?”
Wildefrowned.“Didyoureallysay‘bedding’?”
“You’dprefer‘shtupping’?”
“Betterthan‘bedding,’”Wildesaid.“WecantryAva,butintheendshe’sjustaschoolteacher,notarelativeorfriend.”
“Sowhat’syourplan?”
“I’mgoingtotalktoMatthew.”
“Now?Iwouldn’tpushhim.”
“Iwon’t.Doyouhavecontactswiththephonecompany?”
“Imay,”shesaid.
“CanyoupingNaomi’sphone?Findoutwhereitis?”
“Icantry.”
“OryoucanaskOrentodoit,”Wildesaid,“afteryoubedhim.”
“Funny.”
Wildepocketedthephone.Thewoodswereneversilent.Somedayshegotallintuitiveandinsightfulaboutthat,abouttheeffectsofquietwithoutsilence,butforhimitwasdifferent.Itwasn’tnecessarilyenjoyable—itwaswhatheneeded.Hedidn’tlosehismindwhenhewenttothe“bigcity”oranythinglikethat.Helikedthechangesometimes.Butthiswashome.Ifhestayedawaytoolong—ifhedidn’tescapetothisquietforlongperiodsoftime—itwassomethingakintoadiverandthebends.
SoundedlikeZen-levelbullshit.Maybeitwas.
MatthewwaswaitingforWildeinthekitchen.
“Mom’snothome,”Matthewsaid.
Wildeknew.Lailahadtoldhimshe’dbeoutlate.“Naomiismissingagain.”
Matthewdidn’treply.
“Didyounotice?Atschooloranything?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
Shrug.“AndIfiguredshe’drunawayorsomething.Thelastweekhasbeenbrutal.Ifiguredsheneededabreak.”
“Youwereveryconcernedlasttime.”
“Andthatendedupbeingnothing.”
“Whywereyousoconcerned?”
Matthewshiftedhisfeet.“Itoldyou.”
“YougotwindofthisChallengegame?”
“Right.”
“Yeah,I’mnotbuyingthat,Matthew.”
Hiseyeswentwide.“YouthinkI’mlying?”
“Probablybyomission.Butyes.”
Matthewshookhishead,feigningoffense.Thenhesaid,“It’snothing.”
“Tellmeanyway.”
“Idon’tfeelcomfortable—”
“Thenfeeluncomfortable,”Wildesaid.
“Hey,you’renotmyfather,youknow?”
“Really?”Wildegavehimahardgaze.“Youwanttoplaythatcard?”
Matthewlookeddown.Hisvoicewassoft.“Sorry.”
Wildewaited.
“Ihurther.”
Wildefelthispulsepickup,buthestayedsilent.
“Therewasthisdancething.Likeaparty.”
“When?”
“Twomonthsago.”
Matthewstopped.
Aftersometimepassed,Wildesaid,“Wherewastheparty?”
“CrashMaynard’splace.Itwaslikeaparty,butitwasn’treallyaparty.Itwasmorelikeaschoolfunction.Afewyearsago,abunchofkidsgotwastedataschooldance,sowearen’tallowedtoholdtheminthegymanymore.SotheMaynardsvolunteeredtohost.Thewholeclasswasthere.”
“Naomitoo?”
“Thewholeclass,yeah.”Matthewkepthiseyesonthefloor.
Wildefoldedhisarms.“Goon.”
“Naomibroughtastuffedanimal.Apenguin.Ithinkforheritwaslikeatherapypetorsomething,Idon’tknow.Itwasn’tlikeshewasbeingfreakyaboutit.Itwassmall.Shekeptitinherhandbag.Butsheshowedittosomeofthegirls.Theystartedgigglingaboutit.Anyway,Crashgoesoverandstartstalkingtoher.He’sbeingallnice,showingherhisstupidskullring.Whichmeanssomethingisup.Anyway,it’sjusttodistracther.She’ssmilingandsohappy…andthentwooftheotherguysrunoverandit’sliketheypurse-snatchher.Shecriesoutandrunsafterthemtowardthewoodsbehindtheestate.Everyone’slaughing.”
Matthewpaused.
“Includingyou?”
“Yeah,butIdon’tthinkit’sfunny.”
“Butyouseethishappen?”
“IwastalkingtoSuttonHolmes.”
SuttonHolmes.WildeandMatthewdon’thavetoomanyofthoseman-to-mans,butWildeknewaboutMatthew’scrush.TheonlypersonwhohadeverbeeninWilde’sEcocapsulewasMatthew.Whentheboyneededtogetaway,Wildebroughthimthere.Somethingabouttheoutdoors,thecamping,thebeingonewithnature,whateverlabelyouwantedtouse,itseemedtoalwaysleadtoopeningup.
“It’sdarkbynow,”Matthewcontinued.“TheMaynardsrentedtheseportablelightslikeyouseeatanoutdoorbaseballgame.Halfthekidsarecarryingflasks,sothey’remixinginvodkaandgrainalcoholwithwhateversweetconcoctiontheMaynardsareserving.ButI’mwatchingthewoods.I’mwaitingforNaomitocomeback.Fiveminutespassed,maybeten.ThenKyleemergesfromthewoods.He’sholdinguphishand.Atfirst,Ican’tseewhat’sinit,butwhenhegetscloser”—Matthewshuthiseyes—“itwastheheadofthestuffedpenguin.Justthehead.Likethestuffingisleakingout.”
Wildefelthisheartsink.
“Everyoneischeering.”
Wildetriedtokeepthejudgmentoutofhisvoice.“You?”
“Youwanttohearthisornot?”
Hewasright.Therewouldbetimeenoughlater.Matthewlookedsosmallrightnow.WilderemindedhimselfthatMatthewwasthelittleboywholosthisfatherinacarcrash.He’djustbeentryingtofitin,somethingWildeneverquitegotbecausehe’dwantedtheoppositeforhimself.
“Iwasprettywastedbynow.”
“Wastedmeaning…?”
“Drunk.”
“Hightoo?”
“No,Ididn’ttakeanydrugs.ButIhadalottodrink.Iknowthat’sneveranexcuseforanything,butIthinkitmatters.Iwasstumblingaroundandsomewherealongtheway,asitgotlaterandlater,Irealizedthatnoonewasleaving.See,aparenthadcaughtontothefactthatalotofuswerewastedandfiguredit’dbesafestifwestayedontheestateuntilwesoberedup.”
Madesense,Wildethought.
“SoI’mwatchingCrashtakeoutalighter.Heflicksitandthere’saflame.AndthenhesetsNaomi’spenguinonfire.Justlikethat.Hehadthisbigsmileonhisface.Helookedaround,Ithink,becausehewantedtoseeNaomi’sreaction,andIrealizedthatshehadn’tcomebacksinceshechasedthoseguyswhotookherpenguin.”
Matthewgrabbedanappleandmovedintothelivingroom.Wildefollowedhim.
“Whathappenednext,Matthew?”
Matthewstareddownattheapple,cradlingitinhispalm,andWildewonderedwhetherhewasseeingthatpenguin.“IwishIcouldexplainhowIfelt.”
“Try.”
“Crushed.Depressed.SuttonwaswithCrashnow.Coupleswerestartingtohookupanddisappear.Ijustfelt,Idon’tknow,outofplaceandangryandstupidandI’mdrunksoallthatisjust…soIgolookingforher.ForNaomi.It’sdark.Butthankstoyou,Iknowmywayaroundthewoods.Istumbleatonepoint,andmyfacesmacksatree.I’mevendizzier.Mylipisbleeding.AndthenIfoundher.She’sjustsittingonarock.Icanseeherprofile,andinthemoonlight,Naomilooksreallypretty.Imovecloser.Shedoesn’tturn,eventhoughshehastohearme.Therearenotearsonherface.Hereyesaredry.Iaskherifshe’sokay.Shesays,‘It’sjustastupidstuffedtoy.’Andsheseemstomeanit.Likeshereallydoesn’tcare.Imovealittlecloser,andmylegskindagiveway,andIcollapsenexttoher.We’rebythatbrookbehindtheMaynards’.Iguessthenoiseissupposedtobeniceandall,butyouknowwhatIrememberthinkingatthetime?”
“No.”
“Thenoisemakesmeneedtotakealeak.SoIexcusemyself.Iduckbehindthenearesttree.That’showdrunkIam.Rightthere.Idroptrouand…anyway,Izipupandcomebackandsitwithher.Westarttalking.Itwasnice.I’veknownNaomimywholelife.Idon’tthinkweevertalkedbefore.Notlikethatanyway.Andagain,I’mdrunkandthebrookbabbleisnowkindasoothingandthere’sthemoonlightandIgotamillionthingsrushingthroughme.Idon’tknowhowlateitis.InthedistanceIseethestadiumlightsgooff.Soatsomepoint,Ikissher.Ormaybeshekissesme.Whatever,it’sconsensualonbothourparts.Idon’twantyoutothinkitwasn’t.Itwasdefinitelyokaybyher.Wemakeout.Andinmymind,Idon’tknowhowtodescribeit.Partofmeissointoit,right?Imean,mostofme.Idon’tknowifIlikeherornot.Idon’teventhinkthatmatters.Ican’texplainitbetter.”
Teenagers,Wildethought.Aboyandagirlataparty.Wemaynotlikeit,butit’sataleasoldastime.
“Youwanttohearsomethingawful?”
Wildegavehimasmallnod.
“Westartgoingatitalittleharder.Herhandisonmyleg,allthat.Andpartofmeislike,Yeah,awesome.Andpartofmeislike,Wow,lookatyou—you’rewiththebiggestloserintheschool.”Matthewstopped,raisedhishand,shookhishead.“I’mnotexplainingthisright.Anditdoesn’tmatter.Becauserightthen,withherhandonmylegandmyhandunderhershirt,abigspotlighthitsusintheface.Webothjumpback.Icanhearlaughter.Hardtomakeout,butforsureIcanhearCrashandRyanand…Naomiruns.Likearabbit.Shejumpsupandtakesoff.Ican’tevensee.Thelightisstillinmyeyes.Iraisemyhandtoblockit.Everyoneislaughingandmockingmeforbeingwithher.I’mallblinkingandIcanfeeltearsstartcoming.Ijustwanttodie,youknow?I’mthinkingI’mnevergoingtolivethisdown.Andforthenexttwomonths,Idon’t.WhereverIwasonthesocialladder,I’mtosseddowntothebottom.NotaslowasNaomi.Butdownthere.”
“Whatdidyousay?”Wildeasked.“Totheguyslaughingatyou.”
“Thatitwasnothing.ThatIwasjusthavingfun.”Heswallowed.“I…Isaidthatshe’seasy.”
“Classy.”
Matthewclosedhiseyes.Wildebackedoff.
“DidyoutalktoNaomiaboutit?”
“No.”
“Seriously?”
Matthewdidn’treply.
“Whendidyounextseeher?”
“Atschool,butweavoidedeachother.”Matthewthoughtaboutit.“Itwasmoremeavoidingher,tobehonest.Itwasreallybadforafewweeks.”
Wildewantedsoverymuchtoplayasmallairviolin.“Thisisallawful,”Wildesaid,“butI’mstillnotsurewhyyouweresoconcernedwhenshewentmissing.”
“BecauseI’mnotdonewiththestory.”
Tearsfloodedtheboy’seyes.Wildefelthisheartdrop.
“I’mgoingtoskiptheexcuses,okay?Becausethereisnoexcuse.IgotasmalltasteofwhatNaomiwentthroughforyears.Justasmalltaste.AndIcouldn’ttakeit.SowhenCrashcametomewithawaytogetbackintotheirgoodgraces,Itookit.That’sallthatmatters.Notwhy.JustthatIdidit.”
“Whatdidyoudo?”
“Itwasaprank.”
“Whatwas?”
Hedidn’treply.
“Matthew?”
“IaskedNaomitomeetme.Like,onadate.ItextedthatIwantedtoseeheragain,nottotellanyone,atthatsamespotbehindtheMaynards’.”
“Howdidshereply?”
“Shesaidyes.”Heshrugged.“Sheseemedexcited.”
Matthewclosedhiseyes.
Wildeworkedhardtokeephisexpressionneutral.“And?”
“AndIprankedher.”
“How?”
“Isortofdidn’tshow.”
“Hey,Matthew?”
Matthewlookedup.
“Thisisn’tatimetobecutewithyourwording.Whatdoyoumean,sortofdidn’tshow?”
“Ididn’tshow.AndIwassupposedtoghosthersowhenshetextedme‘whereareyou’Iwasn’tsupposedtoreply.”
“Butyoudid?”
“Yeah.”
“Whatdidyousay?”
“Isaid,‘I’msorry.’”
“Whatdidshesay?”
“Nothing.Sheneverspoketomeagain.”
Heflashedbacktothatbasement.Naomi’swordsaboutMatthew:“Heprobablyblameshimself.Tellhimheshouldn’t.Hejustwantstofitintoo.”
MaybeNaomiforgavehim,andmaybeMatthewwaslookingforabsolution,butWildewasn’tabouttobetheonetogiveittohim.
“SowhathappenedwhenNaomiwenttothebrookbyherself?”
“Crashshowedup.Othersinthegroup.”
“And?”
“AndIdon’tknow.OratleastIdidn’t.That’swhyIcontactedNana.Thenextday,Naomivanished.Ithought…well,Idon’tknowwhatIthought.Ithoughtthey’ddonesomethingtoher.”
“Likewhat?”
“Like,Idon’tknow,”hesaid,throwinguphishands.“Butitendsup,Naomiwasokay.Youfoundher.CrashjusttoldheraboutthatstupidChallengegame.Gothertogoalongwithit.That’sall.”
Wildeheardwhathethoughtmightbeacarpullingintothedriveway.Hemoveddownthehallandlookedoutthewindow.Atallmaninobviousdesignerthreadsgotoutonthedriver’ssideofashinyblackMercedes-BenzSL550.Hehurriedtothepassengerside,hopingtobeeverthegallantgentleman,butLailahadalreadyopenedthedoorandgottenouttoo.
SothatwaswhyLailahadtoldWildeshe’dbeoutlate.
Withoutanotherword,Wildepaddeddownthestairsandoutthebackdoor.Matthewwouldgetit.They’dallbeenherebefore.Lailawouldn’tbringDesignerThreadsintothehouse.Notyet.NotwithMatthewhome.Butshe’daskWildetostayawayfromherforawhileandWildewouldandLailawouldtryandintheenditwouldn’thappen.Wildeshouldn’twishforthat.Hetoldhimselfhedidn’t,thathejustwantedLailahappy.Butfornow,Lailawouldgivethisguyago—andWildewouldtakeupwithotherwomen.He’dstillseeLailaplatonically—she’dneverwanthimoutofherorespeciallyMatthew’slife—andthenonedayDesignerThreadswouldbegoneandWildewouldstaythenight.Maybethatcyclewasokay.Maybethatwashowitwassupposedtobe.OrmaybeWildeshouldmakehimselflessavailableandnotbesuchaconvenientoutforher.Maybehemadeittooeasyforhertogiveuponanewrelationship.Maybenot.Maybeshe’sbetteroffwithWildeandsheshouldforgetDesignerThreads.MaybeWildewasself-rationalizing.Andmaybe,justmaybe,heshouldn’tbedecidingwhatLailareallywantsorneedsorwhat’sbestforher.
Meanwhileitwaslate.He’dfindAvaO’Brieninthemorning.Maybethere’dbesomethingthere.Maybe,hethoughtashepausedandlistenedtotheMercedespullingoutofthedriveway,hemeantthatintwoways.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
ThefirstthingWildedidwhenheroseatfivea.m.wastocheckhistextmessages.Therewerenone.Naomihadstillnotrepliedtohistext.Whatdidthatmean?Hehadnoidea.
WildethrewonshortsandstretchedinfrontoftheEcocapsule.Themorningairwascrisp.Hesuckedinadeepbreath,feltthetingle.Wildestartedmostdayswithawalk-runthroughthewoods.Whenhereachedapeak,hetookoutthephoneandtextedAvaO’Brienandaskedtoseeheratschool.Itwasonlyfivefifteensohedidn’texpectananswer,butAvawasanearlyrisertoo,heremembered,ashewatchedthedancingdotsindicatingaresponsewascomingsoon.Shesuggestedtheteacherparkingentrancebehindthehighschoolatonep.m.Wildetypedback:
Wearebothup.HowaboutIcomeovernow?
Againthedancingdots.Then:Notagoodtime.
Wilderememberedthebigbeardedmanandnoddedtohimself:OnePM.Teacherparkingentrance.
Hefinisheduphishike,setupalawnchair,startedreading.Hehadbeenavoraciousreaderforaslongashecouldremember.Whentheparkrangersfoundhimallthoseyearsago,Wildecouldalreadyread,somethingthathadperplexedtheexperts.Surely,theyclaimed,theonlyexplanationwasthattheyoungboywaslyingorconfused—someonehadfedhimandclothedhimandeducatedhim.Hecouldn’thavetaughthimselftoread.ButasfarasWildeknew,hehad.He’dbrokenintohomesandwatchedtelevision,includingso-callededucationaltelevisionshowslikeSesameStreetandReadingRainbow.Moretothepoint,inonehousehe’dfoundeducationalvideotapesonhowtoteachyourchildtoread.
That,hewassure,washowhe’dlearnedtoread.
WhichbroughthimbacktotheDNAgenealogytest.
Hehadn’tyetlookedattheresults.Didhewantto?Didheneedthatconfusioninhislife?Hewascontentashewas.Helikedbeingaminimalistineveryway,includingthepeopleinhislife.Sowhyopenthatdoor?
Washecurious?
Heputdownhisbook.Itwasahardcovernovel.Hemostlyreadactualphysicalbooksratherthansomethingonane-reader,notbecausehedislikedthetechnologyorenjoyedthetactileexperienceofturningpages,butsimplybecauseheusedenoughelectronicequipmentuphereandsoprintedmaterial,readandthendonated,servedhimbest.
HefoundtheemailfromtheDNAsite.Twomonthsago,he’dsignedupunderanaliasandspitintothetesttube.Wildehadseveralfakealiases.Theywereinmetalstorageboxes,advertisedasbothfire-andwaterproof,buriedinthewoodswithinahundredyardsofhere.Therewasalsocashintheboxes,plusbankaccountsinallthosenames,plentyofeasywaysforWildetovanishifneedbe.
Heclickedthelinkandthenhetypedintheusernameandpasswordhe’dsetupwhenhesentinhisDNAsample.ItledtoapageannouncinghisAncestryComposition,whichinhiscasewasallovertheplace,thelargestpercentagebeingvaguely“EasternEuropean.”Sowhatdidthattellhim?Nothing.Diditchangethewayhefeltorgethimclosertoanytruth?Nope,notreally.
ThesmallerbannerunderhisAncestryCompositionread:
Youhaveoverahundredrelatives!Clickthelinktolearnmore!
Shouldhe?
Hismotherorfathercouldbebehindthatclick.Wow,whenyoufirstthoughtaboutthat.Butthenagain,sowhatiftheywere?Mostpeoplesoughttheseanswersbecausetheyfeltasthoughsomethingwasmissing,thattheanswerscouldsomehowfillsomevaguevoid.Mostpeoplewantedmorepeopleintheirlives—morefamily,morerelatives.Wildedidnot.SowhyopenthisparticularPandora’sbox?
Thenagain,ignorancewasneverbliss.Wildefirmlybelievedthat.Sowhynotclickthelink?Hedidn’tneedtodomorethantakeaquickpeekfornow.Justclickandseewhethertheinformationisoutthere.
Hetappeddownonthelink.
Wildefeltasthoughhewereacontestantonagameshowandthehostesswasdrawingacurtainandmaybethere’dbeabrand-newcarormaybethere’dbenothing.
Itturnedouttobealotclosertonothing.
Therewasnomothermatch,nofathermatch,nofull-siblingmatch,nohalf-siblingmatch.Infact,theclosestrelativelistedwasasecond-to-thirdcousinwiththeinitialsPBwhoshared2.44percentofWilde’sDNAandeightsegments.Therewasasmallgraphwiththefollowingexplanation:
YouandPBmayshareasetofgreat-grandparents.Youcouldalsobefromdifferentgenerations(removedcousins)orshareonlyoneancestor(halfcousins).
Itwassomethingmorethannothing,butnotalotmore.Hecould,heguessed,contactPBandstartworkingupsomekindoffamilytree,butrightnow,today,withNaomirunningawayandMatthewdeservedlyhauntedbywhathe’ddonetoherandLailadatingDesignerThreads(notthathecaredaboutthatlastone,heremindedhimself),theideaexhaustedhim.
Itcouldwait.
Wildehadn’tbeenbacktoSweetWaterHighSchoolsincehisowngraduation.Ashegotcloser,theghostsjoinedhim.Oratleast,oneghost.HecouldalmostfeelDavid,Matthew’sfather,sidleupnexttohim.They’dwalkedlikethistogetherprettymucheverydayuntilDavidgothislicenseduringtheirjunioryearanddrovethem.Thememoriesmovedinforthekill,butWildebattledback.
Notnow.Nodistractions.
TherehadbeennosecurityguardswhenWildehadattended.Thatwasn’tthecaseanymore.Thecrisplyuniformedrent-a-copswerebothseriousandarmed.Theyhadtheireyesonhimthemomenthehitthemainroad.Wildetookthemostvisibleapproach,smilingandkeepinghishandsinplainview.
Handsinplainviewapproachingahighschool.Whataworld.
“Whatcanwedoforyou?”thetallercopasked.
“I’msupposedtomeetAvaO’Brienintheteacherlot.”
Theotherrent-a-copsportedapencil-drawnmustacheandlookedyoungenoughtobe,ifnotstillastudenthere,thatguywhograduatedayearortwoearlierandspendsallhistimecruisingaroundtowninabeat-upsedan.HecheckedhisclipboardforWilde’snamewhilethetallercoptriedtostarehimdown.Wildedidn’tmindthatorthepat-downorthepocketemptyingorthestrollthroughthemetaldetector.Sadhowtheworldwasnow—really,didyouwanttoarmtwoguyslikethisandstickthemnearaschool?Dowereallywanttoprotectourchildrenbygivinggunstotwounderpaidcopwannabesandthenmixingtheminwithabunchofwiseassteens?Seemedarecipefordisaster.Wildehadworkedinthesecurityindustry,soheknewthatalotofhiscompetitorsstokedtheseparentalfearssotheycouldcashinwithbigschoolcontracts.
Createtheproblem—thenmonetizethesolution.
Theyoungarmedguardmadeaphonecall,andtwominuteslater,AvaO’Brienwasleadinghimdownacorridor.HelikedthewayAvawalked,whichmightseemlikeanoddthingtobethinkingabout,butthereitwas.Shelookedbeautifulandstrong.
Itmusthavebeenbetweenclassesbecausetheonlysoundwastheirfeetonthelinoleum.Wildeflashedbacktohisownyearsinthesehallways.Hestillknewhisway,ofcourse.Doyoueverforget?Whentheypassedthegymnasium,Avagesturedtotheportraitsonthewall.
“Igettoseeyourfaceeveryday.”
Therewereprobablyfiftyfacesunderthelisting“SweetWaterSportsHallofFame.”WildehadbeeninductedunderTrackandField.Hedidn’tattendtheceremony.Nothisscene.Duringhissenioryear,Wildehadsetalmosteveryrunningrecordintheschool—hurdles,sprints,miles.Theschool’sfootballcoachtriedtoconvincehimtogofortailback,butWildedidn’tliketeamsportswiththeircomraderyandrah-rahhighfives.Hedidn’tlikethefootballteaminparticular.Tootribalandclan-like.
“Youlookangryinthepicture,”Avasaid.
“Iwasaimingformacho.”
Shestudieditasecond.“I’dsayyoudidn’thitthatmark.”
“Irarelydo.”
HiseyesscanneddowntheplaquessearchingforRolaNaser.Itdidn’ttakelong.Rola’sbeamingsmile—noattemptatmachohere—hithimlikeasunburst.ThatwashowRolaNaserwas—beaming,loquacious,earnest,enthusiastic—evenathome.PrettymuchtheoppositeofWilde.Maybethatwasaforcedfacade,herwayofcompensatingforherupbringing,butifso,Wilderarelysawherbreakcharacter.
“Soccercaptain,”Avasaid,followinghiseyesandreadingRola’splaque.“Wow,shewasanall-American?”
“Rolawasthebestsoccerplayertheschooleverhad.”
“Wassheaclosefriend?”
“Sister,”Wildesaid.Then:“Fostersister.”
Avaledhimintoaclassroom-cum-art-studio.Thereweresplashesofcoloreverywhere.Wildetookitallin.Theroomwascomforting,whatwiththecreationsoftheüber-amateurishblendedinwiththesuper-gifted,thehalf-bakedsculptureswithworksthatcouldfindaplaceinamuseum.Therewasjustlifehere.Lotsoflife.
“SoIcheckedalready,”Avabegan.
Hertonewasmatter-of-fact.Wildewaited.
“Naomihasbeenoutforafewdays,”Avasaid.“Theabsencesareunexcused.Theschoolhassentoutwarningsbyemail.”
“Ihearditwasbadwhenshegotbackfromthelastdisappearance.”
“Heardfromwhom?”
“Herfather,”hesaid.NoreasontobringMatthewin.Wildequicklyupdatedherontherest—BernardPinereachingouttohim,Naomi’sbedroom,themissingclothesandbackpack.
“Yeah,itwasbad,”shesaidwhenhefinished.“Asexpected.”
“HowdidNaomireact?”
“Tothebullying?”
“Yeah.”
“Naomi,Idon’tknow,maybeshebecamewithdrawn.Itriedtogethertoopenup,butshedidn’tsharemuch.”
“Wasthereanyoneelseshemighthavetalkedto?”
“NotthatIknowof.”Avatiltedherhead.“Shetoldmeyouweretheonewhofoundher.Shesaidyoutwotalkedinherbasement.”
“Yes.”
“Shelikedyou,Wilde.”
“Ilikedhertoo.”
“Didshetellyouwhyshewentalongwiththatawfulgame?”
“Shehopedthatitwouldbeareset,”Wildesaid.
“Areset?”
“Awaytostartagainwithherclassmates.Ado-over.Shethoughtthatmaybeifshedidit,reallymadeasplash,everyonewouldlookatherdifferently.”
Avashookherhead.“Igetit,but…”
Wildesaidnothing.
“Iwishthesekidscouldunderstandhowshorthighschoolis,”shesaid.
“Theycan’t.”
“Iknow.MygrandfatherupinMaineturnedninety-tworecently.Iaskedhimwhatthatwaslike—reachingthatage.Hesaidit’safingersnap.Hesaid,‘OnedayIturnedeighteen.Ijoinedthearmy.Iheadedsouthtobasictraining.AndnowI’mhere.’Thatfast.That’swhathesaid.Likehegotontoabuswithhisdufflebagin1948andhegotoffnow.”
“Hesoundslikeacoolguy,”Wildesaid.
“Heis.I’mnotsurewhyItoldyouthat,exceptthatifit’shardforus,twoadults,tobelievethat—thatourlivesaregoingtowhizbythatfast—it’simpossibletoconvinceabulliedsixteen-year-oldgirlthattheworldisn’tthisstupidhighschool.”
Wildenodded.“SodoyouhaveanythoughtsonwhereNaomiis?”
“Ithinkwebothagreesheprobablyranaway.”
“Probably.”
Avaasked,“Didyoutryhermother?”
“Ithoughtyousaid—”
“Yeah,Iknow.Butthatwasbefore.WhatNaomisaidtoyouaboutstartingover?Shesaidsomethinglikethattometoo.ButafterwhathappenedwiththatChallengegame,sheknewthatitcouldn’thappenhere,inthistown.Thefreshstartmeantafreshplace.”
“Soyouthinkshecouldbewithhermom?”
“Naomitoldmehermotherwasgoingonatrip.Ididn’treallythinkaboutitatthetime,butmaybetherewaslonginginhervoice.”
“Doyouknowwherethemotherwasgoing?”
“Justoverseas.”
“Okay,I’llreachout.”
Avalookedatherwatch.Wildecaughtthehint.
“Youprobablyhaveaclass,”hesaid.
“Yeah.”Then:“AboutthosetextsIsentyoutheothernight.”
Wildeknewtheonesshemeant,ofcourse:Comeovertonight.I’llleavethedoorunlocked.Andthen:Imissyou,Wilde.
“Don’tworryaboutit.”
“Iwouldn’twantanythingmorethanwehad.Ijust,Imean,Ihadalonelymoment.”
“Igetthemtoo.”
“Youdo?”
Hesawnoreasontorepeathimself.
“Itwasodd,”shesaid,“whatwehad.Nowisn’tthetime.But…”
“Itwasnice,”Wildesaid.“Reallynice.”
“Butitcouldn’tlast,couldit?”Shedidn’taskitwithregretoranythinglikethat.
Wildedidn’trespond.
“Itwaslikeoneofthosevibrantcreaturesthatonlysurviveashorttime.Awholelifecyclepackedintoafewdays.”
Hethoughtthatwaswellput.“Yeah,prettymuch.”
Theybothstood.Neitherwassurewhattodo.Avasteppedtowardhimandkissedhischeek.Helookedinhereyesandalmosttoldherthathewasavailable.Almost.Buthedidn’t.
Changethesubject:“DoyouknowtheMaynardkid?”
Sheblinked,tookastepback.“Crash?Byreputation.”
“Whichis?”
“Crappy.HeusedtotormentNaomi,thoughmaybetherewassomethingmore.”
“More?”
“Hedothprotesttoomuchmethinks,”AvasaidinherbestShakespeareanaccent
“Likehehadacrushonher?”
“Iwouldn’tsaythat.He’sdatingSuttonHolmes.ButIthinkNaomifascinatesCrashinwaysthatheprobablycouldn’tquitearticulatehimself.”
“IsCrashMaynardinschooltoday?”
“Probably,why?”
“Whattimedoesschoolletout?”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Hesterdonnedherswimcapanddidlapsforforty-fiveminutesintheindoorpoolonthelowerlevelofherofficehigh-rise.Swimminglaps—freestyledownthelane,breaststrokeback—hadbeenhermajorexerciseactivityfortwodecadesnow.Beforethat,shehadn’treallylikedthepool.Changingoutofawetsuitisapain.Yousmelllikechlorine.Itdoesawfulthingstoyourhair.Itisnumbinglyboring.Butitwasthatlastpoint—numbingboredom—thateventuallysoldHesteronit.Momentsofpurealone,ofpuresilence,ofyes,pureboredom—rotestrokesyou’llrepeathundredsifnotthousandsoftimesthisveryweek—endedupbeingwhatothersconsideredZen.Withherbodyencasedinwaterandchemicals,Hesterrehearsedsummations,testimony,andcross-examinations.
Todaythough,aloneinthatpool,herbodygentlyslicingthroughthewater,shedidn’tthinkaboutwork.ShethoughtaboutOren.Shethoughtabouttonight.
It’sjustadinner,sheremindedherself.
He’daskedherout.
Itisn’tadate.Justamealwithanoldfriend.
Wrong.Amandoesn’tdrivetoyourplaceofworkandaskyoutoshareamealastwooldfriends.Thiswasnotadrill.Thiswasadate.TherealMcCoy.
Hestershowered,blewoutherhair,gotdressedinherbestpowersuit.Whenshegotofftheelevator,SarahMcLynn,herassistant,handedherabunchofmessagesthatneededherattention.Hestergrabbedthem,headedintohercorneroffice,andclosedthedoor.Shesatatherdesk,tookadeepbreath,andbroughtupthewebbrowser.
“Don’t,Hester,”shesaidoutloud.
ButsincewhendidHesterCrimsteintakeadvicefromanyone,especiallyfromHesterCrimstein?
Inthesearchfield,Hestertypedin“CherylCarmichael.”
Yep.Oren’sex.
HalfofHesterfloatedupandoutofherbodyandtsk-tskeddisapprovingly.Theotherhalf—thehalfstillinthechair—frownedatthefloatinghalfandcountered,“Yeah,right,likeyou’retoogoodforthis.”
Hesterhitthereturnbuttonandletthescreenload.ThetopsearcheswereforaCherylCarmichaelwhoworkedasaprofessoratCUNY.Uh-uh,no—thatwasdefinitelythewrongCherylCarmichael.Hesterscanneddownthepage.Shewasn’tsurewhatshe’dfindonlineaboutadivorcedwomaninhermid-to-latesixties.Butwhenshefoundtherightone—CherylCarmichaellivinginVeroBeach,Florida—whatHesteruncoveredwasfarworsethanshe’dimagined.
“MyGod…”
CherylCarmichaelwasalloversocialmedia.HerInstagramaccounthadmorethan800,000followers.HerverticalInstagrambioorwhateveryoucalleditread:
PublicFigureFitnessModelInfluencerandFreeSpirit“Ilovelife!”#Over60andFabulous
Gagme,Hesterthought.
Underthebiowasanemailaddresstowrite“ForInquiries.”Inquiries?Whatkindofinquiries?Hester’smindspiraleddownaprurientholeuntilsherealizedthatby“inquiries”shemeantpaidendorsements.Yes,forreal.
CompaniespaidCheryltoposewiththeirproducts.
LookingatthephotosondisplaymadeHester’sstomachknot.Cheryl,whousedtohaveflowinglocksdowntothemiddleofherback—HesterrememberedherattheLittleLeaguefieldintightshortsandatightertop,thedadspretendingnottostare—nowsportedthatmod,short,spikyhair.Herphysique,whichwasondisplayinmanyrisquépictureswithhashtagsreading#bikinibabe#fitgoals#squats#loveyourself#beachbum,wasallthatandmore.
Ugh.CherylCarmichaelwasstillaknockout.
Hester’smobilerang.ShecheckedthenumberandsawitwasfromWilde.
“Articulate,”shesaid.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Makingmyselffeelimmenselyinadequate.”
“Pardon?”
“Nevermind.What’sup?”
“Didthephonecompanygetbacktoyou?”Wildeasked.
HewastalkingaboutNaomi’sphone.“They’remonitoringit.Sofar,noactivity.”
“Meaningthephoneisoff?”
“Yes.”
“Cantheytellwhenandwhereitwaspoweredoff?”
“I’llcheck.DidyoutalktoMatthewlastnight?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“Anditmightbebetterifyoutalktohimdirectly.”
Wildedidn’twanttobetrayMatthew’strust.Hesterunderstood.
“Thereisoneotherthingyoucandoforme,”Wildesaid.
“I’mnotmuchinthemoodtoputalotofresourcesonthis.Imean,unlessyouhavesomerealevidenceNaomididn’tjustrunaway.”
“Fairenough,”Wildesaid.“CanyoumakeonemorecalltoNaomi’smother?”
HebrieflyfilledherinonhisconversationwithAvaO’Brientheartteacher.
“Soifthemothertookthekid,wouldn’tshetellthefather?”Hesterasked.
“Whoknows.Aquickcalltothemommightputittorest.Ifyou’retoobusy—”
“What,you’regoingtocall?Whatwouldyousay?‘Hi,I’masinglemaleinmylatethirtieslookingforyourdaughter’?”
“Goodpoint.”
“I’lldoit.”
“Youokay,Hester?”
ShewasstaringataphotographofCherylCarmichaelinaone-piecethatcouldbeacovershotfortheSportsIllustratedswimsuitissue.“I’maverageatbest.”
“Yousoundgrouchierthanusual.”
“Maybe,”shesaid.“Whereareyou?”
“Stillatthehighschool.IwanttotrytoquestiontheMaynardkid.”
***
WildehungupthecallwithHesterandturnedtoAva.
“Yousureaboutthis?”
“Yes.”
“Itmightblowbackonyou.”
Avashrugged.“I’moutattheendoftheyearanyway.Allthepart-timersare.Budgetcuts.”
“Sorry.”
Shewaveditaway.“It’stimeImovedbacktoMaineanyway.”
They’dstayedinthesameartroom.Wildehadslowlycircled,checkingoutthevariousstudentworksthroughouttheroom.Itwas,insomeways,thegreatestmuseumhe’deverseen.Thereweredrawingsandwatercolorsandsculpturesandmobilesandpotteryandjewelry,andwhilethetalentlevelwasnaturallyallovertheplace,theheartandcreativitywereneverlessthanmesmerizing.
Theystoodbythedoorandwaitedforthefinalbell.
“Thiswasn’tanartroomwhenIwashere,”hesaid.
“Whatwasit?”
“ShopwithMr.Cece.”
Shesmiled.“Didyoumakealamporfootstool?”
“Lamp.”
“Whereisitnow?”
HehadgivenittotheBrewers,hisfoster-cum-adoptiveparentswhoretiredtoagatedcommunityinJupiter,Florida.WildeandhisfostersisterRolahadhelpedtheBrewersmoveineightyearsago,rentingaU-HaulforthelongdrivedownInterstate95.Rolakeptwantingtostopatroadsideodditiesalongtheway,liketheUFOWelcomeCenterinSouthCarolinaandAmerica’ssmallestchurchinGeorgia.
Wildehadn’tbeenbacktoFloridasince.
Whenthebelltrilled,Wildeslippedintoasupplycloset.Avastoodnearthedoortothecorridor.
Twominuteslater,CrashMaynardcamein.“Youwantedtoseeme,MissO’Brien?”
Wildelefttheclosetdooropenacracksohecouldwatch.
Avasaid,“Yes,thankyou.”
Crashtouchedaclaysculpturestandingbythestool.
“That’sstilldrying,”Avawarnedhim.
“Idon’tgetwhyyoupagedme.Ihaven’ttakenanartclasssincefreshmanyear.”
“Thisisn’taboutart.Whydon’tyouhaveaseat?”
“Mymom’swaitingforme,so—”
“DoyouknowwhereNaomiPineis?”
Wildelikedthat.Noreasontoplayaround.
“Me?”Crashsaiditasthoughtheverynotionthathemightknowwasthemostshockingandincomprehensibleconcepteveruttered.“WhywouldIknow?”
“YouandNaomiareclassmates.”
“Yeah,but…”
“But?”
Crashgaveachucklethatseemedbothnervousandcockyatthesametime.“Wearen’texactlyfriendsoranything.”
“Butyoutalk.”
“No,wedon’t.”
Avafoldedherarms.“Whyshouldshetellmethatyoudid?”
“Naomisaidthat?”
“Yes.”
Crashgaveitasecond.Youcouldseethewheelsturningasanaw-shuckssmilespreadacrosshisface.“Ishouldn’tsaythis.”
“But?”
“IthinkNaomimighthaveathingforme.”
“Andifshedid?”
“Well,Imean,ifshesaidwetalked”—shrug—“Idon’tknow,maybeshewastryingtoshowofforsomething.”
“Showoff?”
“Yeah.Or,Idon’tknow,I’mnicetoherandall.So,like,ifshesayshitome,Isayhiback.”
“Wow,”Avasaid.“Thatisnice.”
Thesarcasmwentrightoverhishead.“Butreallywedon’thaveanyseriousinteraction.YouknowwhatImean?”
“IthinkIdo,”Avasaid.“NowtellmeaboutthenightMatthewghostedherorwhateveryoucallitatyourhouse.”
Silence.
“Crash?”
Heliftedhisphoneintoviewandtouchedabutton.Wildedidn’tlikethat.“Mymomistextingme,Ms.O’Brien.”
“Okay.”
“Ihavetogo.”
“Answermyquestionfirst.”
“Yeah,Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“Yes,youdo.Naomitoldme—”
“Shetoldyou?”
“Yes—”
“Thenthere’snoreasontoaskmeaboutit,”Crashsaid,which,Wildehadtoadmit,wasaprettydecentrejoinder.“I’dbetterleavenow,Ms.O’Brien.”
“Iwanttoknow—”
Crashspuntowardher,gettingalittletooclose.“Idon’tknowanythingaboutNaomiPine!”Theaw-shuckstonewasgone.“Nothing!”
Avadidn’tbackaway.“Yousawherthatnight.”
“SowhatifIdid?Shewasonmyproperty.”
“WhydidyoutellMatthewCrimsteintoprankher?”
“DidMatthewtellyouthat?”Heshookhishead.“Look,I’mallowedtoleave,right?Youcan’tforcemetostay,canyou?”
“No,ofcoursenot—”
“ThenI’moutofhere.”
Wildefigured,Whynot?Heopenedtheclosetdoorandsaid,“Icanstopyou.”Hecrossedtheroomandpositionedhimselfsothathisbackwasagainstthedoor,literallyblockingtheteen’sexit.Avashothimalookandshookherhead.Thelookandheadshakebothsaidthatthiswasn’tthewaytohandleit.
Crashscowled.“Whatisthis?”
“TelluswhereNaomiis,”Wildesaid.
Hiseyesnarrowed.“Youcametomyhousetheothernight.You’retheonewhograbbedthegunfrommyguard.”
AvashotWildeanotherlook.Heignoredit.
“You’renotintrouble,”Wildesaid,whichmayormaynothavebeentrue.“WejustneedtofindNaomi.”
ThedoorbehindWildesuddenlyburstopen,hittinghiminthebackandthrowinghimoffbalance.Thorsurgedthroughthedoor,loweringhisshoulderlikeablitzinglinebacker.Wildecursedhimself.Ofcourse,thekidwouldhavesecurity.Ofcourse,he’dusehisphonetosignalheneededhelp.StupidofWildetobecaughtoffguard.
Nowhewasinserioustrouble.
ThorleapttowardWilde.Nohesitancy.Wildewasstilltryingtogethisbearings.
Butitwastoolate.
ThorwrappedhismuscledarmsaroundWilde,hisshoulderinthemidsection,anddroveWildeback.SqueezingandliftingWilderightofftheground,Thorkepthislegsgoing,readytoslamWildeintothefloor.
Thiswasdefinitelynotgood.
Thorwasmad.ProbablyupsetaboutbeingembarrassedwhenWildedisarmedhiminfrontofhisboss.Thiswaspayback.
Wildedebatedhisnextmove.Therereallywasn’tone.Hewasoffhisfeet,inabearhug,withmillisecondsbeforehehitthefloor.Iftheywerestandingorsloweddown,hemighttrytoheadbuttthebigman’snose.ButThorhadloweredhisfaceintoWilde’schest.
Thatwouldn’twork.
Nothingwould.
Hewouldhavetobracefortheblowandrecover.Planthenextmove.
Atthelastpossiblemoment,Wildetwistedhisbodyhard.Itdidn’tstophimfromgettingslammedtotheground.Notatall.HegotslammedontheFormica,slammedhard.Theairwhooshedoutofhim.Butbytwistinghisbody,WildehadwrenchedThor’sgripenoughsothatinsteadofThor’sarmlandingonthemeatyfleshbeneaththeforearm,hiselbowtookthebruntofthefall.
Thathurttoo.
Onemanhadahurtelbow.Buttheotherman—Wilde—couldn’tbreathe.
Distance,Wildethought.
Thatwashisonlythought.Distance.Getawayfromhisattacker.PutasmuchspaceaspossiblebetweenhimselfandThor.
Regroup,recover.
Stillonthefloor,Wildetriedtoignorethedesire,nay,theabsoluteneedtobreathe.Thatwasthething.He’dhadthewindknockedoutofhimbefore.Itwasparalyzingandawful,butwhathe’dlearnedwithexperiencewasthattheparalysiswasmostlycausedbyfear—youfeelasthoughyou’llsuffocate,thatyou’llneverbreatheagain.Thatshutdowneverything.Ordersfromthebraintothefeetorlegswerecutoff.ButWildenowknew,despiteallhisprimitiveinstinctstellinghimotherwise,thathisbreathwouldeventuallyreturn,fasterifhedidn’tpanic,andsohefoughtthroughthetemptationtojuststaywherehewasandcurlupintoaballuntilhecouldrecoverhisbreath.
Withhislungsbursting,Wildelog-rolledaway.
“Getoffhim!”Avashouted.
ButThorwasrelentless.Hedoveontopofhim,drivinghiskneesintothesmallofWilde’sback.Thejoltsentwhatfeltlikeshardsofglassuphisspine.AvatriedtopullThoraway,butheshruggedherofflikesolittledandruff.Wildetriedtospin,tohelp,butThorwashavingnoneofit.HesnakedhisarmunderWilde’s,andthegrapplingbeganinearnest.Whenyoulookatoldmoviesortrainingfilms,itwasallaboutthestrikes.Menstoodandthrewpunches,sometimeskicks.Themajorityoffights,however,endedupontheground.Grapplingmatches.Thorwouldhavethesizeandweightadvantage.He’dhavetheelementofsurprise.He’dhavethefactthatWildewasstilltryingtocatchhisbreath.
Thekeytovictoryofteninvolvedsacrifice.Wildewatchedenoughfootballtoknowthatthequarterbackswhostoodinthepocket,whodidn’twinceevenwhenathree-hundred-poundlinemanwasabouttodemolishthemlikeafreighttrain,thoseweretheoneswhosucceeded.Thegreatstookthehitwhileneverlosingfocusontheirtarget.
ThatwaswhatWildedidrightnow.
Heletthebiggermanlandafewblows.Becausehehadonetarget.
Afinger.
Heshifted,knowingthatThorwouldhavetograbhimnearhisshouldertokeephiminplace.Hewaitedforthat.Heconcentratedonthat—Thor’shandheadingforhisshoulder—andonlythat.AndwhenThorreachedforhim,Wildeletgowithbothhands,grabbedoneofThor’sfingers,andbentitbackwitheverythinghehad.
Thefingerbrokewithanaudiblesnap.
Thorhowled.
Distance,Wildethought.
Herolledawayagain.HecouldseethetoxicmixofrageandpaininThor’sface.Thebigmanpreparedtolaunchhimselfagain,butavoicecutthroughtheairlikeareaper’sscythe.“That’senough.”
ItwasGavinChambers.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Onceintheschoolparkinglot,GavinChamberspackedThor,whowascradlinghisbrokenfingerasthoughitwereawoundedpet,intoablackCadillacEscaladeandsenthimonhisway.HeputasheepishCrashintoawhiteMercedes-BenzS-Classcoupe,drivenbyCrash’smother.Themother—WildeknewthathernamewasDelia—washavingnoneofit.ShegotoutofthecaranddemandedanexplanationfromGavin.Wildestoodtoofarawaytohearwhatwasbeingsaid—buthewasstillcloseenoughtogetpiercedbytheoccasionalmaternaleye-dagger.
Kidsfromtheschoolhadgathered.WilderecognizedKyleandRyanandSuttonandafewoftheotherkidsMatthewhadtoldhimaboutovertheyears.Matthewwastheretoo,lookingproperlymortified.HemetWilde’seyeasiftosay,Whatgives?Wildegavehimnothinginreturn.
Eventually,DeliaMaynardgotbackintohercar,slammedthedoor,anddroveawaywithCrashinthepassengerseat.Theonlookers,includingMatthew,dispersed.GavinChambersmadehiswaybackovertoWildeandsaid,“Let’stakeawalk.”
Theystrolledbetweenafenceandthebuilding’sbrickback.Wildecouldseethefootballfield,andmorerelevanttohispast,thequarter-miletrackthatencircledit.Thatwasthespotofhispurported“glorydays,”thoughnowavesofnostalgiawashedoverhim.Hedidn’tsuddenlyseehimselfasasprintingteenoranythinglikethat.Youmoveforwardinlife.Youmaygivetheoldyouanodeveryonceinawhile,buttheoldyouisgoneandnotcomingback.Thatwasoftenagoodthing.
“Ithoughtthegirlwasfound,”Gavinsaid.
“She’sgoneagain.”
“Youmindtellingmeaboutit?”
“Yeah,Ido.”
Gavinshookhishead.“Whatyoudidhere—confrontingthekidlikethat,injuringmyman—itmakesmelookbad.”Hestopped.“Ithoughtwehadanunderstanding.”
“ThatwasbeforeNaomivanishedagain.”
“AndyouhaveevidencethatCrashisinvolved?”
Wildedidn’tsayanything.
Gavinputhishandtohisear.“Ican’thearyou.”
“ItwaswhyIwasaskinghimquestions.”
“Ithinkyouwentalittletoofar,don’tyou?Hismotherisfurious.Shewantstoreporttheartteacher.”
“It’sonme,nother.”
“Nobleofyou,butI’mnotsuretheschoolboardwillagree.”
“Threateningtheschoolteacher’sjob,”Wildesaidwithasmallshakeofthehead.“That’skindofbeneathyou,isn’tit?”
Gavinsmiled.“Itis,yes.Ireaduponyou,Wilde.Mostofyourmilitaryrecordisclassified,but,well,I’mnotwithoutmeans.Veryimpressive.Yourwholelifestoryis.ButasIsaidbefore,Ihavethemanpowerandresources.Sohereisournewdeal.I’llquestionthekidforyou.IfCrashMaynardknowsanythingaboutthisgirl,I’lltellyou.”
Theykeptwalking.
“Ihaveaquestion,”Wildesaid.
“I’mlistening.”
“Lasttimewetalkedyousaidtherewasmuchmoreatstakeherethanateenagebrawl.”
“Isthataquestion?”
“What’satstake?”
“Youdon’twanttoknow.”
“Seriously?”
GavinChamberssmiled.“IthasnothingtodowithNaomiPine.”
“DoesithavesomethingtodowithRustyEggers?”
AnotherblackCadillacEscaladepulledinfrontofthem.Gavinslappedhimonthebackandmovedtowardit.
“Stayintouch,”hesaidtoWilde,“butstayaway.”
***
WhenWildeenteredthewoodsonhiswaybacktotheEcocapsule,Matthewwaswaitingforhim,pacing,hishandsintightfists.“Whatthehellwasthatallabout?”
“Youseemupset,”Wildesaid.
Wildeheadedupthepath.Matthewfellinbehindhim.
“Well?”
“Wellwhat?”
“Whatwereyoudoingatmyschool?”
“IaskedCrashMaynardaboutNaomi.”
“Atmyschool?Areyoukiddingme?”
“Thataproblem,Matthew?”
“Ihavetogotoschoolhere.Yougetthat,right?”
Wildestopped.
“What?”Matthewasked.
“Didyoualreadyforgetwhatyoudidtoher?”
Thatshuttheboyup.WildewatchedtheblooddrainfromMatthew’sface.Thewoodsstoodsilent,solemn.Matthew’svoice,whenhefoundit,wassoft.“No.”
Hischinwasdown—andahdamn,justlikeDavid.Theechoofthefatherwassostrongontheson’sfacerightnowthatWildealmosttookastepback.Afewsecondslater,Matthew’schinrose.HesawtheexpressiononWilde’sfaceandsnapped,“Cutthatout.”
“I’mnotdoinganything.”
“Yeah,youare,”Matthewsaid.“YouknowIhatewhenyougivemethat‘ohmyGod,helookslikehisdad’face.”
Wildecouldn’thelpbutsmile.“Fairenough.”
“Juststopit.”
“Okay,I’msorry.”Wildemimedwipingawaytheexpressiononhisfacewithhishand.“See?”
Matthewsighed.“Youcanbesolame.”
Wildesmiled.
“What?”
“That’sthekindofthingyourfatherwouldhavesaid.”
Matthewrolledhiseyes.“Willyoustop?”
HeoftenwarnedMatthewthathewouldbringuphisfather,likeitornot.Hedidn’tdoittoappeaseDavid’sghostoranyofthat—deadwasdeadinWilde’sworldview—butforMatthew.Hehadbeenrobbedofhisfather.Itdoesn’tmeanheshouldberobbedofthememoryorinfluence.
“SowhatwouldSaintDadsayaboutthis?”Matthewaskedinthemostgrudgingtonehecouldmuster.
“Aboutwhat?”
“AboutwhatIdidtoNaomi?”
“He’dbepissed.”
“Wouldhegroundme?”
“Ohyeah.He’dalsomakeyouapologize.”
“Itriedto.”Then:“Iwill.”
“Cool.Andyourdadwasn’tasaint.Hemessedupplenty.Buthealsomadeamends.”
Theywereheadingacrosstheravine,notfarfromtheEcocapsule,whenMatthewsaid,“Always?”
“Alwayswhat?”
“Didhealwaysmakeamends?”
Wildefeltsomethingflutterinsidehischest.“Hetried.”
“Momthinksyou’rehidingsomethingaboutthenightoftheaccident.”
Wildedidn’tbreakstride,butthewordsstung.“Shetoldyouthat?”
“Areyou?”
“No.”
Mattheweyedhim.ForgetDavid—thekidwasmorelikeLailawhenhegavehimtheskepticaleye.ThenMatthewblinkedandsaid,“Doesn’tmatter,doesit?He’sdeadeitherway.”
Wildethoughtaboutitanddecidedthathiscommentdidn’trequirearesponse.
Matthewasked,“SowhatdidCrashtellyou?”
Thesubjectchangeplusthealternatedefinitionoftheword—“Crash”thenameasopposedto“crash”asintheaccident—threwhimforamoment.“Notmuch.Butheseemednervous.”
“Soyouthink,what,thatCrashdidsomethingtoNaomi?”
“Allsignsstillindicatesheranoffonherown.”
“But?”
“Butsomethingisn’taddingupforme.”
Matthewsmiledatthat.“Didn’tyouteachmethatthereisalwayschaos?”
“Anomaliesaretobeexpected,butthereisstillacertainpatterntothechaos.”
“Apatterntothechaos,”Matthewrepeated.“Thatdoesn’tmakemuchsense.”
Trueenough,Wildethought.
“Ithink…”Matthewstammered.“IthinkwhatIdidtoNaomithatnight.Notshowingup.Ifeelguilty,Iguess.Thisisallmyfaultinsomeways,right?”
Matthewwaited.Wildewaited.
ThenWildesaid,“Youwantmetosaysomethingcomfortinghere?”
“Onlyifyoufeelit.”
“Idon’t.”
TheyarrivedattheEcocapsule.Matthew,theonlyguestheeverhadouthere,likedtodohomeworkinthetighterconfines.“Fewerdistractions,”hetoldWilde.Matthewwantedtostudyforaphysicstest.Thekidwasgoodinthesciences.Wildestayedoutsideandreadhisbook.
Twohourslater,Matthewemerged.
“Goodstudysesh?”Wildeasked.
“Yes,thankyou.Andneversay‘sesh’again.”
TheymadethetrekbacktowardMatthew’shouse.Whentheyarrived,Wildesaidhewantedsomewater.Normallyhe’dleaveoncehemadesureMatthewwasinside,butwhatwiththestrangenessaroundNaomiandevenCrash,itmightpaytohangarounduntilhismothergothome.
HealsowantedtoseeLailafortworeasons.ThefirstwaswhatMatthewhadjusttoldhim—thatLailastillquestionedtheofficialaccountofwhathappenedonthattreacherousmountainroadallthoseyearsago.
“Matthew?”
“Yeah?”
WildethoughtbacktoAva’sconversationwithCrash.“Anythingyou’rekeepingfromme?”
“Huh?”
“AboutNaomi.”
“No.”
Matthewhandedhimtheglassofwater.Thenheheadeduptohisbedroomandclosedthedoor.Hedidn’ttellWildewhathewasuptoandWildedidn’task.Wildesatinthedenandwaited.Atsevenp.m.,Laila’scarglidedintothedriveway.Hestoodwhensheopenedthedoor.
“Hey,”Lailasaidwhenshesawhim.
“Hey.”
“I’vebeenmeaningtotalktoyou,”Lailasaid.
Thiswasthesecond—andmoreimportant—reasonWildehadstayed.
“Yeah,Iknow,”Wildesaid.
Lailastopped.“Youknow?”
“IwasheretheothernightwithMatthewwhenyoupulledup.Iduckedouttheback.”
“Oh,”Lailasaid.
“Yeah.”
“Earlydays,”Lailasaid.“Idon’tknowifit’llgoanywhere—”
“Youdon’tneedtoexplain—”
“—butitmight.”
Lailajustlookedathim.Hegotthemessage.ShewasreadytotaketherelationshipwithDesignerThreadstothenextlevel.Thephysicallevel,forthoseslowonthetake.
“Noworries,”Wildesaid.
“Plentyofworries,”Lailacountered.
“Imean—”
“Iknowwhatyoumean,Wilde.”
Henoddedandstood.“Ibettergo.”
“Itwon’tbeweird,right?”
“Itneveris,isit?”
“Sometimesitis,yeah,”Lailasaid.“Andsometimesyoustayawaytoomuch.”
“Idon’twanttointrude.”
“Youwon’tintrude.ButMatthewstillneedsyou.Istillneedyou.”
Hecrossedtheroomandkissedhercheekwithalmosttoomuchtenderness.“I’llbeherewhenyouneedme.”
“Iloveyou,Wilde.”
“Iloveyoutoo,Laila.”
Hesmiled.Shesmiled.Wildefeltsomethinginhischestcrackalittle.Laila…well,hedidn’tknowwhatshefelt.
“Goodnight,”hesaid,andleftbythebackdoor.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Hesterchosetherestaurant—RedFarm,amoderndimsumjointthatmixesdeliciouswithcasualandatouchoffoodhumor.Herfavoritedumplings,forexample,werecalled“PacMan”andlookedliketheghostlycreaturesfromtheoldvideogame.RedFarmdidn’ttakereservations,butHestercameoftenandsosheknewaguywhocouldgetheracornertablewhensheneededit.Thevibeherewascreativeandcoolratherthanromanticandquiet,buthey,firstdate.
Nopressure,right?
OrenhadtrustedHestertoorder.Nowthetablewasloadedupwithdumplings—three-colorvegetable,shrimpandmango,porkandcrabsoup(anotherfavorite),crispyoxtail,blacktrufflechicken.
“Heaven,”Orenmutteredbetweenbites.
“Youlike?”
“It’ssodeliciousI’malmostforgettinghowwonderfulthecompanyis.”
“Smoothline,”Hestersaid.“CanIaskyouaboutyourex-wife?”
Hischopstickshadjustclampeddownonadumpling.“Seriously?”
“I’mnotgoodwithsubtlety.”
“Nicedemonstrationofthat.”
“Andit’sonmymind.”
“Myex-wifeisonyourmind?”
“Ijusthaveafewquestions.IcansithereandletthemdistractmeorIcanjustaskthem.”
Orenpickedupthedimsum.“Idon’twantyoudistracted.”
“IfoundCheryl’sInstagrampage.”
“Ah,”hesaid.
“You’veseenit?”
“Ihaven’t,no.Idon’tdosocialmedia.”
“Butyouknowaboutit?”
“Ido,yes.”
“Doyoustillthinkabouther?”
“I’msupposedtoanswerno,right?”
“Isawthepics.”
“Uh-huh.”
“SoIdon’tblameyou.”
“OfcourseIstillthinkabouther—butnotlikethat.Weweremarriedfortwenty-eightyears.DoyoustillthinkofIra?”
Hesterdidn’tanswerrightaway.Shehadtriedonadozenoutfitsbeforesettlingonthisdress.ItwasonlyasshecaughtherreflectioninawindowonthestreetthatsherealizeditwasadressIraalwayssaidmadeherlooksexy.
“Webothhavepasts,Hester.”
“Ijust…”Shewasn’tsurehowtoputit.“We’resodifferent.CherylandI.”
“Yes.”
“Iknowthisisonlyafirstdate,butshe’sjustso…sexy.”
“Soareyou.”
“Don’tpatronizeme,Oren.”
“I’mnot.Igetit.Butthisisn’tacompetition.”
“ThankGodforthat.YousaidCherylleftyou.”
“Shedidandshedidn’t.”
“Meaning?”
“IthinkIleftherfirst.Atleastemotionally.SheleftmebecauseinpartIlefther.”Heputdownhischopsticksandwipedhisnapkinwithhischin.Hismovementsweredeliberatenow.“Whenthekidsweregone,IthinkCherylfeltadrift.Youknowourtown.It’saboutraisingfamilies.Whenthat’sgone,well,you,Hester,haveacareer.ButCheryljustlookedaroundherandthekidsaregoneandI’mstillgoingtoworkeverydayandshe’seitherathomeorplayingtennisorgoingtoZumbaorwhatever.”
“Soshejustendedit?”
“Oneofusdoesn’thavetobeatfault.Divorcedoesn’tmeanyourmarriagewasafailure.”
“Uh,sorrytodisagree,butdivorceseemstobeprettymuchthedefinitionofafailedmarriage.”
Orenclenchedhisjawandturnedawayforamoment.“CherylandIhadtwenty-eightyearstogether.Weraisedthreegoodkids.Wehaveagrandchildandanotherontheway.Putitthisway:Ifyouownedacarfortwenty-eightyearsandthenitbreaksdown,doesthatmakethecarafailure?”
Hesterfrowned.“Thatanalogyisastretch.”
“Thenhowaboutthisone?Iflifeisabook,wearebothstartingnewchapters.She’llalwaysbeimportanttome.I’llalwayswishherhappiness.”
“She’sjust—tocontinuewiththisanalogy—notinyourchaptersanymore?”
“Exactly.”
Hestershookherhead.“God,that’ssomatureIwanttobarf.”
Orensmiled.“NotuntilItrythatcrispyoxtaildimsumplease.”
“Okay,onefinalquestion,”Hestersaid.
“Fine,goahead.”
Hestercuppedherhandsinfrontofherchest.“Cherylhadaboobjob,right?Imean,thosepuppiesarehighenoughtodoubleasearrings.”
OrenlaughedasHesterfeltherphonevibrate.Shecountedthepulsesinherhead.
“Threepulses,”shesaid.“Ihavetotakeit.”
“What?”
“Onepulseisjustaregularcall.Twopulsesmeansit’swork.Three,it’ssomethingimportantandIshouldpickitup.”
Orengesturedwithbothhands.“Pickitupalready.”
Sheputthephonetoherear.ItwasSarahMcLynnfromheroffice.
“What’sup?”Hesterasked.
“Areyouonyourdate?”
“You’reinterruptingit.”
“Sneakaphotoofhim.Iwanttosee.”
“Wasthereanotherreasonforthiscall?”
“Doestherehavetobe?”
“Sarah.”
“Fine.IreachedouttoNaomi’smotherlikeyouasked.”
“And?”
“Andsherefusestotalktoyou.Shesaidtomindyourownbusinessandhungup.”
***
GavinChamberswasatthewindowofhisofficehigh-riseinmidtown,lookingdownatthe“protestors”—aragtaggroupofaginggrunge-olathatprobablynumberednomorethantwenty—mullinginsidethebuilding’scourtyard.Thechant—“Releasethetapes!”—washardlycatchingfire.Thequasi-vagrantsheldupsignsforeveryleft-wingcause.Twoofthewomendonnedfadedpinkknitcaps.Accordingtothevarioussigns,theywantedtoFreePalestine,Resist,AbolishICE—buttheirheartsdidn’tseemtobeinittoday.ThemarchlookedtoGavinmorelikealanguidsway.
Deliajoinedhimatthewindow.“Isn’tthat—?”
“SaulStrauss,”Gavinsaidwithanod.Hisoldwarbuddywasn’thardtospot,Saulbeingclosetosixsixandsportingthelonggrayponytailthatwassoonpointitcouldonlybetheretobeonpoint.
Dashfinishedupaphonecallandmovednexttohiswife.TherewasaneasebetweenDashandDelia,always,aflow,andwhileGavinhadhadplentyofgreatrelationshipsinhislife,heenviedthesetwo.Peoplecanfoolyou—theyfoolyoueveryday—butGavinhadbeenhangingaroundtheMaynardslongenoughtorecognizethatDashandDeliaweretherealdeal,thekindoflovethatmakesyours,nomatterhowgood,seemsomewhatinadequate.Itwasn’tjustwhattheysaid.Itwasn’tjusthowtheylookedateachotherorcasuallytouched.Therewasanintangiblehere,thatmixofgreatfriendshipandphysicalattraction,andmaybethatwassomethingGavinwasprojectingonthem,butwhentheytalkaboutasoulmate,onepersoninthisworldthatisperfectforyouandalmostimpossibletofind,DashandDeliaseemedtohavedonejustthat.
“Whatdotheprotestorswant?”Deliaasked.
“Youcanhearthem,”Gavinsaid.“Theywantthetapes.”
“Therearenotapes,”Deliareplied.
“Theydon’tbelievethat.”
“Doyou,Gavin?”sheasked.
“Doesn’tmatter.”
“That’snotananswer.”
“I’llprotectyoueitherway.”
Dashfinallyspoke.“That’snotwhatsheasked.”
GavinlookedatDash,thenbackatDelia.“Ofcoursetherearetapes,”Gavinsaid.“AretheyasdamagingtoRustyasourhemp-adornedfriendsbelowwouldliketobelieve?Notformetosay.”
Dashmovedbacktowardhisofficedesk.“Youunderstandthesituationthen.”
Gavindidn’tbotherwitharesponse.
“Wearen’tsafe,”Deliasaid,movingwithherhusband.“IfCrashcouldbeapproachedlikethatinhisveryschool—”
“Thatwon’thappenagain.”
Dashputhisarmaroundhiswife’sshoulder.AgainGavincouldn’thelpbutnoticetheease,thenaturalness,thetenderness,inthiseverydaymove.“Notgoodenough.”
“Whowasthatman?”Deliaasked.
“Crashdidn’ttellyou?”
Deliashookherhead.“HesaidhekeptaskingaboutNaomiPine.”
“TheycallhimWilde.”
“Wait,he’sthatweirdmountainguytheyfoundinthewoods?”
“Yes.”
“Idon’tgetit.WhatdoeshehavetodowithNaomiPine?”
“HeissomethingofasurrogateparentforMatthewCrimstein.Forsomereason,MatthewandhisfamilyareinterestedinNaomi’swhereabouts.”
“Crimstein,”Dashrepeated.“AsinHester?”
“Yes.”
Noonelikedthat.
“Crashswearshedoesn’tknowanythingaboutNaomi,”Deliasaid.WhenGavindidn’trespond,sheasked,“Doyouthinkhedoes?”
“Crashhasbeenintouchwithher.NaomiPine,Imean.Asyouprobablyknow,shedisappearedaweekorsoagoplayingagamecalledChallenge.”
“Someofthemothersweretalkingaboutthat.”
“Crash…encouragedhertodoit.”
“Areyousayingheforcedher?”
“No,butpeerpressurewasamajorfactor.”
“Youdon’tthinkCrashdidsomethingbadtothisgirl,doyou?”
“Verydoubtful,”Gavinsaid.“He’stoomonitored.”
Theybothwerevisiblyrelieved.
“Butthatdoesn’tmeanheknowsnothingaboutit.”
“Sowhatdowedo?Idon’tlikethis.”Delialookeddownatthecourtyardagain.SaulStrausswasstaringstraightup,almostasthoughhecouldseethemthroughtheone-waywindows.“Idon’tlikeanyofthis.”
“Iwouldsuggestthefamilytakeabitofabreakfromthistown.Maybetraveloverseas.”
“Why?”
“PeopleperceiveRustyEggersasanexistentialthreat.”
GavinChamberswaitedforoneofthemtoarguethispoint.Neitherdid.
Deliasaid,“Gavin?”
“Yes.”
“Wearesafe,right?Youwon’tletanythinghappentoourson.”
“You’resafe,”Gavinsaid.“He’ssafe.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Matthewmadehimselfapeanutbutterandjellysandwich,sataloneatthekitchentable,ateit,stillfelthungry,madeasecond,andwaseatingwhentherewasaknockonhisbackdoor.
Helookedoutthewindowandwassurprised—closertoshocked—toseeCrashMaynard.Preparedforanything,Matthewcarefullyopenedthedoorhalfway.
“Hey,”Crashsaid.
“Hey.”
“CanIcomeinasecond?”
Matthewdidn’tmoveoropenthedooranywider.“What’sup?”
“Ijust…”Crashusedhissleevetowipehiseyes.Helookedoutattheyard.“Rememberwhenweusedtoplaykickballouthere?”
“Infifthgrade.”
“WesatnexttoeachotherinMr.Richardson’sclass,”Crashsaid.“Hewasoutthere,wasn’the?”
“Yeah.”
“Buthewasalsokindaawesome.”
“Hewas,”Matthewagreed.
“Weweretightthen,remember?”
“Yeah,”Matthewsaid.“Iguess.”
“Itwaseasier.”
“Whatwas?”
“Everything.Noonereallycaredaboutwhohadthebighouseorwhatotherpeoplethought.Wejust…wecaredaboutkickball.”
Matthewknewthiswasn’texactlytrue.Itmayhavebeenamoreinnocenttime,butitwasn’tthatinnocent.
“Whatdoyouwant,Crash?”
“TosayI’msorry.”
Tearsstreameddownhischeeks.Hisvoicewasmoreasobnow.
“I’msodamnsorry.”
Matthewsteppedback.“Whydon’tyoucomein?”
ButCrashdidn’tmove.“Thereissomuchshitgoingdownaroundmyhouserightnow.Iknowthat’snoexcuse,butit’slikeI’mlivingontopofavolcanoandI’mwaitingforittoerupt.”
Gonewasthehigh-school-hallwayconfidence,theswagger,thesneer.Matthewwasn’tsurewhattomakeofthis,butsomethingfeltverywrong.“Comeonin,”hetriedagain.“WeusedtodrinkYoo-hoo,right?Ithinkmymomstillhassomeinthefridge.”
Crashshookhishead.“Ican’t.They’llbelookingforme.”
“Who?”
“Ijustwantedyoutoknow,okay?I’mreallysorryIhurtyou.AndNaomi.WhatIdid…”
“Crash,justcomein—”
ButCrashwasalreadyrunningaway.
***
Wildedidn’tfeellikegoingbacktohisEcocapsuleyet.
Hisregularhangout—asmuchasonecouldsayhehadsuchathing—wasabarlocatedintheatriumlobbyoftheglass-toweredSheratonhotelonRoute17inMahwah,NewJersey.Thehoteladvertiseditselfas“unfussyyetupscale,”whichseemedprettyclosetothetruth.Thiswasahotelforbusinesspeople,hereforonenight,maybetwo,andthatworkedforboththeguestsandWilde.
TheSheraton’sbarhadaniceopenfeel,beinginaglassatrium.Thebartenders,likeNicoleMcCrystalwhogavehimawelcomingsmileasheentered,stayedthesame,whiletheclientele,mostlyyoungexecutivesblowingoffalittlesteam,constantlychanged.Wildelikedhotelbarsforthatlatterreason—thetransientnature,theopenness,theroomsandbedsbeingconvenientlylocatedonlyanelevatorrideawayshouldtheybeneeded.
Wasittoosoon?
Probably,buthowlongshouldWildegiveit?Aweek?Twoweeks?Thewaitseemedarbitraryandunnecessary.Hewasn’theartbroken.NeitherwasLaila.
Itwaswhatitwas.
“Wilde!”Nicolecalledout,clearlyhappytoseehim.
Shebroughthimabeer.Whenitcametobeer,hewas,likethehotel,“unfussy,”butheenjoyedwhateverlocalalewasontap.Today,thatwasa“blondelager”fromtheAsburyParkBrewery.Nicoleleanedoverthebartobusshischeek.Tomdownattheotherendgavehimawave.
“Beenawhile,”shesaidtohim.
Nicolesmiled.Shehadakindsmile.
“Yeah.”
“Backontheprowl?”
Hedidn’treplytothatonebecausehedidn’tyetknowtheanswer.
Sheleanedtowardhim.“Afewpastconquestswereaskingaboutyou.”
“Don’tcallthemthat.”
“Whatnamewouldyouprefer?”Aguybellieduptotheotherendofthebarandraisedhishand.Nicolesaid,“ThinkitoverandI’llbebacklater.”
Wildetookadeepsipfromhismugandlistenedtothehumofthehotel.Hisphonebuzzed.ItwasHester.
“Wilde?”
Hecouldbarelyhearheroverthebackgroundnoiseonherend.“Whereareyou?”heasked.
“Atarestaurant.”
“Isee.”
“I’monadate.”
“Isee.”
“WithOrenCarmichael.”
“Isee.”
“You’reagreatconversationalist,Wilde.Suchenthusiasm.”
“Doyouwantmetoyell,‘Yippee’?”
“Naomi’smotherwon’ttalktome.”
“Whatdoyoumeanbythat?”
“WhatdoyouthinkImean?Imeanshewon’ttalktome.Sherefusestoreturnmycalls.Shesaysherdaughterisnoneofmybusiness.”
“SoNaomiiswithher?”
“Idon’tknow.Iwasgoingtosendmyinvestigatorovertoherhouse,butgetthis:She’svacationinginthesouthofSpain.”
“SomaybeNaomiistravelingwithher.MaybeNaomineededtoescapeallthebullyingsohermothertookhertoSpain.”
“Whereareyou,Wilde?”
“I’mattheSheratonbar.”
“Careful,”Hestersaid.“Youholdyourliquorlikeaneighteen-year-oldco-edatherfirstmixer.”
“What’samixer?”
“You’retooyoungtoknow.”
“Forthatmatter,what’saco-ed?”
“Funny.Let’stalkinthemorning.IhavetogetbacktoOren.”
“You’reonadate,”Wildesaid.Then:“Yippee.”
“Wiseass.”
Atsomepoint,WildefoundhimselftalkingtoSondra,aredheadinherearlythirtieswithtightslacksandaneasylaugh.Theysatatthequietendofthebar.She’dbeenborninMorocco,whereherfatherhadbeenworkingfortheembassy.“HewasCIA,”shetoldhim.“Prettymuchallembassyemployeesarespies.NotjusttheUSAones.Allover.Imean,thinkaboutit.Yougettobringinwhoeveryouwanttoaprotectedlocationintheheartofaforeigncountry—ofcourseyou’regoingtosendyourbestcounterintelligencepeople,right?”Sondrahadmovedaroundalotasakid,embassytoembassy,mostlyinAfricaandtheMiddleEast.“Myhairfascinatedthem.Therearesomanysuperstitionssurroundingredheads.”She’dgonetoUCLAandloveditandgotadegreeinhotelmanagement.Shewasdivorcedandhadoneson,agesix,athome.“Idon’ttravelmuch,butIdothistripeveryyear.”Hersonwasstayingwithhisdad.Sheandherexgotalong.ShelikedstayingatthisSheraton.Theyalwaysupgradedherroomtothepresidentialsuite.“Youhavetoseeit,”shesaidinatonethatcouldknockamovieratingfromPGtoR.“Topfloor.YoucanseetheskylineofNewYorkfromit.It’sthreerooms,solike,ifwejustwantedtohaveadrinkinthelivingroomspace,Imean,Idon’twantyoutothink…”
EventuallySondragavehimakeycard.
“TheygavemetwowhenIcamein,”Sondraquicklyexplained.“Oneforthelivingroom,oneforthebedroom,youknowwhatImean?”
Wilde,stillnursinghissecondblondelager,assuredherthathedid.
“Anyway,Ican’tsleepyetwiththetimechange.I’mgoingtodosomeworkinthelivingroom,ifyouwanttocomeuplaterandhaveanightcap.”
Nightcap.Mixer.Co-ed.Itwaslikehewaslivingin1963.
HethankedSondrabutpromisednothing.Sheheadedtotheelevator.Hestaredatthekeycardsoasnottostareather.Adrink,she’dsaid.Inthelivingroom—notthebedroom.Maybethatwasallitwas.Maybeitwasnothingmorethanthat.
Thenatallmanwithaponytailasked,“Areyougoingtogoup?”
Thetallmangrabbedthestoolrightnexttohim,despitethefactthattherehadtobetwentyopenones.
“She’sveryattractive,”thetallmansaid.“Ilikeredheads,don’tyou?”
Wildesaidnothing.
Thetallmanstuckouthishand.“MynameisSaul,”hesaid.
“Strauss,”Wildeadded.
“YouknowwhoIam?”
Wildedidn’treply.
“Well,I’mflattered.”
WildehadseenStraussonHester’sshoweveryonceinawhile.Hewasagoodtalkinghead—anendearingmixofthatsuper-progressivecollegeprofessorwiththecredofbeingabonafidewarhero.Wildewasnotafanofpundits.Theycameontelevisiontoeitherconfirmyournarrativeorpissyouoff,andeitherway,thatwasn’thealthyforanyone.
“Ididn’tcatchyourname,”Strausssaid.
“Butyouknowit.”
“Doesanyone?”HegaveWildeaninquisitivelookthatmustwowthecollege—touseHester’svernacular—co-eds.“TheycallyouWilde,right?You’retheinfamousboyfromthewoods.”
Wildepulledoutthenecessarybillsfromhiswalletanddroppedthemonthebar.“Itwasnicemeetingyou,”hesaid,rising.
Strausswasunruffled.“Soyou’regoinguptoherroom?”
“Seriously?”
“Idon’tmeantopry.”
“Hey,Saul—canIcallyouSaul?”
“Sure.”
“Whydon’tweskiptherestoftheforeplayandgettoit?”
“Isthatyourplanwhenyougoupstairs?”Straussquicklyraisedapalm.“Sorry,thatwasgoingtoofar.”
Wildestartedtowalkaway.
Strausssaid,“Ihearyouhadarun-inwiththeMaynardkidtoday.”
Wildeturnedbacktohim.
“Youaskedmetoskiptheforeplay,right?”Strausssaid.
“Heardfromwhom?”
“Ihavemysources.”
“Andtheyare?”
“Anonymous.”
“Byethen.”
StraussputhishandonWilde’sforearm.Hisgripwassurprisinglystrong.“Itcouldbeimportant.”
Wildehesitated,butthenhesatbackdown.Hewascurious.Strausswasapartisan—whowasn’tnowadays?—buthe’dalsohitWildeassomethingofastraightshooter.Instinctively,Wildehadthoughtthatthebestmovewastosimplyblowthemanoff,butwithalittlemoretimetoreason,hestartedtowonderwhathehadtolosebylisteninghere.
Notathing.
Wildesaid,“I’mlookingforateenagegirlwhoprobablyranaway.”
“NaomiPine.”
Wildeshouldn’thavebeensurprised.“Yoursourcesaregood.”
“You’renottheonlyoneherewhoisex-military.WhatdoesCrashMaynardhavetodowithNaomiPine?”
Strausswasallbusinessnow.
“Maybenothing.”
“But?”
“She’sanoutcast.He’sMr.Popular.Yetthere’sbeensomeinteraction.”
“Couldyoubemorespecific?”Straussasked.
“Whydon’tyouaskyour‘source’?”
“DoyouknowanythingabouttheMaynards’relationshipwithRustyEggers?”
“IknowthatMaynardwashisproducer.”
“DashMaynardcreatedEggers.”
“Okay.”
Straussleanedincloser.“DoyourealizehowdangerousEggersis?”
Wildesawnoreasontoanswerthatone.
“Doyou?”Straussinsisted.
“Let’ssayIdo.”
“Andyou’veheardabouttheMaynardtapes?”
“Idon’tseetheconnection,”Wildesaid.
“Theremaynotbeone.Wilde,canIaskyouafavor?Notafavorreally.You’reapatriot.Youwantthosetapesreleased,I’msure.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatIwant.”
“Iknowyouwantthetruth.Iknowyouwantjustice.”
“AndIdon’tknowthatyoubringeitherofthosethings.”
“Truthisanabsolute.Oritusedtobe.TheMaynardtapesshouldbereleasedbecausethepeopleshouldknowthetruthaboutRustyEggers.Whocanarguewiththat?Ifthepeopleseethetruth—thefulltruth—andstillwanttohandthekeystothecountrytothisnihilist,okay,that’sonething.”
“Saul?”
“Yes.”
“Gettothepoint.”
“Justkeepmeinformed—andI’llkeepyouinformed.It’syourbestbetforfindingthatgirl.Youservedadmirablybecauseyoulovethiscountry.ButEggersisathreatlikenonethiscountryhasfacedbefore.He’shoodwinkingthisnationwithhischarisma,buthissupposed‘manifesto’isreallyacallforanarchy.It’llleadtofoodshortages,worldwidepanic,constitutionalcrises,andevenwar.”Saulslidalittlecloserandloweredhisvoice.“SupposetheMaynardtapesshowtherealRustyEggers.Supposetheyopenpeople’seyestothegravedangersrightinfrontofthem.Thisisbiggerthananymissionweundertookoverseas,Wilde.Youhavetobelievemeonthat.”
HehandedWildeacardwithhismobilephoneandemail.Thenheslappedhimonthebackandwalkedpastthereceptiondesktowardthedoor.
***
WildepocketedSaulStrauss’sbusinesscardandstood.
Hemeanderedtowardthelobbybathroom,urinatedforafairlylongtime,then—toquote-paraphraseSpringsteen—hecheckedhislookinthemirrorandwantedtochangehisclothes,hishair,hisface.Hesplashedwateronhischeeksandtidiedhimselfupasbesthecould.Hewalkedtotheglasselevatorandpressedtheupbutton.Nicolethebartendercaughthiseyeandgaveasmallnod.Hedidn’tknowhowtoreaditorifitmeantanythingatall,sohegaveherasmallnodback.
Togettothetopflooryouneededtoslideakeycardintotheslot.HedidthatwiththecardSondrahadgivenhim.Herodeup,leaningagainsttheglass,lookingdownasthelobbygrewsmallerandsmaller.Facesswirledthroughhismind’seye—Matthew,Naomi,Crash,Gavin,Saul,Hester,Ava,Laila.Laila.
Shit.
Hegotoutandheadeddownthecorridor.HestoppedinfrontofthedoorwiththebrasssignreadingPRESIDENTIALSUITEinfancyscript.Helookedathiskeycard.Helookedatthedoor.Sondrawasbeautiful.Youcouldcriticizethistypeofrelationshiporlabelitorconsideritemptyorwhateverotherjudgmentcardyoufeellikepullingout,butitwasallamatterofperspective.HeandSondracouldlinkupandhavesomethingspecial.Justbecauseitdidn’tlastdidnotmakeitlessso.Cliché,sure,buteverythingdies.Abeautifulroselivesbutashorttime.Certaintermitescansurviveforsixtyyears.
ABonJovisongcametomind.Man,firstBrucenowJon.HowNewJerseycouldhebe?
“Wanttomakeamemory?”
Wildetookonemorelookatthedoor,thoughtofSondraandthatlongredhairfannedacrosshischest.Thenheshookhishead.Nottonight.Hewouldheadbackdowntothelobbyandcallherfromthehousephone.Hedidn’twantherwaitingupforhim.
Thatwaswhenthedooropened.
“Howlonghaveyoubeenstandinghere?”Sondraasked.
“Minuteortwo.”
“Wanttotalkaboutit?”
“Probablyshouldn’t.”
“Talk?”
“I’mnotmuchofatalker.”
“ButI’masupergoodlistener,”Sondrasaid.
Henodded.“Yeah,that’strue.”
Shetookastepback.“Comeonin,Wilde.”
Andheobeyed.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
WhenWildewokeup,thefirstthinghethoughtabout—evenbeforeherealizedthathewasinastrangeyetfamiliarhotelroomratherthanhisEcocapsule—wasLaila.
Damn.
Sondrasatinachairwithherfeettuckedunder.Shelookedoutthewindow,herfacelitbythemorningsun.Forafewlongmoments,neitheroneofthemmoved.Shestaredoutthewindow.Hestaredattheprofileofherface.Hetriedtoreadherexpression—serenity?regret?contemplation?—andherealizedthatwhateverhededucedwouldprobablybewrong.Humanbeingswereneverthatsimpletoread.
“Goodmorning,Sondra.”
Sheturnedtohimandsmiled.“Goodmorning,Wilde.”Then:“Doyouhavetoleaverightaway?”
Again,despitethewarninghehadjustgivenhimselfonhumanbeings,hetriedtoreadher.Didshewanthimtoleave—orwasshegivinghimanoutifhewantedtotakeit?
“Ihavenoplans,”hesaid.“Butifyoudo—”
“Howaboutweordersomebreakfast?”
“Thatsoundsgreat.”
Sondrasmiledathim.“Ibetyouknowthebreakfastmenubyheart.”
Hedidn’treply.
“I’msorry.Ididn’tmean…”
Wildeshookitoff.Sheaskedhimwhathewantedtoeat.Hetoldher.Shesteppedintothesuite’slivingroomandpickedupthephone.Wildegotoutofbednaked.Hewaspaddingtowardthebathroomwhenhisphoneerupted.
Notbuzzedorrangorvibrated.Erupted.
Hequicklysnatcheditupandstoppedthealarm.
“Everythingokay?”
Helookedatthescreen.Theanswerwasno.
Heswipedleft,whichsomemightfindironicunderthecircumstances.Itwasn’tTinder—itwashissecuritysystem.Acarhadpulledintohishiddenroad.Nobigdeal.Thealarmdoesn’tsoundforthat.Itjusttriggerstheothermotiondetectors.Twoofthemhadgoneoff.Ashewatchedthescreen,athirdlitup.Thatmeantpeople,atleastthree,werewalkinginthewoodsinsearchofhishome.Heswipedleftagain.Amapcameup.Afourthalarmtriggered.Theyweretravelingfromthesouth,east,andwesttowardtheEcocapsule.
“Youhavetogo,”Sondrasaid.
Wildewantedtoexplain.“SomeoneistryingtofindwhereIlive.”
“Okay.”
“Imean,thisisn’tsomebullshitexcuse.”
“Iknow,”shesaid.
“Howlongareyoustayingintown?”
“I’mleavingtoday.”
“Oh.”
“‘Oh’or‘whew’?”Sheheldupherhand.“Sorry,thatwasuncalledfor.Iknowyouwon’tbelievethis,butthisisnewtome.”
“Ibelieveit,”hesaid.
“It’snotnewtoyouthough.”
“No,it’snot.”
“Youdidn’tsleepwell,”shesaid.“Youcalledoutalot.Yourolledaroundliketheblanketswerebindingyou.”
“I’msorryifIkeptyouawake.”
Therewasreallynothingmoretosay.Wildegotdressedquickly.Therewasnokissgoodbye.Therewasnotruegoodbye.Hepreferreditthatway.Sondrastayedinthesuite’sotherroomwhilehegotready,somaybeshedidtoo.
Therewasnotimetotravelonfoot,soWildegrabbedataxiparkedoutsidetheSheraton.Hedidn’tgivethedriveranaddressbecausehedidn’treallyhaveone.HehadhimdriveupMountainRoad.Wilderarelytraveledonthisstretchofhighway.Toomanybadmemories.Whenthedrivertookthecurve,thesamecurveDavid’scarhadtakensomanyyearsago,Wildefelthishandgriptheseat.Heeasedhisbreathing.Thesmallwhitecrosswasstillthere,somethingHesterprobablywouldhavefoundunnervingifnotironic.Wildehadnoideawhohadputitthereallthoseyearsago.He’dbeentemptedtoremoveit—ithadbeentheretoolong—butwhowashetointervene?
“Therearenohousesuphere,”thedrivertoldhim.
“Iknow.JustpulloverwhenItellyou.”
“Yougoingforahike?”
“Somethinglikethat,yeah.”
Halfamilelater,hegavethedriverthesignal.Hehandedthemanatwentyforaneight-dollarfareandgotoutnearthemountain’speak.Hissmallhiddenroad—theaccesspointforhisvisitors—wasclosertothemountain’sbase.Henormallyclimbedupthehilltowardhishome.Todayhe’dclimbdown,checkingthesecuritymaponhisphoneashedid.Fromwhathecouldmakeoutfromthemotiondetectors,hisvisitorswereapproachingthecapsuleslowlyandcarefullyandfromallsideswithalmostmilitaryprecision.
Disturbing.
Whyweretheycomingforhim?Andequallyifnotmoreimportant:Whowascomingforhim?
OnemightthinkitastrokeofluckthatWildehappenedtobeoutthenightofthisinvasion,butthatwasn’tthecase.Ifhe’dbeenhome,thealarmswouldhaverousedhim.HewouldhavetakenoffbeforetheygotwithinfivehundredyardsoftheEcocapsule.He’dlongagosetupescaperoutesandhidingplaces,justincaseanyoneevertriedtogettohim.
Hecouldbegoneinnotime.
Nooneknewthesewoodslikehedid.Inhere,inthisthicket,theywouldhavenochanceagainsthim.Itdidn’tmatterhowmanyofthemtherewere.
Butthequestionsremained:Whowerethey,andwhatdidtheywant?
Wildeeaseddownthemountainside,lettinggravitymakethejourneyeasier.Heveeredtohisrightbyaforkedtree,towardtheclosesttriggeredmotiondetector.Beinginthewoods,amongstanimalsandwildlife,themotiondetectorcouldbeaccidentallysetoffquiteeasily.Adeergoesby.Abear.Evensquirrelsorraccoonssometimes.ButWildehadasystem,onealarmdominoingtothenextbeforeanywarningswereissued,provingthemovementshadtobesomewhatcalculatedandthusmostlikelyhuman.Betweenthecarparkedonhisroad—dingone—andthefollow-uptriggers,heknewthatthiswasnofalsealarm.Itwasn’tonemanoreventwoorthree.Morelikelytherewerefiveormore.
Comingforhim.
Itwaseighta.m.Thewoodswerecool,thatearlycrispstillintheair.Wildemovedwithpantherlikequiet.Hedidn’treallyhaveaplanhere.Itwasmostlyreconnaissance.Keepyourdistance.Learnaboutyouradversary.Checkouttheirpositionsandnumbers.
Trytofigureoutwhatthehelltheywantwithhim.
Heslowedwhenhereachedtherockformationwithatriggermotiondetector.Hecheckedthedevice,justtoseeiftherewassomekindofmalfunctionthatmightexplainwhysomanyhadgoneoff.Thedetectorwasintact.Hepickedupthepacenow.
Andtheretheywere.
Twomentogetherworkingintandem.Smart.Onehecouldpickoff,takeoutbeforehecommunicatedwiththeothers.Buttwowouldbemuchmoredifficult.Theyweredressedhead-to-toeinblack.Theyhadtheirheadsonaswivel,onetakingtheleadandlookingforward,theotherpullinguptherear.Theystoodfarenoughapart,soagaintheycouldn’tbetakendownbyoneassailant.
Professionals.
Wildemovedinforacloserlook.Theybothworeearpieces.Probablycommunicatingwiththeothers.Theseguyswerecominginfromthenorth.Therewereteamscominginfromthesouth,east,andwesttoo.Assumingtwomenateam,thatmeantaminimumofeightopponents.
Wildewasgoodattracking,obviouslybetterthananyoftheseguys,butthatdidn’tmakehiminvisible.Overconfidenceleadstomistakes.Themenwerearmed.Theireyesconstantlysweptthelandscape,andrealistically,ifWildewasn’tcareful,therewasadecentchancehecouldbespotted.
Everyonceinawhile,thetallermancheckedsomethingonhissmartphonescreenandchangedtheirdirectionslightly.Whateverapptheywereusing,itwasclearlyleadingthemtotheEcocapsule.Wildehadnoideawhatthetechnologywas,butthenagainifsomeonewantedtofindhishomebadlyenough,thereweretrackingdevicesthatwouldeventuallyleadthemtoit.He’dalwaysknownthat.He’dpreparedforit.
Knowingthemen’sultimatedestinationmadeiteasier.Wildedidn’thavetofollowclosely.Heveeredofftowardoneofhissafeboxes.Hehadsixoftheminthewoods,allhiddeninspotsnoonewouldfind,allopenedbyusinghispalmprintratherthanacombinationlock.Thisonewasupinatree.Heclimbed,foundittapedunderthelargebranch,openedthebox.Wildetookoutthegun.Hewasabouttocloseitupwithouttakingoutthefalseidentitypapers,butthenhethoughtbetterofit.Supposehehadtorun?
Bettersafethansorry.
HeslidbackdownthetreeandmadehiswaytowardtheEcocapsule.Hemovedquicklynow,wantingtoarrivebeforethetentativelymovingteamhe’dbeenfollowinggotthere.
Andthenwhat?
He’dfigurethatoutwhenthetimecame.Hehurriedahead,movingwithease.
HelocatedthehillapproximatelytwohundredyardsfromwheretheEcocapsulesat.Heclimbedatreesothathewouldbehighenoughtolookdownontheclearing.He’dwantedtoputthecapsuleinadenserpartoftheforest,butthatblockedthesun,whichmadestoringsolarenergythatmuchmoredifficult.Still,itwouldpayoffnow.Oncehereachedthetopofthetree,he’dbeabletoseethemenapproachingfromasafespot.
Wildegrabbedabranch,pulledhimselfup,andlookeddown.
Damn.Theywerealreadythere.
Fourmen.Surroundingthecapsule.Armed.Twomore—thetwoWildehadbeenfollowing—cameintotheclearing.Sonowitwassixmen.
Theleaderapproachedthecapsulecautiously.
Wilderecognizedhim.
Wildescrolledthroughhisphone’scallhistoryandhitthereturn-callbutton.GavinChamberswasreachingfortheEcocapsule’sdoorwhenhemusthavefeltthevibrationinhispocket.Hetookouthisphone,lookedatit,glancedathissurroundings.Hehittheanswerbuttonandputthephonetohisear.
“Wilde?”
“Don’ttouchmyhouse.”
Gavintookaharderlookaroundnow,buttherewasnowayhe’dbeabletospotWildeupinthetree.“Areyouinsidethisthing?”
“No.”
“Ineedyoutoopenit.”
“Why?”
“Somethinghashappened.Somethingbig.”
“Yeah,Ifiguredthat.”
“How?”
“Areyoujoking?Youhaveatleastfourarmedteamscirclingmyplaceinthewoods.Youdon’thavetobeatraineddetectivetofigureout‘somethingbig’hashappened.Sowhatisit?”
“TheMaynards.”
“Whataboutthem?”
“Ineedtolookinsideyourhome.ThenIneedtotakeyoutothem.AreyounearbyorareyouwatchingmeonsomekindofcameraImissed?”Helookedupagain,shadinghiseyes.“Eitherway,I’mnotgoingtofindyou,amI?”
“No.”
“I’mtrespassingonyourturf.”
“Yethereyouare.”
“Hadtodoit,Wilde.Hadtoflushyououtonewayortheother.”
“Sonowwhat?”
“Icouldtakeanaxetoyourhouseandseewhat’sinside.”
“Notyourstyle,”Wildesaid.
“No,it’snot.Tellyouwhat.I’llsendmymenaway.”
“Soundslikeagoodstart.”
“ButthenI’llneedtoseeyou.”
Wildedidn’treply.GavinChambersbarkedoutsomeorders.Themencompliedwithoutcomplaint.Whentheyweregone,GavinChambersputthephonebacktohisear.“Comeoutnow.Weneedtotalk.”
“Why?What’swrong?”
“Anotherkidismissing.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Hesterstillhadthestomachflutterswhenshewokeup.
Thefluttershadstartedlastnightatelevenp.m.whenOrenhadwalkedhertoherdoor—hewouldn’tjustleaveheratthecurboreveninthatelevator,toomuchagentleman—andkissedher.Ordidshekisshim?Didn’tmatter.Itwasakiss.Arealkiss.Hewrappedonearmaroundherwaist.Okay,yes,thatwasnice.Butwiththeotherhand—hisbighand—withtheotherbig,wonderfulhand,hecuppedthebackofherheadandtiltedherfaceupand,inoneword…
Swoon.
Hestermelted.Rightthere.HesterCrimstein,attorney-at-law,knewthatshewastoooldtomeltorswoonorfeelthesamestomachfluttersshefeltwhenshewasthirteenyearsoldandMichaelGendler,thehandsomestboyinherclass,sneakedawaywithheratJackKolker’sbarmitzvahandtheymadeoutinthesmallroombehindtherabbi’soffice.Oren’skisswassomanythingsatonce.Itsurgedthroughher,ofcourse,makingherheadyanddizzyandtotallylostinthemoment,yetanotherpartofherwasoutsidethebody,eyeswideopen,watchinginamazementandthinking,Holyshit,I’mbeingwreckedwithakiss!
Howlonghadthekisslasted?Fiveseconds?Ten?Thirty?Afullminute?Notafullminute.Shedidn’tknow.Didherownhandswander?She’dreplayedthekiss—TheKiss,itdeservedtobecapitalized—ahundredtimes,andshestillcouldn’tbesure.Sherememberedherhandsonhisstrong,roundshoulders,howthatfeltrightandsafeandohhowshelovedthoseshoulders—andwhatthehellwaswrongwithheranyway?
SherememberedhowsoftTheKisshadstarted,howOrenstartedtopullawaygently,howtheycamebacktogether,howTheKissgrewhungrier,morepassionate,howitendedsotenderly.Hehadkepthishandonthebackofherhead.Helookedherintheeye.
“Goodnight,Hester.”
“Goodnight,Oren.”
“CanIaskyououtagain?”
Shebitbackseveralsnappyrejoindersandwentwith,“Yes.I’dreallylikethat.”
Orenwaiteduntilshewasinsidetheapartment.Hestergavehimasmileassheclosedthedoor.Then,alone,shebrokeintoalittlehappydance.Shecouldn’thelpherself.Shefeltbothflightyandafool.Shegotreadyforbedinadaze.Sleep,shewassure,wouldnotcome,butithad,quickly,theadrenalinerushleavingherspentandexhausted.Sheslept,infact,beautifully.
Now,thismorning,Hesterwasleftwiththeflutters.Justthat.Theflutters.Lastnightnowfeltsurreal,likeadream,andshewasn’tsurewhetherthisfeelingwassomethingshelongedfororsomethingshefeared.Didsheneedthisinherlife?Shewascontentalready,satisfiedinbothpersonallifeandcareer.Whyriskit?Itwasn’tjustaquestionofbeingtoooldforsuchimmatureemotions.Shewassetinherwaysnow.Shelikedbeingsetinherways.Didshereallywantsomethinglikethisupendingeverything?Didshewanttoriskhurtorembarrassmentoranyofthemillionsofthingsthatcouldandprobablywouldgowrong?
Lifewasgood,wasn’tit?
ShereachedforherphoneandsawamessagefromOren:
Toosoontotext?Idon’twanttolookdesperate.
Swoon.Swoonalloveragain.
Shetypedback:Stalker.
Shesawthethreedotssignalinghewaswritingherback.Thenthethreedotsvanished.Shewaited.Noreply.Shefeltabriefsurgeofpanic.
Iwaskidding!No,it’snottoosoon!
Noreply.
Oren?
Thiswasexactlywhatshemeant—whowantedtofeelthisway?Whowantedtheirheartintheirthroatandtobeworriedthatmaybeshedidthewrongthingorthatmaybethiswasjustagametohimandhey,itwasonlyonedateandonekiss(TheKiss)socalmtheFdownalready.
Herphonerang.ShehopedthatitwasOren,butthecallerIDdisplayedanothernumbersherecognized.Shepressedanswerandputthephonetoherear.
“Wilde?”
“Ineedyourhelp.”
***
WildesteppedintoviewbytheEcocapsule.Heheldhisphoneintheair.
GavinChambersfrownedathim.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“I’monalivevideocall,”Wildesaid.
“Withwho?”
“Whom,”afemalevoicecomingfromthephonesaid.“Withwhom.Prepositionalphrase,sweetstuff.”
WildecontinuedtowalktowardGavin.Gavinsquintedatthescreen.
“Hi,Gavin.MynameisHesterCrimstein.WemetonceatadinnerpartyatHenryKissinger’s.”
GavinChambersglancedupatWildeasiftosay,Really?
“Don’tmakethatface,bubbalah,”Hestersaid.“I’mrecordingallthis.Doyouunderstand?”
Gavinclosedhiseyesandletloosealongsigh.“Forreal?”
“No,forfake.IwantyoutoknowthatifanythinghappenstoWilde—”
“Nothingisgoingtohappentohim.”
“Cool,handsome,thenwe’llhavenoissue.”
“Thisisn’tnecessary.”
“Oh,I’msureit’snot,butwhenyouhaveadozenarmedmensneakuponmyclient’shome—ahomewhichyousubsequentlythreatenedtodestroy—labelmeparanoid,butashisattorney—andjusttomakeitclearfortherecord,Iamyourattorney,correct,Wilde?”
“Correct,”Wildesaid.
“Soashisattorney,Iwantthisontherecord.You,ColonelChambers,approachedmyclient’shomewitharmedmen—”
“Thisispublicland.”
“ColonelChambers,doyoureallywanttospendtimearguingdetailedlegalesewithme?”
Gavinsighed.“No,Idonot.”
“BecauseIcandothat.I’mnotinarush.Areyouinarush,Wilde?”
“Igotallday,”Wildesaid.
“Fine,sorry,”Gavinsaid,“nolegalese,let’smoveon.”
“NowwhatwasIsaying?”Hestercontinued.“Right,youapproachedmyclient’shomewitharmedmen.Youthreatenedtobreakintosaidhomeandevendestroyit.Don’trollyoureyes.Me,Iwouldhaveyouarrested,butmyclient,againstmyhigh-pricedadvice,isstillwillingtotalktoyou.HeseemstohavewhatIwouldconsiderbadlyplacedtrustinyou.Iwillhonorhiswantswhilealsomakingourpositiononthisclear:IfWildeisharmedinanyway—”
“Hewon’tbeharmed.”
“Shush,you,listen.Ifhe’sharmedorheldagainsthiswill,ifIcallhimbackandcannotreachhimoryoudoanythingotherthanwhatherequests,Iwillbecomeapermanentpartofyourlife,ColonelChambers.Likeshingles.Orpiles.Onlyworse.DoImakemyselfclear?”
“Crystal.”
“Wilde?”
“Thanks,Hester.Okaytodisconnect?”
“That’suptoyou,”shesaid.
“Yeah,thanks.”
Hehitabuttonandslippedthephoneintohispocket.
GavinChambersfrowned.“Youcalledyourmommy?”
“Wow,nowyou’vehurtmyfeelings.”
“WhatIwantedtotellyouwassupposedtobeincompleteconfidence.”
“Thencallmeonthephonenexttimeinsteadofsendingarmedmen.”
Gavingesturedtowardthecapsule.“Iwasalittlesurprisedwefoundyourplacesoeasily.Ifiguredyou’dsetupdecoys.YoueverreadabouttheGhostArmyinWorldWarTwo?”
Wildehad.“TheTwenty-ThirdHeadquartersSpecialTroops.”
“Whoa,”Chamberssaid.“Labelmeimpressed.”
TheTwenty-Third,akatheGhostArmy,wereaneliteforceofartistsandspecialeffectssoldierswhoworked“tacticaldeception.”They’dusestufflikeinflatabletanksandrubberairplanesandevencreateasoundtrackofwar,alltocreatethetwentieth-centuryversionofaTrojanhorse.
“Howdidyoufindit?”Wildeasked.
“Dronewithasensor,”GavinChamberssaid.HegesturedtowardtheEcocapsule.“Pleaseopenthedoor.”
“Nooneisinside.”
“Andopeningitwillprovethat.”
“Don’ttrustme?”
Exhaustionemanatedfromhim.“Canwejustcheckthisbox,please?”
“Whoareyoulookingfor?”
“Noone.”
“Youjustsaid—”
“ThatwasbeforeyoudecidedtoblabtosomeonewithaTVshow.”
“She’smyattorney.IfItellhernottotellanyone,shewon’t.”
“Youcan’tbethatna?ve.”GavinChamberslookedoffandshookhishead.Hewasweighingadecision,butitwasafaitaccompli.Therewasonlyonewaythiscouldgo.“It’saboutCrashMaynard.”
“Whathappenedtohim?”
“He’smissing.”
“Arunawayor—”
Gavintookouthisgun.“Justopenthegoddamndoor,Wilde.”
“Areyouserious?”
“DoIlookinthemoodtocontinuethis?”Hedidnot.Helookedlikeaworngarmentfrayingattheedges.“ItoldyouthatCrashismissing.Letmeeliminateyourhovel,sowecanfindhim.”
Wildewasn’tafraidofthegun,norwashetemptedtodrawhisown,buthealsosawnoreasontoantagonizethemananyfurther.Hegotwhatwashappeninghere:CrashMaynardhadvanished,andWildewasaslikelyasuspectasanybody.
TheEcocapsuledooropenedbythesamekindofremoteyouusetounlockyourcardoor.Wildereachedintohispocket,pulledouttheremote,andpressedthebuttonwithhisthumb.Gavintuckedthegunbackintotheholsterasthehatchdoorrose.Heleanedhisheadin,lookedaround,pulledhisheadbackout.
“Sorryaboutthegun.”
Wildesaidnothing.
“Let’sgo.”
“Where?”
“TheMaynardswanttoseeyou.Infact,theyinsistonit.”
“GoingtopullthegunagainifIrefuse?”
“Youreallygoingtoholdthatoverme?”Gavinstarteddownthepath.“IsaidIwassorry.”
NeithermanspokeduringtheshortridetoMaynardManor.Inthemorningsun,themansionglitteredatopaclearingofgrasssouniformlygreenitmighthavebeenspray-paintedthatcolor.Thepainstakinglymowedlawnlookedtobeanalmostperfectsquare,thehousebeingdeadcenter,withwhatWildeestimatedtobeaboutthreehundredyardsofgrassoneachsidebeforeyoureachthewoods.TherewasanOlympic-sizedpoolontheright,atenniscourtontheleft,andaregulationsoccerpitchwithfreshlylaid-outlimeintheback.
TheSUVcametoastopbyanornatecarriagehouse.Gavingotoutofthevehicle.Wildefollowed.
“Beforewegoanyfurther,Ineedyoutosignthis.”
GavinhandedWildeapieceofpaperonaclipboardwithapenattached.
“It’sastandardNDA—that’sanondisclosureagreement.”
“Yeah,”Wildesaid,handingitbacktohim,“IknowwhatanNDAis.”
“Ifyoudon’tsign,Ican’ttellyouanymoreaboutwhat’sgoingon.”
“Buh-byethen.”
“God,you’reapainintheass.Allright,forgettheNDA.Comeon.”
Gavinstartedwalkingtowardthewoodsintheback-leftcorneroftheestate.
“DidyoureallythinkI,what,Ikidnappedtheboy?”Wildeasked.
“No.”
“Orhidhiminmycapsule?”
“Notreally,butitwasapossibility.”
Gavinkeptwalking.Hestoppedinthesideyardmidwaybetweenthehouseandthewoods.“Thereiswherewelosehim.”
“Caretoelaborate?”
“Thismorning,Crashwasn’tinhisbedroom.WecheckedtheCCTVfootage.Securityhereisfairlyextensiveasyoumightimagine.CCTVcoverstheexteriorfromthehometorightaboutwherewearestanding.”Hetookouthismobilephone,swipedacross,turnedittowardWilde.“ThisisCrashwalkingpastwherewearenow,probablyheadinginthatdirection.”
Hepointedtothewoodsbehindhimandhittheplaybutton.Thecameramusthavehadanightfilteronit.Onthescreen,WildewatchedasCrashtraveledfromthehouse,acrosswheretheynowstood,seeminglyonhiswaytothewoods.Thetimestampinthelowerleft-handcornerofthevideoread2:14a.m.
“AnyoneelseshowupontheCCTVbeforeorafterhim?”Wildeasked.
“No.”
“SoyoufigureCrashranaway.”
“Probably.Allweknowforcertainisthathewalkedtowardthosetrees.”HeturnedtowardWilde.“Butsomeonewithastrongknowledgeofthewoodscouldhavebeenlyinginwait.”
“Ah,”Wildesaid.“That’swhereIcomein.”
“Toadegree.”
“Butyoureallydon’tthinkIhadanythingtodowithit.”
“LikeIsaid—Iwascheckingtheboxes.”
“SoI’mherebecauseIhappenedtoquestionCrashyesterday.”
“Hellofacoincidencethat,don’tyouthink?”
“AndNaomiPineisalsomissing,”Wildesaid.
“Hellofacoincidencethat,don’tyouthink?”
“Sothereisaconnection?”
“Twokidsfromthesamehighschoolclassdisappear,”Gavinsaid.“Ifthere’snotaconnection…”
“…it’sahellofacoincidence,don’tyouthink?”Wildefinishedforhim.“Whatelseyougot?”
“They’vebeencommunicating.”
“NaomiandCrash?”
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
“Idon’tknow.Thekidstaysaheadofourmonitoring—WhatsApp,Signal,whateverappstheyuse.They’reencrypted.Myjobisn’ttospyonthefamily.It’stoprotectthem.”
“Why?”
“Whywhat?”
“Whyareyouprotectingthem,Gavin?AndImeanyou,specifically.Youreaduponme,Ireaduponyou.Youdon’tdofieldworkanymore,andDashMaynardisjustatelevisionproducer.Soyou’renotheresimplytoprotecthimandhisfamily.You’reherebecauseofRustyEggers.”
Gavinsmiled.“Whatadeduction.ShouldIapplaud?”
“Onlyifyoufeelit’sappropriate.”
“Idon’t.Itdoesn’tmatterwhyI’mhere.Twoteenshavedisappeared.Youwanttofindone,Iwanttofindtheother.”
“Poolourresources?”
“Wehavethesamegoal.”
“Iassumeyoubroughtmeouthereforareason.”
“TheMaynardsinsisted,actually.Ifiguredwhileyou’rehere,I’dgetyourtake.”
Wildelookedtowardthewoodsandspottedapath.“Youthinkthat’swhereCrashwasheaded?”
“Fromtheangleofthewalkonthevideo,yes.Butmorethanthat,that’salsothespotwhereherecentlyencounteredNaomiPinetrespassing.”
Crashhadn’t“encountered”Naomi—he’dpranked,intimidated,andbulliedher.Oratleast,thatwashowMatthewdescribedit.Butnowwasnotthetimetogetintosemantics.Wildestartedtowardthepathinthewoodstogetabetterlook.
“Iassumeyoudon’thaveanyCCTVcoverageofwherewearenow,”Wildesaid.
“That’scorrect.Weonlyworryaboutpeopleneartheestate.Wearen’tinterestedinpeople,especiallyfamilymembers,whovoluntarilychoosetoleave.”
“So,”Wildesaid,“yourworkingtheoryisthatCrashmetNaomiouthereandthattheyarehidingsomewheretogether?”
“Seemsmostlikely.”
“Yetyoustillpanicked.”
“Wedidn’tpanic.”
“Youhadarmedmenswarmmyhouse.”
“Stopwiththedramatics.Thesearenotordinarytimes,Wilde.Thefamilyisunderenormousstressandpressure.Threatshavebeenmade—violentandawfulthreats.Youmayhaveseensomethingaboutitonthenews.”
Henodded.“TheMaynardshavetapesthatcoulddestroyRustyEggers.”
“It’snottrue,butpeoplebelieveanycrackpotconspiracytheyseeonline.”
Theyenteredthewoodsviathepath.Wildecheckedthedirtforfootprints.Therewereafairnumber,mostlyfresh.“Youandyourmenwentthroughherethismorning?”
“Ofcourse.”
Wildefrowned,butinasenseitdidn’tmatter.CrashMaynardhadcomeouthereonhisown.Therewasnooneelseonthetape.WasNaomiorsomeonewaitingforhim?Hardtosayviaphysicalevidence.TherewasasmallclearingtotheleftwiththerockwhereMatthewandNaomimetup.Wildeheadedovertoit.Hekneltdown,feltunderandaroundit,andfoundafewbutts,bothtobaccoandcannabis
“Ifthisplaceisn’tcoveredbyCCTV,howdidyouknowaboutCrash’s‘encounter’withNaomi?”
“Oneofmymenwaswalkingthegrounds.Heheardabunchofkidslaughing.”
“Andhedidn’tstepin?”
“He’ssecurity,notababysitter.”
AnoisefamiliartoWildecutthroughtheair.Helookedskyward,throughthebranchesreachinguptotheskyofdeepdarkblue.Thechoppingsoundfromthewhirringrotorsgrewlouder.Wildedidn’tsufferfromPTSD—atleast,notthekindthatcouldbeclinicallydiagnosed,buttherewasn’taguywhoservedovertherethatdidn’tcringeatthissound.
Hesteppedbackintotheclearingasthehelicopterhoveredabovethesideyard.Asitdescendedtowardtheground,WildesneakedaglanceatGavinChambers,hopingtogetareadonthesituation,butifthisarrivalwasknowntohim,hisexpressionwasn’tgivingthataway.Evenfromthisdistance,WildecouldfeelthewindfromtherotorsoftheBell427twin-enginecopter,maybethemostcommonlyusedforshortflightsfrom,say,NewYorkCityouttohere,asittoucheddown.Theengineturnedoff.Whoeverwasinsidewaiteduntiltherotorsstoppedspinningcompletely.Thenthepilotcameoutandopenedthedoor.
HesterCrimsteinsteppedoutofthecopter.ShespottedWildeandGavin,smiled,andspreadherarmswide.
“CanImakeanentrance,boys,orwhat?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Fiveminuteslater,theywereallensconcedintheMaynards’over-the-toplibraryturret.HestersatacrossfromDashandDelia.GavinChambersstoodbehindtheMaynards.TherewasanemptyburgundyleatherwingbackchairnexttoHester,purportedlyforWilde,buthechosetostandtoo.
“Canwegetyouabeverage?”DashMaynardasked.
HesterlookedatWilde,archinganeyebrowattheword“beverage,”asifunderstandablyannoyedbytheuseofthewordincasualconversation.
“We’regood,”Hestersaid.
“Weappreciateyouagreeingtojoinusonsuchshortnotice,”Dashcontinued.
“Yousentahelicopterandofferedtopaydoublemyregularrate,”Hestersaid.“How’sagirltorefuse?”
DeliaMaynardhadyettospeak.Therewasaslighttremorinherpaleface.Hereyesstaredout,unfocused.Forafewlongmoments,noonespoke.
“Hey,listen,Icanwaitallday—doublemyusualsuperexpensive-though-worth-itrate?Mama’sgonnabuyherselfanewpairofLouboutins,youknowwhatI’msaying?”
DashglancedatDelia.Wildeglancedoutthewindowbehindthem.Theviewwasmagnificent.ThemanorwassohighupthatyoucouldseetheskyscrapersofManhattanabovethetreeline.
“I’mjoking,”Hestersaid.
“Pardon?”
“Yes,youofferedtodoublemyfee.ButIdon’tworkthatway.I’llbillyouthesamehourlyrateaseveryotherclient—nomore,noless.AndIdon’tlikewastingtime,evenifI’montheclock.Idon’tneedmoneythatbadly.I’mrichalready.Notasrichasyou,Mr.Maynard—”
“CallmeDash.”
“Okay,Dash,cool.Sinceyouseemalittlehesitant,letmesetafewgroundrulestogetusofftheground,okay?”
“Yes,”hesaid,clearinghisthroat,“thatmightbehelpful.”
“Firstthing:Yousaidonthephonethatyouwishtoengagemyservices.”
“Yes.”
“SonowI’myourattorney.Wonderful,mazeltov.”SheglancedupoverDash’sshouldertoGavinChambers.“Pleaseleave.Thisisaprivatemeetingbetweenmyclientandmyself.”
“Ohno,”Dashsaid.“It’sokayifGavin—”
“It’snotokaywithme,”Hesterinterjected.“I’mnowofficiallyyourattorney.Whatyoudivulgetomegetslockedawayunderattorney-clientprivilege.Inshort,noonecancompelmetorevealwhatyou’reabouttosay.Mr.Chambersheredoesn’tgetthatsamelegalrecourse.Hecan,likeitornot,becompelledtorevealthecontentsofthisconversation.SoIwanthimout.”Hesterglancedtoherright.“Youtoo,Wilde.Skedaddle.”
Dashsaid,“ButwetrustGavin—”
“Dash?YoutoldmetocallyouDash,right?Dash,thisisprettysimple.I’msettingupgroundrules,likeItoldyou.RuleOne:Ifyouwanttohireme,you’regoingtohavetolistentome.Ifyoudon’twanttolistentome,well,mydriverisonhiswayouthere—I’llskipthathelicopterwiththatfarkaktenoiseonthewayback,thankyou—andshouldbearrivingsoon.I’llheadbackintothecityandchargeyouforthevisit,andwewillgoourseparateways.Thisisn’tademocracy.I’myourDearLeaderforLife.WeunderstandRuleOne?”
Dashlookedasthoughhemightargue,butDeliaputahandonhisleg.
“Weunderstand,”Deliasaid.
“Good.”
Gavinsaid,“Idon’tlikeit.”
“Inanotherlifetime,”Hestersaid,“I’llcare,really.I’llshedtears.Butfornow,shushanddepart.”
DashnoddedtoGavin.Gavinthrewuphishandsandstartedforthedoor.Wildefollowedbehindhim.
“Wait,”Deliasaid.
Bothmenstopped.
DelialookedatHester.“We’vegottenafullbriefingonWilde’sbackground.”
“Youdon’tsay.”
“He’sstillalicensedinvestigatorwithCRAWSecurities,”Deliasaid.“Youusedtoemployhimtodoworkforyou,correct?”
“AndifIdid?”
“Employhimagain,”Deliasaid.“Foroursituation.Thenanythinghewouldhearwouldfallintoattorney-clientworkproduct,right?”
“Hey,nicethinking.”HesterspunandlookedbackatWilde.“Wanttoworkforme?”
“Sure,”Wildesaid.
“Thensitdown.Don’tstandovermeandlurk,itgivesmevertigo.”
Afewmomentslater,GavinChamberswasoutoftheroom.Thefourofthemsatintheleatherchairs,DeliaandDashononesideoftheteakcoffeetable,HesterandWildeontheother.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Dashsaid.“IfyoucouldhireWildeasyourinvestigator,whycan’tyouhireGavin.”
“Because,”Hestersaid.
“Becausewhy?”
“BecauseIsaidso.YouflewmeouthereonahelicopterbecauseIassumeyoursituationisurgent.Let’sgettoit,shallwe?”
Wilderaisedhishand.“Notyet.”
Hesterturnedtohim.“What?”
“ColonelChamberswastryingtomonitoryourson’scommunications.”
“Ofcoursehewas,”Dashsaid.“Thatwaspartofhisjob.”
ButHesterhadalreadyputbothhandsonthearmsofthechair,andwithagrunt,sheliftedherselftoastandingposition.“Let’sgooutside.”
“Whatfor?”Dashasked.
“Forallweknow,yournewchiefofsecurityputlisteningdevicesinthisroom.”
ThatknockedbothDashandDeliabackforamoment.
“Youdon’tunderstand,”Dashsaid.“WetrustGavinimplicitly.”
“Youdon’tunderstand,”Hestercountered.“Idon’t.AndI’mnotsosureyourwifedoeseither.”Shestartedforthedoor.“Comeon,let’sgetsomefreshair.It’sniceoutside,it’lldousallsomegood.”
DashonceagainlookedatDelia.Shenoddedandtookhishand.Theyheadeddownaspiralstaircase,passingaconfusedGavinChambers,andheadedoutside.Theirtwinswerepracticingwithacoachonthesoccerpitch.
“Thegirlsdon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,”Dashsaid.“We’dliketokeepitthatway.”
Theywalkedtowardthemiddleoftheyard,nearlytakingthesamepaththeirsonhadonthatCCTVrecordinglastnight.Thedaywasgorgeous,almostmockinglyso.WildesawHesterspottheviewofManhattan,herhomenow,andshewatchedtheskyscrapersasthoughtheywereoldfriends.
Whentheywerefarenoughfromthehouse,Hestersaid,“SowhyamIhere?”
Dashlaunchedstraightintoit.“Thismorning,whenwewokeup,oursonCrashwasgone.Theearlysignspointedtohimvisitingafriendlateatnightor,atworst,runningoff.Mr.Wildehereknowsthesituation.”
Hestersaid,“Okay.”
Deliacuppedahandoverhereyestoblockthesun.ShelookedupatWilde.“Whydidyoucorneroursonattheschoolyesterday?”
“Whoa.”ItwasHester.“Don’tanswerthat.Let’sgetmeuptospeedbeforewestartdownanyofthoseroads,okay?”
“Theroadisasimpleone,”Deliasaid.“Becauseofourcurrentsituation—”
“Whatsituation?”
“Lastnight,SaulStrausswasaguestonyourshow,”Deliasaid.
“Right,so?”
“Hemadeaccusationsinvolvingus.”
“Iassumeyou’retalkingaboutyouguyspossessingincriminatingtapes?”
Delianodded.“PurportedlyonRustyEggers,yes.”
“Ithoughthewasfullofit,”Hestersaid.“Theyexist?”
“No,”Deliasaid,“theydonot.”
Nohesitation,Wildenoted.Didn’tmeanshewastellingthetruth,ofcourse.Buttherewaszeropause,zerowrongbodylanguage—justastraight-updenial.
“Goon,”Hestersaid.
“WhenwediscoveredCrashwasmissing,”Dashsaid,“ColonelChambersandhisteamimmediatelystartedasearch.Allearlysignspointedtothefactthatoursonranawayonhisown.ThereisCCTVofhimleavingthemanoralone,seeminglyvoluntarily.”DashturnedhisglareontoWilde.“Still—andIthinkthisisanaturalresponse—ColonelChambersmadesurethatthemanwhoyesterdayheldoursonagainsthiswillathisschoolwasn’tinvolved.Youknowthis,ofcourse,Ms.Crimstein—yousawitonFaceTime.WewanttoknowthereasonwhyMr.Wildeherefelttheneedtoconfrontoursoninhisownschool.Ithinkourconcernisunderstandable.”
Hesternodded.“Sothat’swhyyouhadChambersbringWildehere.”
“Yes.”
“Andyoufiguredbyhiringme,you’dgethimtotalk.”
Deliaspokeupnow.“No.Wehiredyoubecausethingshavechanged.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Wedon’tthinkCrashranawayonhisownanymore.”
“Whynot?”
“Because,”Deliasaid,“wejustreceivedaransomnote.”
***
Theransomnotehadcomeinviaanonymousemail.
DashhandedhisphonetoHester,whohunchedoversoherbodywouldblockthesunglareonthescreen.Wildereaditoverhershoulder:
Wehaveyourson.Ifyoudonotdoexactlywhatwesay,hewillbeexecuted.Wedon’twantthat,butwebelieveinfreedomandfreedomalwayscomesataprice.IfyoucontacttheFBIorlawenforcement,wewillknowaboutitandwewillimmediatelyexecuteCrash.Ifyouthinkyoucancontacttheauthoritieswithoutusknowing,youarewrong.Wewereabletokidnapyoursondespiteallyourexpensivesecurity.Wewillknow,andyoursonwillsuffergreatly.Ourrequestissimple.Webelievethatthetruthwillsetyoufree.Forthatreason,wewantyoutoturnoverthetapesyouhaveonRustyEggerstous.Allofthem,especiallytheoldest.Therewillbenonegotiatingonthis.Thestakesaretoohigh.PleasefollowtheseInstructionsexactly.OnthebottomofthisemailisalinktoananonymousdropboxwhichworksthroughwhatiscommonlyknownastheDarkWebviaseveralVPNs.Thelinkisnotactiveyet.Atexactly4PM,clickthelinkanduploadallvideosthatyouhaveonRustyEggerspertheprompts.Youwillseeaspecialfoldersetasideforthetrulydamagingtape.Weknowthetapeexists,sopleasedonotpretendotherwise.Thelinkwillbeuselessagainatexactly5PM.Ifwedon’tgetwhatwewant,yoursonwillfacetheconsequences.
Thatwasit.Onthebottomwasindeedahyperlinkwithlotsofjumblednumbers,letters,andsymbolsofallsorts.
Hesterreadthemessageseveralmoretimes.Wildewatchedherandwaited.EventuallyHesterhandedthephonebacktoDash.Bothoftheirhandswereshaking.
“Youwantmyadvice?”Hesterasked.
“Ofcourse.”
“ContacttheFBI.”
“No,”Deliasaid.
“Youreadthemessage,”Dashadded.“Nolawenforcement.”
“Igetthat,butinmyview,contactingtheprofessionalsgivesyouyourbestchance.Onlythefourofushaveseenthisemail,amIcorrect?”
Theybothnodded.
“SoWildeleavesnow.WeknowpeopleattheFBI.Goodpeoplewhowillkeepitquiet.Wildetellsoneofthosepeoplewhat’swhat—”
“No,”Dashsaid.“Noway.”
“Delia?”Hestersaid.
“Iagreewithmyhusband.Fornow,wedothisonourown.”
Theywerenotgoingtochangetheirminds,notyetanyway,soWildeshiftedgears.“Accordingtothetimestamp,theemailwassentalittlemorethananhourago.Whattimedidyoufirstseeit?”
Dashmadeaface.“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”
Deliareplied,“Prettymuchrightaway.”
“That’swhenyoucalledme?”Hesterasked.
“Yes.”
HestersawwhereWildewasgoingwiththis.“Andmaywemakeanobservation?”sheasked.
“Ofcourse.”
“Youdidn’ttellyourchiefofsecurityaboutit.”
Dashletlooseasigh.“Iwantedto.”
“Yes,butyourwifedidn’t.”HesterfacedDelia.“BecauseyouseewhatIsee.”
“AndwhatdobothofyouladiesseethatIcan’t?”Dashaskedwithahintofirritation.
“GavinChambersworksforRustyEggers.Hisloyaltyistohim,notyou.Ididn’tsendhimoutoftheroomjustbecausehecouldbelegallycompelledtotalk.Iwantedhimoutbecauseyouaren’thisfirstpriority.ProtectingRustyEggersis.Doyouunderstand?”
“Ido,”Dashsaid,“butevenifIagreewiththat,ourinterestsherearethesame.”
Hestertiltedherhead.“Areyousureaboutthat?Imean,let’ssayhypotheticallythatthechoiceisyoursondiesorallyourtapesarereleasedtothepublic.WhichsidedoyouthinkRustyEggersisgoingtotake?”
Silence.
“AndIwantyoutoconsidersomethingelse,”Hesterwenton.“Ifthisreallyisakidnapping,whowouldbeyourmostlikelysuspect?”
“Radicals,”Dashsaid.
“Well,that’sprettyvague,butlet’sgowiththat.Let’ssayitwasradicals.Sotheseradicalsfiguredawaytogetyoursontogooutonhisownintothewoodsandthen,what,theynabbedhimonyourownpropertyanddraggedhimoffat,Idon’tknow,gunpointorwhatever?”Hesterrubbedherchin.“Doesthatseemlikely?”
“Sowhatareyousaying?”Deliaasked.
“Nothingyet.I’mspitballing.Honestly.That’sall.Itcouldbe,forexample,thatyoursonconcoctedallofthis.”
Delialookedskeptical.“Idon’tthinkso.”
“MaybeCrashjustranaway.Maybehe’sfineandsafeandhiding.Maybehesentthisemail.”
“Whywouldhedothat?”
“Idon’tknow.Spitballing,remember?Butthat’sapossibility,right?AnotherpossibilityisthatNaomiPineisinvolved.Weknowsheranawayalready.Didshegivehimtheidea?Aretheytogether?WeknowthatCrashandNaomiwereclassmates.Somaybethetwoofthemareinthistogether.Idon’tknow,butthat’sanotherpossibility.Areyouwithmesofar?”
Dashfrowned,butDeliasaid,“Ithinkso.”
“Sonowlet’ssupposethekidnappingisontheup-and-up.Idon’tmeantosoundcoldandanalytical,butfornow,let’strytokeepemotionoutofourthinking,okay?Let’ssaysomeonefoundawaytolureyoursonoutintothewoodsandgrabhim.Onepossibilityisthat,yes,it’sjustasitappears.Many,uh,radicalswantRustyEggerstogodown.Soateamofexperts—CIAormilitarytrained—carriedoutthisoperation.Doubtfulbutokay,maybe.WhichleadsmetotheonelastpossibilityIcan’tgetoutofmyhead.”
Deliasaid,“We’relistening.”
“GavinChambersisbehindthis,”Hestersaid.“Heisthecompleteinsider.HeknowstheCCTVsetup.Heknowseverything.Hetoldyoursontocomemeethimoutinthewoods.Andhetookhim.”
Dashmadeascoffingnoise.“That’sridiculous.”
“Motive?”Deliaasked,ignoringherhusband’sreaction.
“MaybeRustytoldhimtodoit.MaybeRustywantstoflushoutanysecretsyoumighthave.”Hesterthoughtthatmaybeshescoredonthatone—withDeliaatleast.Shetookastepcloser.“Listen,Delia,youfeltsomething,didn’tyou?That’swhyyoudidn’ttellGavinChambers.Somethingabouthimmadeyouhesitate.”
“Iwouldn’tgothatfar,”Deliasaid.
“Then—”
“Ijust…heworksforRustyEggers.Likeyousaid.Iactedoutofanabundanceofcaution,notbecauseIreallysuspecthe’dtakeourchild.”
HesterturnedtoWildeandcaughtthelookonhisface.“Youhavesomethingtoadd?”
“Afewthingsoddintheransomemail,”Wildesaid.
“Goon.”
“First,whatdotheymeanby‘especiallytheoldest’tape?”
“I’mnotsure,”Dashsaid,“butIassumetheymeanouttakesfromseasonone.”
Wildewaitedabeat.Givethemapoolofsilence.Peopleoftendovein.DashandDeliadidnot.
Afterafewmoresecondspassed,Hestersaid,“Whatelse,Wilde?”
“Ifthekidnappersjustwantthetruthoutthere,whynotdemandthatyoureleasethetapestothemediaorpostthemonapublicforum?Whywouldthekidnappersaskyoutosendthemtotheirprivatedropfirst?”
“I’mnotfollowing,”Dashsaid.
“Itcouldbenothing,”Wildesaid.“Oritcouldbethatthekidnapperswanttocontroltheinformationforthemselves,notreleaseit.”
Thefourofthemstoodthereforafewlongmoments.Alawnmowershatteredthesilence.Thenanother.
“Butthere’snothingonthetapes,”Dashsaid.“That’sthekeything.Wedon’thaveanydirt.”
Delianodded.“Atworst,whatwehaveisslightlyembarrassingtoRusty.That’sall.”
Wildelistenedtothembothandreachedasimpleconclusion.
Theywerelying.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Theyhadalmostsixhoursuntilthelinkwasactive.
Wildeknewafewbasicrulesaboutnegotiatingwithkidnappers.RuleOne:Don’teveragreetothefirstoffer.Alifemaybeatstake,buteverynegotiationisaboutpowerandcontrol.Thekidnapperhadmostofit,butyou,thevictim’sfamily,aretheonlybuyerinthemarketfortheparticular“product”theyareselling.Soyouhavesomepowertoo.Openadialogue.Alltheotherrules—keepemotionoutofit,startlow,bepatient,demandproofoflife—flowfromthisbasicpremise.
Therewasonlyoneproblem.
Wildehadnowaytoreachthekidnappers.
Therewerenoemails,nomobilenumbers,nothing.Wildetriedhittingreplytotheransomemail,butthemessagebouncedback.
Theclockwasticking,sotheydividedupthechores.Dashwouldpreparethevideosincasetheydecidedtouploadsomeorallofthem.DeliawouldcontactCrash’sclosestfriendstoseewhetheranyofthemsawCrashrecentlyorknewwherehemightbe.
“Keepitlow-key,”HestersuggestedtoDelia.“You’reanervousmomnotsurewhereyourkidspentthenight,that’sall.”
WildewouldcontinuesearchingforNaomibecausetheearlytheoryremainedthebestone:TherewasaconnectionbetweenNaomi’sdisappearanceandCrash’s.Inshort,ifyoufindNaomiPine,youmostlikelyfindCrashMaynard.
TherewasyetanothermatterWildehadtohandle.HespottedGavinChambersstandingbythetenniscourtsmokingacigarette.
“I’msurprisedyousmoke,”Wildesaid.
“Thebadguyalwayssmokes.”Chambersthrewthebuttonthegroundandstompeditwithhisheel.“Andhelitters.”Hesquintedupatthesun.“Yourideatomovethemeetingoutside?”
Wildesawnoreasontoreply.
“Thelibraryisn’tbugged.Youcanhaveaguysweeptheplace.”
“Okay.”
“Soyouofficiallythrowingmeout?”
“No,”Wildesaid.
“Thenyouwanttofillmeinonwhat’sgoingon?”
“AsmuchasIcan.”
“Hey,Wilde?”
Wildelookedupathim.
“Don’tinsultmewithyourbullshit,okay?IknowHesterisn’tjustworriedaboutprivilege.I’mviewedasRustyEggers’sman.”
“Hmm.Sureyouweren’tlisteningin?”
Gavinlikedthatone.“EvenCaptainObviouscouldhavefiguredthatoneout.Rustywastheonewhobroughtmein,sosomeonefeelsthat’swheremyloyaltywillbe.”
“Isn’tit?”
“Woulditdomeanygoodtosayno?”
“Probablynot.”
“Eitherway,Ijustwanttofindthekid.Sowhat’stheplan?”
“Mostoftheguardsherewereemployedbeforeyoucameonboard.”
“Right.Ibroughtinthreemenwithme,includingBryce.”
“Bryce?”
“Theblondguyyoukeeptanglingwith.”
“Okay.SoBryceandtheothertwoareout.”
“LeavingyouwithMaynard’suntrainedrent-a-cops?”
“I’llbringinafewofmyownpeople,”Wildesaid.
“Ah,Isee.”GavinChamberssmiled.“Fromyouroldagency?”
HehadalreadycalledRola,whowasmorethangame.Shewas,infact,onherwaywithacrewinhand.“Yes.”
“Youguyseverhandleakidnapping?”Gavinasked.“Because—nooffense—you’llscrewitup.”
“Funny.”
“What?”
“BeforeyouseemedprettycertainCrashwasarunaway,notakidnapping.”
“Yeah,thatwasbeforetheMaynardscalledHesterCrimsteinandtossedmeout.AndthatwasbeforeIwalkedintothatlibraryandsawtheirfaces.Theyweretryingtoholdittogether—that’swhatDashandDeliado—buttheywereclearlycomingundone.”Chambersreachedintohisjacketpocketandpulledoutapairofsunglasses.“Bytheway,didyoutellthem?”
Wildewaited.WhenChambersdidn’tsayanythingmore,Wildesaid,“Okay,I’llbite.Tellthemwhat?”
“ThatyoumetwithSaulStraussattheSheratonbar.”
Wildeshouldn’thavebeencaughtoffguard,buthewas.Hewasalsomorethanalittleupsetwithhimselfthathehadn’tspottedtheirtail.Hadhisheart-to-heartwithLailareallythrownhimoffthatmuch?“Impressive.”
“Notreally.”
“Question:Ifyourmenwerefollowingme,thenyouknewIwasn’tatmycapsulethismorning.YoualsoknewIdidn’ttaketheboy.”
“That’saquestion?”
“Whythebigshowofforceinthewoods,ifyouknewIwasn’tthere?”
“Wedidn’tknow.”
“Youjustsaidyouwerefollowing—”
“Notyou,Wilde.Weweren’tfollowingyou.”
Strauss.TheywerefollowingStrauss.
“SaulStraussisaloon—andathreat,”Gavinsaid.“Youcanseethat.”
“Ican,”Wildesaid.
“Sowhatdidhewantwithyou?”
Wildeconsideredhowtoanswerthis.
“I’mnotgoingaway,”GavinChamberssaid.“Wecaneitherworktogetherlikewesaidbefore—IknowmoreaboutCrash,youknowmoreaboutNaomi—orIcanjustbulldozemywayintorepresentingRusty’sinterestwithoutyourcooperation.”
Wildewasn’tcertainoftherightmovehere,buttheoldproverbaboutkeepingyourfriendscloseandyourenemiescloserechoedinhishead.
“StraussknewNaomiwasmissing,”Wildesaid.
“How?”
“Idon’tknow.ButheknewtherewasaconnectionbetweenNaomiandCrash.”
“WhythehellwouldSaulStrausscareaboutNaomiPine?”Chambersasked.
SomethingelsesurfacedinWilde’shead,oneofthefirstthingsSaulStrausshadsaidtohim:“Ihearyouhadarun-inwiththeMaynardkidtoday.”
SaulStrausshadknownthatWildehadbeenattheschool.
Howhadheknownthat?
Therewerewitnessesintheparkinglot,ofcourse,buttheonlyotherpersonwhomightknowmorethanthat,theonlyotherpersonwhocouldreallysaywhathadgoneoninthatartroom,wasAvaO’Brien.
Butno.HowwouldAvabeinvolvedinthis?
Shecouldn’tbe.Shewasjustapart-timeartteacher.
Wildesaid,“Youhavearelationshipwithhim,right?”
“SaulStrauss?Weservedtogether.IsawhimyesterdaywhenheprotestedbytheMaynards’office.”
“Somaybethefirststepistofindhim,”Wildesaid.
“Youdon’tthinkIthoughtofthatalready?”
“So—”
“RememberhowhewalkedoutoftheSheratonhotel?”
Wildenodded.“Hewalkedtowardthebackexit.”
“Maybe,”Gavinsaid.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“MymensawStraussgoin.Theyneversawhimgoout.Welosthim.”
***
TheMaynardshadgivenWildeaLexusGStouse.Asheslippedbehindthedriver’sseat,hecalledAvaO’Brien.Thecallwentintohervoicemail.Nooneheknewevercheckedvoicemail,sohesentAvaaquicktext:
NeedtotalkASAP.
Noimmediatereply,nodancingdots.Hewasn’tsurewhathewouldaskheranyway.IfAvaO’BrienwassomehowalignedwithSaulStrauss…no,thatmadenosense
SpeakingofStrauss.
AsWildepulledintoBernardPine’sdriveway,hetookoutthebusinesscardSaulStrausshadgivenhimanddialedthenumber.Itwentstraighttovoicemail.
“It’sWilde.YoutoldmetocallifIhadanyinformation.Ido.You’llwanttohearit.”
Hedidn’tknowwhetherthatwasstrictlytrue,buthefiguredthatthatmessagemightgetStrauss’sattention.WildethoughtaboutAva.HethoughtaboutStrauss.HethoughtaboutGavinandCrashandyes,ofcourse,Naomi.
Hewasmissingsomething.
BernardPine,Naomi’sfather,openedhisfrontdoorbeforeWildecouldringthebell.
“DoyouknowamannamedSaulStrauss?”Wildeasked.
“Who?”
“SaulStrauss.He’sonTVsometimes.MaybeNaomihasmentionedhim.”
Pineshookhishead.“Neverheardofhim.Haveyoufoundanythingnew?”
“Haveyou?”
“No.I’mgoingtothepoliceagain.ButIdon’tthinkthey’lllisten.”
“DoyouknowifNaomi’spassportisstillhere?”
“Icantakealook,”Pinesaid.“Comeonin.”HesteppedbackandletWildeinside.Thefoyersmelledstale.Wildespottedthehalf-fullglassandhalf-fullbottleofbourbononthecoffeetable.Bernardspottedhimspottingit.
“Takingapersonalday,”Bernardsaid.
Wildesawnoreasontoreply.
“Whydoyouneedherpassport?”
“AnychanceNaomiiswithhermother?”
Somethingskitteredacrosshisface.“Whydoyouaskthat?”
“Wecalledher.”
“YoucalledPia?”
NoreasontoclarifythatthecallwasmadebyHester’soffice.“Lasttimewecalled,yourex-wifestraight-uptoldusthatNaomiwasn’twithher.Thistimeshewouldn’treply.Wealsohaveareportyourexisoverseas.”
“Whichiswhyyouaskedmeaboutherpassport.”PineledWildetoahomeofficeinthebackofthehouse.Standardstuff—desk,computer,printer,filecabinet.Wildespottedanelectricbillandsomethingfromthecablecompanyontheright.Thecheckbookwasout.Thescreensaverwasagenericoceanshot,probablyoneofthecomputerdefaultscreens.ThepaperweightwasaLucite-blockawardwithBernard’snameonit,somekindof“salesmanofthemonth”typething.Therewasaclassicphotographofagolffoursomeatapro-amouting,Bernardbeamingonthefarrightasheheldhisdriver.
Therewerenophotographsofhisdaughter.
BernardPinerummagedthroughthedrawer,duckinghisheadforabetterlook.“Here.”
Hepulledoutthepassport.Wildeheldouthishand.BernardhesitatedandhandedNaomi’spassportover.Therewasonlyoneforeignstamp—HeathrowAirportinLondonthreeyearsago.
“Naomiisnotwithmyex,”Pinesaid.
Therewasnodoubtinhistone.
“CanIshowyousomething?”
Wildenodded.
“Idon’twantyoutothinkI’mweirdoranything.”BernardPineturnedaroundtothefilecabinet.Hefumbledforakey,unlockedit,openedthebottomdrawer.Hereachedintothebackandpulledoutamagazineinprotectivewrap.ThemagazinewascalledSportsGlobe.Thepublicationdatewasfromtwodecadesago.Onthecoverwasaswimsuitmodel.
TherewasayellowPost-itmarkingapage.Pinecarefullyturnedtoit.
“Pia,”hesaid,withalongingthatmadeevenWildepullup.“Gorgeous,right?”
Wildelookeddownatthemodelintheflossbikini.
“Thiswastakenayearafterwemet.Piamostlymodeledlingerieandbikinis.ShetriedoutforSportsIllustrated’sswimsuitissue.Yourememberhowbigthatusedtobe?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“SoPiagoesonanauditionorwhatevertheycallitandyouknowwhatSportsIllustratedtellsher?”
HestoppedandwaitedforWildetoanswer.Tokeepthingsmoving,Wildesaid,“No.”
“Theysayshe’stoocurvy.That’sthewordtheyused.Curvy.Theythoughther…”—hecuppedhishandsinfrontofhischest—“hadtobefake.Canyoubelievethat?Theysaidtheyweresogreat,theyhadtobeimplants.”Hegesturedtowardthephotograph.“Butthosearereal.Amazing,right?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“Isoundlikeapig,don’tI?”
Wildechosetheliethatwouldkeephimtalking.“Notreally.”
“PiaandImetataclubintheEastVillage.Icouldn’tbelievemyluck.Imean,everyguywantedher.Butwejusthititoff.Shewassobeautiful.Icouldn’tstopstaringather.Wefellprettyhard.IwasworkingatSmithBarneybackthen.Makingprettysweetdollars.Piawasmodelingjustenough.I’mnotsayingitwasperfect.Beautifulwomen,womenwholooklikethis,theyalwayshavealittlecrazy.Itcomeswiththepackage,Iguess.ButbackthenIfoundthatsoexciting,youknow,andshewasjustsosuperhot.Wewereinlove,wehadmoney,wehadthecity,wehadnoresponsibilities…”
Bernardclosedthemagazinewithcare,asthoughitwereafragilereligioustext,andslippeditbackintotheprotectiveplastic.Heturnedbacktothefilecabinet,placeditintheback,lockedthedrawer.
“WeweretogetheraboutayearwhenPiatoldmethatshecouldn’thavechildren.Thiswillsoundweird,Iguess,butwenevertalkedaboutitbefore.Idon’tknow,Iguesssheworriedaboutmyreaction.But—andthismightsurpriseyou—Iwasthrilled.Wewerehavingablast.Ididn’twantababymessingitup,and,manthiswillsoundawful,Ilovedherbodsomuch.Ihadfriendswithhotwives.NothotlikePia.Buthot.Andafterchildbirth,well,youknowwhatI’msaying?”
Wildesaid,“Uh-huh.”
“I’mjustbeinghonest.”
Wildesaid,“Uh-huh”again.
“Sowegotmarried.Bigmistake.Piaandme,weweregoodbeforewemadeitofficial.Butthenyoustarthangingaroundothermarriedcouplesandthey’reallhavingbabies.Pia,well,whatIthoughtwasherbeingeccentricandmaybealittlemoody?Nowthat’smorelikedepressionorbipolarorsomethinglikethat.Shestartedstayinginbedallday.Shedidn’ttakeanymorejobs.Sheevenputonafewpounds.”
Wildewantedtofeignagaspandsay“howawful,”buthestayedsilent.
“Sonow,ofcourse,Piawantsababy.Idon’tknowifit’sthebestthing,butIloveher.Iwantherhappy.Andwewouldn’tbethefirstpeopletothinkababycouldsaveourmarriage,right?Sowestarttalkingaboutsurrogatesandallthat,butintheend,IfindthisadoptionagencyinMaine.Youpayalittlemore,buttheymakethingssmoother.Theagencytolduswewouldhaveahealthybabyinsixmonths.Pia,well,itworked.Sheheardthatnews,shestartedtakingcareofherselfagain.Wewereback,except,youknow,shebecameobsessedwiththearrival.Suddenlyshedidn’twanttoliveinthecityanymore.Thecitywasdirty,shesaid.It’snoplacetoraiseachild.Soshefoundthisplace”—Bernardspreadhishands—“intherealestatesectionoftheTimes.Youknow.Likeunusualhomes.SoweboughtitandmovedoutheretwodaysbeforeNaomicamehometous.Itwasallgoingtobegreat.”
BernardPinestopped.
“Sowhathappened?”Wildeasked.
“Ireadsomewherethatevenadoptivemotherscansufferfrompostpartumdepressionorsomethingsimilar.Idon’tknowifthat’swhatitwas,butPiakindalostherself.Itwasawful.Shecouldn’tconnecttoherdaughterinanyway.Noteveninlikeacellularway.ItwaslikeourbabywasanewkidneyPia’sbodywasrejecting.”
Interestingwaytoputit,Wildethought.“Sowhatdidyoudo?”
“Ihirednannies.Piakeptfiringthem.Itriedtogethertoseeashrink,butsheflat-outrefused.AndIstillhadajob.Thecommutefromoutheretothecity,nomatterhowyousliceit,isatleastanhoureachway.”Heclosedhiseyeshard,thenopenedthem.“Oneday,IcamehomeandtherewasabruiseonNaomi’sarm.Shefell,Piasaid.Anotherday,therewasacutoverhereye.Thegirlisclumsy,Piasaid.”
Bernardmadeafistandputitnearhismouth.“Thisisveryhardtotalkabout.”
“Doyouwantaglassofwaterorsomething?”
“No,IwanttogetthroughthisbeforeIchickenout.I’venevertoldthisstory.Nottoanyone.Ishouldhavedonemore,Iguess.IshouldhaveinsistedPiagethelpor…”
Hestoppedagain,exhausted,andforamoment,Wildefearedthathewouldn’tgoon.
“We’vecomethisfar,”Wildesaid.“Tellmetherest.”
“IstartedtogetscaredforNaomi’shealth.Sooneday,Ididn’tgotowork.IjustpretendedlikeIwasheadingtothebus,butIhungintown.Ican’tsayexactlywhy.Somethingfeltextra-offthatmorning.OrmaybeIhadapremonition,Idon’tknow.IcamehomeanhourafterIleft.Totallyunexpected.Icouldhearthescreamingfromthedriveway.Bothofthem.Screaming.Iraninside.Theywereupstairs.Piawasgivingherabath.Thewater.Itwassohot,Icouldseethesteamcomingupoffthetop.”
Hesqueezedhiseyesshutnow.
“Thatwasit.Thestrawthatbrokethecamel’sback.IforcedPiatogethelp,though‘help’isarelativeterm.Wegotdivorced—quietly.Noreasontolettheworldknowwhathappened,right?Piagaveupallparentalrights.Buyingmysilencemaybe.Ormaybeshejustknewthatshe’dnevercare.Thatwasfifteenyearsago.Naomihasn’tseenhermothersince.”
Wildetriedtowadepastwhathe’djustheard,triedtogetpastthishorribletaleandkeepmovingaheadwithhisinvestigation.Then:“Areyousure?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“CouldNaomiandyourexhavestartedseeingeachotherbehindyourback?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Piastillbattleswithseverementalhealthissues,butshe’smanagedtolassoinarichnewhusband.Myguess?ShestoppedthinkingaboutNaomilongago.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
HestercalledAaronGerios,aformerFBISpecialAgentwho’dworkedhostagesituationsandkidnappings.“Ihaveahypotheticalsituationforyou.”
“Ahypothetical,”Geriosrepeated.
“Yes,”Hestersaid.“Youknowwhattheword‘hypothetical’means,don’tyou,Aaron?”
“Whenyoucall,itmeansthesituationisreal,nothypothetical,butyoucan’ttellmewhoitis.”
“I’llpretendyousaidthatinahypotheticalway.”
Hesterlaidoutthekidnapping-ransomsituation.ThesuggestionsAaronmadewereprettyclosetowhatWildehadalreadysetup.Inshort,theyweredoingeverythingright,consideringthecircumstances.Geriosalsoquestionedthelikelihoodthatthiswasalegitimatekidnapping.
“Itsoundsmorelikethiskidisprankinghisparents.”
“Couldbe.”
“Orsomehotgirlseducedhimintodoingthis.”
“Amanthinkingwithhisdickfirst,”Hestersaid.“Ididn’tknowsuchathingexisted.”
“You’vealwaysbeenana?vewaif,Hester.”
“Yes.Yes,true.Thanks,Aaron.”
“Noworries.ButmayIofferyouonelastpieceofrepetitiveadvice?”
“Sure.”
“ConvinceyourhypotheticalparentstocontacttheveryrealFBI.Evenifit’sabignothing,thesesituationstendtogosidewayswhenwearen’tinvolved.”
Aaronhungup.
HesterwasstillwalkingthegroundsofMaynardManor.Therewaslittledoubtthattheestatewasgrandintheold-schoolwayinwhichitwasintendedtobe,butsomeofthemoderntoucheswerejarring.Rightnow,Hesterwaswalkingpasta“sculpturegarden”withsomewhattackybronzelikenessesoftheMaynardfamilyfromseveralyearsago.Thetwingirlswhowerenowfourteen—Hestercouldn’tremembertheirnames,somethingwithK’slikeKatieorKaren—lookedtobeaboutsevenoreightinthebronze.Oneflewabronzekitewhiletheotherkickedabronzeball.BronzeCrashwasprobablyaroundtwelveorthirteenandcarriedalacrossestickonhisshoulderlikeHuckFinnwithafishingpole.BronzeDeliaandBronzeDashwatchedtheirbronzechildrenandlaughed.TheentireBronzeMaynardfamilywerelaughing,theirfacesfrozeninthatlaugh,foreverandever,andthatwaskindofcreepy.
Hester’sphonebuzzed.ThecallerIDreadOREN.Despiteeverything,hercheeksstillflushedjustseeinghisname.
“Articulate,”Hestersaid.
“Whydoyouanswerthephonethatway?”
“Longstory.”
“CanIhearitsometimeintheverynearfuture?”
Shesmiled.“Hownear?”
“I’monbackupdutytonight,soIhavetostayinthearea.What’syourschedulelooklike?”
“I’mintown.”
“VisitingMatthewandLaila?”
“Somethingelse,”Hestersaid.“Business.”
“Oh.Areyoufreefordinnerthen?Itwon’tquitebelastnight,butI’mpowerfulenoughtogetusatableatTony’sPizzaandSub.I’llevenpay.”
“Thankyouforthat,bytheway.”
“Forwhat?”
“Forlettingmepaylastnight.Forthankingmeandnotplayingthemachocardandinsisting.”
“Iwastryingtobeamodern,sensitiveman.HowdidIdo?”
“Verywell.”
“Ineverunderstoodthatreally.”
“What?”
“Thiswillsoundtoopoliticallycorrect.”
“Goon.”
“Let’sfaceit.YoumakealotmoremoneythanIdo.I’mnotbeingallevolvedhere.Justtheopposite.ButInevergettheguyswhogetallbentoutofshapewhenthewomanmakesmoremoney.ThewayI’vealwayslookedatit,ifI’mluckyenoughtobewithahighlysuccessfulwoman,thatmakesmelookbetter.Themoresuccessfulmygirlis,themoreIlookgood.Makesense?”
Hesaid“mygirl.”Swoon.
“So,”Hestersaid,“yourbeingsoevolvedisreallybeingself-involved?”
“Exactly.”
Hesterrealizedagainthatshewassmilinginawayshenormallyneversmiled.“Ilikeit.”
“Thatsaid,Igottonight’scheck.Whichwillbelessthanthetiponlastnight’sdinner.Sevenish?Unlessyou’reheadingbackintothecitytonight.”
Hesterthoughtaboutit.Shedidn’tknowwhatthestatusofthiswouldbe,buteitherway,shewouldneedtostickaround—andshewouldprobablyneedtoeat.Theymadetheplanstentativeandthentheyhungup.
Hesterwanderedbacktowardthehouse.ThegroundswereimmenseandheldnoappealtoHester.Theconstanttranquillitygrewunnerving.
HesterheadedinsideandfoundDeliaonthephoneinthatlibrarythatwasalittletooDisneyesque.DeliaspottedHesterandwavedherin.Sheputafingertoherlipstosignalsilenceandhitthebuttonforthespeakerphone,soHestercouldlistentoo.
Deliasaid,“Thanks,Sutton,forgettingbacktome.”
“Iwouldhavecalledbacksooner,Mrs.Maynard,butIwasinclass.”Thegirlsoundedverymuchlikeateenager.“IsCrashokay?”
“Whydoyouask?”
“Well,he’snotinschooltoday.”
“Whendidyoulasttalktohim?”
“Crash?Wetextedlastnight.”
“Whattime,Sutton?”Deliaasked.
Therewasahesitation.
“He’snotinanytrouble,”Deliasaid.“Buthewentoutlastnight,andIhaven’theardfromhimtoday.”
“Canyouholdonasecond?”Suttonasked.“Icanlookupexactlyonmyphone.”
“Sure.”
TherewasashortdelayandthenSuttonsaid,“Oneforty-eighta.m.”
“Whatdidhesay?”
“Hejustsaidhehadtogo.”
“That’sit.”
“Yeah.‘Gottarun.’Thatwasit.”
“Doyouhaveanyideawherehemightbe?”
“No,sorry.I’msureit’snothing.IcancheckwithTrevorandRyanandtheguys.”
“Thatwouldbegreat,thanks.”
“Theonlythingis,”Suttonbegan.
“Yes?”
“Imean,Idon’twantyoutoworryoranything.Butheusuallytextsme.Alot.Imean,wealldo.WehavegroupchatsandjustregulartextsandSnapchatandwhateverelse.Imean,Ican’trememberthelasttimehedidn’ttextmeinthemorning.”
Deliaputahandtoherneck.“Didyoutexthim?”
“Justonce.Noreply.Youwantmetotryagain?”
“Yes,please.”
“I’llletyouknowifIhearanything.”
DelialookedoveratHester.Hestermouthedtheword“Naomi”ather.Delianodded.
“IsCrashfriendlywithNaomiPine?”
Silence.
“Sutton?”
“WhywouldyouaskaboutNaomi?”
DelialookedoveratHester.Hestershrugged.
“Well,Naomiismissing—”
“AndyouthinkCrashiswithher?”
Thedisbeliefinhervoicewaspalpable.
“Idon’tknow.I’mjustasking.Aretheyfriends?”
“No,Mrs.Maynard.Idon’twanttobemean,butNaomiandCrashtravelinverydifferentcircles.”
“AndyetheencouragedhertoplaythatChallengegame,right?”
“Ihavetogotoclass.IfIhearfromCrash,I’llletyouknowrightaway.”
Suttonhungup.
Hestersaid,“IsthatCrash’sgirlfriend?”
“Onandoff.Suttonisprobablythemostpopulargirlintheschool.”
“AndCrashisoneofthemostpopularboys,”Hestersaid.
“Yes.”
“Somaybethepopularboysuddenlyhasathingfortheostracizedgirl.”
“Soundslikeabadteenrom-com,”Deliasaidwithashrug.“Thenagain,itwouldn’tbethefirsttime.”
“Maybeevenhisbullyingher—”
“Mysondidn’tbullyher.”
“—orwhateveryouwanttocallit.Maybeitwaslikethatlittleboyintheplaygroundwhopullsthegirl’spigtailsbecausehelikesher.”
Deliadidn’tlikethat.“Thatlittleboyusuallygrowsuptobeasociopath.”
“What’sonthosetapes,Delia?”
ThechangeofsubjectcaughtDeliaMaynardoffguard.Thatwasthepurpose,ofcourse.Hesterwasstudyingherface,lookingforthetell.Shethoughtshesawone.Notonehundredpercentsure.Hesterhadbeenquestioningpeopleforaverylongtime.Morethanmost,shecouldseealie,butthosewhoclaimedtobe“foolproof”were,toquotehalfoftheword,usuallythefools.
“There’snothingimportant,”Deliasaid.
“ThencontacttheFBI.”
“Wecan’t.”
“Whichsuggeststhatyouhavesomethingtohide.Sorry,I’mnotgreatwithsubtle,soletmegetrighttoit:Ithinkyou’relying.Worse,you’relyingtome.Soletmemakethisclear.Idon’tcarewhatyou’rehidingorwhat’sonthosetapes.IfIknowaboutitandI’myourattorney?Itstayssecret.”
Deliasmiledbuttherewasnohumorinit.“Always?”
“Always.”
“Nomatterwhat?”
“Nomatterwhat.”
Deliacrossedtheroomandlookedoutthewindow.Theviewwasspectacular,butitdidn’tseemtobebringingDeliaMaynardmuchpeaceorcomfortorjoy.“ItoldyouIwatchedyourshowtheothernight.WhenSaulStrausswason.”
“Whataboutit?”
“Straussstartedtoraisethe‘ifyoucouldhavestoppedHitler’speculation.Youcuthimoff.”
“OfcourseIdid,”Hestersaid.“It’sutternonsenseonathousandlevels.”
“Solet’ssayhypotheticallyIknewsomethingthatcouldhavestoppedHitler—”
“Ohplease—”
“—andIconfideittoyouunderattorney-clientprivilege.”
“WouldItell?”Hestersaid.“No.”
“EvenifitmeanslettingHitlerrisetopower?”
“Yes,butit’sadumbhypothetical,”Hestersaid.“Idon’twanttogettoodeepintothis,buthaveyoureadmuchontheHitlerparadox?Inshort,ifyouwentbackintimeandkilledbabyHitler,thechangesmaybesomassivethateverythingwouldchange,almosteverybirththereafter,andsoyouandIwouldn’tbehere.Butthat’snotwhythisisdumb.It’sdumbbecauseIcan’treadthefutureorgobackintime.Thefutureisallconjecture—noneofushaveacluewhatitwillbelike.SoIcantellyouthatwhateveryourgravesecretis,Iwon’ttell.Nomatterwhat.BecauseIdon’tknowifitwillreallystopthenextHitler.Ialsodon’tknowifstoppingthenextHitlerisevendesirable.MaybeifIstoppedHitler,amorecompetentpsychowouldhaveriseninstead—afterthoseGermanscientistsdevelopedanuclearbomb.Maybeitwouldhavegoneevenworse.DoyouseewhatI’msaying?”
“Ido,”Deliasaid.“Therearetoomanyvariables.Youmaythinkyou’restoppingaslaughter—andendupcreatingabiggerone.”
“Exactly.I’veheardsomehorribleconfessionsinthisjob.Gruesome,terrible…”Hesterclosedhereyesforamoment.“AndmaybetheworldwouldhavebeenbetterifIbrokemyoath.Butonlyonamicrolevel.Justiceforthatfamilymaybe.Preventinganothertragedyandevenworse.Butintheend,Ihavetobelieveinthesystem,flawedthoughitmaybe.”
Delianoddedslowly.“There’snothingonthosetapes.”
“You’resure?”
“Iam.TherearesomethingsRusty’senemiesmaytrytouseagainsthim.Butthereisnosmokinggun.”
“Okaythen,”Hestersaid.Herphonebuzzed.ShesawatextfromWilde:
Mysecuritypeoplewillbetherewithinthehalfhour.
Deliawasabouttomakeanothercall.Hesterwatchedherforamoment.Deliafelttheeyesonherandlookedup.“What?”Deliasaid.
“Letmeaddonecaveattotheabove,”Hestersaid,“mothertomother.”
“Okay.”
“Ifitmeantsavingmyson,I’dtalk.”
Deliadidn’tmove.
“I’dscream,I’dshout,I’drevealeverything.That’swhereallourparadoxtheorieswouldgooutthewindow.IfIcouldgobackintime,ifIcouldrevealatruthanditwouldbringmysonbacktome,I’ddoitinaheartbeat.Doyouunderstand?”
“Ithinkso.”
Hester’seyesstayeddryasshenoddedandturnedaway.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
TheteamfromWilde’soldsecurityfirmpulledupintwovehicles.
Thefirstcarwasaforest-greenHondaOdysseyminivan.ThedriverwasRolaNaser,thefirm’sfounder.WhenRolaopenedthecardoor,Wildecouldhearherkidsscreechingfromthebackseat.TheradiowasblastingoutaWigglestuneaboutfruitsaladbeingyummy.
“Mommywillberightback,”Rolasaid.
Neitherthescreechingnorthemusicpausedforthatannouncement.RolagotoutoftheminivanandstartedtowardWilde.Herblueblazerhadastainonthelapel.SheworePumasneakersandMomjeans.Adiaperbagofsomesortwasslungoverhershoulder.
Shestompedtowardhim,headhigh.Rolawasbarelyfivefeettallsoshehadtolookuptomeethiseye.Wildebracedhimself.
“Areyoukiddingme,Wilde?”
“What?”
“‘What?’”Rolasaid,doingaprettygood,prettysarcasticimpressionofhim.“Don’tevenwiththat,okay?”
“Sorry.”
“Ideservebetterfromyou,doInot?”
“Youdo,yes.”
“Sohowlonghasitbeen?”Rolaasked.
“Idon’tknow,”hesaid.
“Yes,youdo.Twoyears.Twofriggingyears,Wilde.LasttimeIsawyouwaswhenEmmawasborn.”
EmmawasRola’sfifthchild—threeboys,twogirls,allundertheageoftwelve.Yearsago,RolahadbeenhisfostersisterattheBrewers’house.Overtheyears,theBrewerfamilyhadalmostfortyfosterkidsgothroughtheirlives,andallhadbeenmadebetterbytheexperience.Somestayedonlyafewmonths.Some,likeWildeandRola,stayedyears.
“Andthisstainyoukeepstaringat”—shepointedtoherlapel—“theoneIknowyouaredyingtocleanoffme?That’sEmma’sspit-up,thankyouverymuch.Whatdoyouhavetosaytothat?”
“Gross?”
Sheshookherhead.Rola’sbackground,likehis,wassomethingofamystery.HermotherwasaSunniArabwhofledthekingdomofJordan,arrivingintheUnitedStatespregnantandunmarried.She’dcutoffalltiestofamilyandfriendsfromhernativecountry.Sheneverspokeofthem.Shenevertoldanyone,notevenRola,whoherfatherwas.
“Whatthehell,Wilde?Twoyears.”
“Sorry,”Wildesaidagain.Helookedtowardtheminivan.“Howiseveryone?”
Rolaarchedaneyebrow.“Forreal?”
“What?”
“‘Howiseveryone?’”Rolarepeated,doingtheimpressionagain.“That’sthebestyoucando?Youdon’tvisit.Youdon’tcall.”
“Icalled,”hesaid.
“When?”
“Today.Justnow.”
Rola’smouthdroppedopen.“Areyouforrealrightnow?”
Hesaidnothing.
“Youcalledbecauseyouneededhelp.”
“Stillacall,”hesaid.
Rolashookherheadandsaidwithdeepregretinhervoice:“Ah,Wilde.You’llneverchange,willyou?”
HehadwarnedRolawhenshe’dinsistedhebeherfull-timepartnerthattherewasnowayhecouldlast.Sheknewandevenunderstood,butRolahadalwaysbeenthecraziestsortofrah-rahoptimist,evenwhenshehadnorighttobe.IntheBrewerhouse,Rolahadbeenoutgoingandboisterousandengagedandsocialandneverstoppedtalking.She’dlovedthefrenzyofactivity,theshufflingoffosterkidsinandout,inpart,Wildethought,becauseshehatedbeingalone.
RolacravedacrowdthewayWildecravedsolitude.
Morethanovercomingtheobstacles,Rolahadexcelled—valedictorianofherhighschoolclass,vicepresidentoftheclass,captainofhersoccerteamoneverylevel.Asacollegestandoutathlete,she’dbeenheavilyrecruitedbytheFBI.Shejoined,roseuptheranksquickly,andthenwhenWildecamehomefromthearmy,shesomehowconvincedhimtoopenaprivateinvestigationfirmwithher.ShehaddecidedtocallitCRAW—Chloe,Rola,AndWilde.
Chloe,nowdeceased,hadbeentheBrewers’dog.
“CRAW,”Rolahadsaidatthetime.“Thenameiscute,right?”
“Adorable.”
Wildehadtriedtohangonandfitinandgototheoffice,butintheend,hecouldn’tstickitout.Itwasn’thisway.Hetriedtogiveherbackhisshares,butRolawouldn’ttakethem.Shestillwantedhisnameonthedoor,soeveryonceinawhile,hedidsomeextracurricularworkforher.
Heknewthatheshouldbebetteraboutcommunicating—returncalls,bemorepresent,reachouteveryonceinawhile,sayyestoasocialengagement.AndhedidcareaboutRolaandScottandtheirkids.Hecaredalot.Buthecouldn’tdomore.Itjustwasn’tinhim.
“Ibroughteverything,”Rolasaid,transitioningquicklyintoseriousworkmode.
Sheshruggedthebagoffhershoulderandhandedittohim.
Hefrowned.“Isthisadiaperbag?”
“Don’tworry.It’sbrand-new.Nogerms.Ifsomeoneopensit,they’lljustfindcleanbabyclothesandcleandiapers.Youcantellthemyou’reacaringuncle,thoughthatwillobviouslybeabigcharacterstretch.Doyouneedmetoshowyouwherethehiddenpocketsare?”
“IthinkI’llfigureitout.”
“IpackedfourGPStrackers,threethrowawayphones.Youneedablade?”
“No.”
“There’sstilloneinthesnap-flapclosure.WhereIkeepthewipes.”
“Terrific.”Wildelookedattheothercar.ItwasablackBuick.“IneedthreepeopletocovertheMaynardsatalltimes.”
“ThreeofourbestareintheBuick,”Rolasaid.Shenodded.Thecardoorsopened,andhersecurityteamsteppedout.
“Allwomen,”Wildesaid.
“Thataproblem?”
“Nope.”
“You’resoprogressive,Wilde.Andtheflamingredheadontherightisn’tawoman.Zeldaisgendernon-binary.”
Zeldagavehimalittlewave.Wildewavedback.
“Thefourofuswillrotateshifts,”Rolasaid.
“Wait.You?”
“Yesme.I’llbeinthefirstgroup.”
“Youcan’tbringyourkidstotheMaynards’.”
“Really,Wilde?Ididn’trealize.Thanksfortellingme.CanIjustjotthatdown?”Rolamimedapeninherhandandpadinherpalm.“Don’t.Bring.Kids.To.A.Kidnapping.”Sheputawaytheairpen.“There.Allset.”
“Ah,Rola,”hesaid,nowmimickingher.“You’llneverchange,willyou?”
Thatmadehersmile.
WildelookedbackoverattheHondaOdyssey.“Sowho’sinyourcar?”
“Emmaandthetwins.”
Thetwins,heremembered,weresix.
“I’mdroppingZoeandElijahatafriend’sbirthdayinUpperSaddleRiverataplacecalledtheGravityVault.Oneofthemomssaidshe’dwatchEmmauntilScottgetsthere.I’llbeattheMaynards’withinthehalfhour.”
“Okay.”
“AnythingIshouldknow?”
“Youknowthedrill.”
Rolagavehimamocksalute.“Right.”
Forasecond,thetwoofthemstoodthere,unsurewhattodo.
“Igottogo,”Wildesaid,awkwardlypointingbehindhimwithhisthumb.Thenhespunaway.Hedidn’tturnaround,butheheardtheblackBuickpeelaway,andRolacalmlysay,“Zoe,letgoofyourbrother’shair,”assheclimbedbackintotheminivan.
Tenminuteslater,Wildearrivedatthe7-Elevendowntheblockfromthehighschool.Avahadtextedhimthatshewouldmeethimherebecausetheschoolitself,afteryesterday’sphysicalaltercationwithThor-Bryce,wasoff-limits.Wildeheadedinside,watchedthehotdogscircle,sawtheSlurpeemachines.Nothingchangesata7-Eleven.Timeflowsforwardeverywhereexceptina7-Eleven.
AsAvaO’Brienpulledintotheparkinglot,Wildefelthisphonebuzz.HecheckedthescreenandsawitwasGavinChambers.
“Whereareyou?”Gavinasked.
“Seven-Eleven.”
“Areyouserious?”
“IcouldsnapapictureofaSlurpeeasproof.”
“Waitthere.”
“Why?”
“Somethingyouneedtosee.Don’tmove.”
Chambershungup.Avacameinandwithoutpreambleasked,“What’ssoimportant?”
Nohello.Nogreetingofanysort.MaybeAvawasupsetaboutyesterday.Shelookedmoreharriedtoday,thoughnolessbeautiful.Hereyessparkledwhentheylookedupathim.
Followingherlead,Wildegottothepoint:“DoyouknowSaulStrauss?”
Avamadeaface.“ThatactivistonTV?”
“Yes.”
“Iknowwhoheis,sure.”
“Imean,doyouknowhimpersonally?”
“No.Why?”
“You’veneverspokentohimorcommunicatedwithhiminanyway?”
“No.Again:Why?”
“BecauseheknewaboutmyencounterwithCrashatyourschool.”
“Sodideveryoneelse,”Avasaid.“Weendedupoutintheparkinglot,remember?”
“Heknewmorethanthat.”
“Idon’tunderstand.Whatareyouaskingmehere?”
“I’mtryingtofigureoutSaulStrauss’ssource.”
Thesparklingeyescaughtfire.“Thisiswhyyoudraggedmeoutofschoolduringmyfreeperiod?I’mnothissource,Wilde.AndwhywouldsomeonelikeSaulStrausscareaboutanyofthisanyway?”
Wildesaidnothing.
Avalookedannoyed.“Hello?”
Hedidn’tknowhowmuchtotellher.HebelievedheraboutnotknowingStrauss—andevenifshedid,hecouldn’tfollowthelineoflogic.SupposeAvaworkedwithStrausssomehow.SupposeAvatoldStraussthatWildehadconfrontedCrashaboutamissingteenagegirl.Sowhatfollows?Strausskidnapstheboy?Didthatmakeanysense?
Toomanymissingpieces.
“CrashMaynardismissing,”Wildesaid.
Thatsurprisedher.“Wait,whenyousay‘missing’—”
“Ranaway,hiding,kidnapped,whatever.Lastnighthewashome.Todayhe’sgone.”
Avatookthatinforamoment.“YoumeanlikeNaomi?”
“Yes.”
Shetooktwostepstowardthebacksothattheywerenowstandingbythechipsandsaltysnacks.Hedidn’tinterruptwithaquestion.Notyet.Hewantedtogivehersometime.
“Thatmayexplainsomestuff,”Avasaid.
“Like?”
“IthoughtNaomiwas…Idon’tknow.‘Lying’istoostrongaword.‘Exaggerating’istoomild.”
Wildewaited.Whenshedidn’tsayanythingelse,heasked,“Whatabout?”
“Crash.”
“Whatabouthim?”
“Naomihasbeenhintinglatelythatshehadasecretboyfriend—someonesuperpopular.Ididn’ttakeitseriously.Doyourememberthatoldbitabouttheguywhosays,‘Oh,Ihaveahotgirlfriend,butyouwouldn’tknowher’?”
Wildenodded.“ShelivesinCanadaorsomething.”
“Right.”
“YouthoughtNaomiwasmakingitup.”
“Orimaginingit,whatever.Yeah,atfirst.”
“Andthen?”
“ThenafterIpushedalittle,shetoldmethattheboywasCrashMaynard.ShesaidthewholeChallengegamewasacoverandthatCrashgotjealousbecauseshewentintothewoodswithMatthew.”
Matthew.
“Whatdidyousaytothat?”Wildeasked.
“IstartedwonderingwhetherCrashwassettingherupagain.”
“Pretendingtolikehersohecouldultimatelyhumiliateher?”
“Yes.LikeinCarrie.Or,wait,wasn’ttheboywhoaskedCarrieoutinthemovienice?Didn’thetrytodefendherbutthenthebulliespouredpig’sbloodonher?”
Wildedidn’tremember.“SoyouthinkmaybeCrashdoeslikeher?”
“Idon’tknow,”Avasaid,chewingonherlowerlip.“Butmaybethesimplestansweristhebestone—NaomiandCrasharetogether.Maybetheyjustwantafewdaysalone.Maybeitisn’tourbusiness.”
Somethingwasn’taddingup.Oritwasaddinguptooneatly.
“Ihavetogetback,”Avasaid.
“Letmewalkyoutoyourcar.”
Theyheadedouttotheparkinglot.Avahittheunlockbutton.Hewantedtoopenthedoorforher,butthatfelttoofauxchivalrous.Whenshegotintothedriver’sseat,hesignaledforhertolowerthewindowforamoment.Shedid.Wildeleanedagainsttheopening.
“IalsotalkedtoNaomi’sdad.”
“And?”
“HesaidNaomi’smotherwasabusive.”
HefilledherinonthedetailsofhisconversationwithBernardPine.AsAvalistened,hereyesglistenedwithtears.“PoorNaomi.Iknewtherelationshiphadn’tbeengoodobviously.Butthat?”Avashookherhead.“Ibettergo.”
“You’llbeokay?”
“Yeah,I’mfine.”
“Youwantmetostopbyyourplacelater?”heasked.
Thewordsjustcameout.Wildehadn’tplannedthem.Thatwasn’tlikehim.
Avalookedsurprised.Shetookanotherswipeathereyesandturnedtohim.“When?”
“Idon’tknow.Tonightmaybe.Tomorrow.Wecanjusttalk.”
Avalookedoutthefrontwindshieldratherthanathim.
“Nopressure,”Wildeadded.“Imaynotbefreeanyway,whatwithCrashandNaomi—”
“No,I’dlikethat.”
Avareachedthroughtheopenwindowandputherhandonhisface.Hewaited.Shelookedasthoughshewasabouttosaymore,butintheend,shejusttookherhandaway.Sheputthecarinreverse,pulledout,andheadedbacktowardtheschool.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
SoyougotArniePoplinready?”Hesterasked.
HesterstoodfacingthecomputermonitorintheMaynards’state-of-the-artstudio/office.Theroomwaswhiteandsteelandlookedmorelikesomethingyou’dfindinarefurbishedManhattanloftratherthanthisoldestate,butthereitwas.Thereweretelevisionscreensliningthewalls.HerproducerAllisonGrantwasontheline.
RolaNaser,someoneHesterhadknownformanyyears,wassettingupthelivefeed.HesterhadalwayslikedRola,admiredherstrengthunderadversity.WhenRolaandDavidwereteensatthesamehighschool,she’devenhopedthatmaybeherDavidwouldaskherout.Sheevenpushedhimalittle,surprise,surprise.Davidneverlistened,ofcourse,claimingthatitwouldbe“weird”becauseRolawas“likeWilde’ssister.”
Whatifhehad?Wouldeverythinghavechanged?WouldDavidstillbealive?
“Okay,he’sconnectedinnow,”Allisonsaid.
HestershookawaytheghostsandleanedtowardRola.“Didyouhearthat?”
“Gotit,”Rolasaidasshetyped.
Hester’sideawasasimplealbeitanunreliableone.SaulStrausshadsaidthathissourceontheMaynardtapeswasArniePoplin.ArniePoplinwas,ifnothingelse,anattentionwhore.HestergotAllisontotrackhimdownwiththepromiseofa“pre-interview”thatcouldleadtoalivesegment.
Rolasaid,“Youseethatmonitoronthatwall?”
“YoumeanthatgiganticTV?”
“Yes,Hester,thegiganticTV.”
“Iseeit.Ithinkyoucouldseeitfromspace.”
“Standoverthere,”Rolasaid.“I’mgoingtopatchArniePoplinthrough.”
“Standwhereexactly?”
“There’saspikeonthefloor.”
Andsotherewas.Aspikewaswhatstudiosortheaterscalledthemark,usuallymadewithelectricaltape,totellyouwheretostandorwheretoplaceapieceoftheset.Hesterstoodonit.
Rolasaid,“Ready?”
“AsI’lleverbe.WillArniebeabletoseeyouintheroom?”
“No.Hiscamerawillbefocusedonyourfaceonly.It’swhyIchosethatmonitor.”
“Great,thanks.”Hestersmiledather.“It’sreallygoodtoseeyou,Rola.”
“Andyou,Hester.Ready?”
Hesternodded.Rolaclickedafewmorekeys,andthescreencametolife.ArniePoplin’sfamiliar(thoughmorebloated)facefilledthescreen,hugeandclose-up,tooclose-up—see-his-skin-poresclose-up.Hesterwastemptedtotakeastepback,butalas,thespike.
“Hi,Arnie.”
Hescowledalittletootheatrically.“Whatthehellisthis,Hester?”
They’dmetovertheyearsatonethingoranother.Twenty-fiveyearsago,ArniePoplinhadstarredinahitfamilysitcomasthehilariousneighbor.Forthreeyearshewasbelovedandfamous.Then,poof,itwasover.Likemany,heendedupfightingthewithdrawalpainsfromtwoofsociety’smostpotentaddictions—drugsandfame.Peopleunderestimatethepowerofthatbright,warmbeaconknownasfame—andhowdarkandcolditgetswhenthatbeacongoesout.
SoArniedesperatelytriedtohangon.AllisonGranthalfjokedthatArniePoplinwouldappearattheopeningofagaragedoor.Hetriedtobowandscrapehiswayontogameshows,realityshows,homeandgardenshows,cookingshows—anythingtoturnonthatbeacon—lessbright,lesswarm—forevenafewseconds.
Hestersaid,“Iwantedtoaskyou—”
“YouthinkI’manidiot?”
Hewassweatyandred-faced.
“IsawyourSaulStrausssegment,Hester.Doyouknowwhatyoucalledme?”
“Acelebrityhas-been-turned-conspiracy-nut,”Hestersaid.
Hismouthdroppedopeninwhatsheassumedwasmocksurprise.Ittookhimafewsecondstoworkuptheblusteragain.Actors.“Youexpectmetojustforgiveyouforthat?”
“Youhavetwochoiceshere,Arnie.YoucandisconnectthiscallorSkypeorwhateverthisvideo-cloudythingyis,oryoucantellmeyoursideofit.”
“Youwon’tbelieveme.”
“Probablynot.Butifyoucanconvincemeyou’retellingthetruth,evenalittlebit,I’llhaveyouontheshow.”
“Solosegment?”Arnierubbedhisface.“Idon’twantsomepoint-counterpointcrap.”
“One-on-oneinterview.Justyouandme.”
Hecrossedhisarmsandpretendedtothinkitoverforamillisecond.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“TellmeabouttheRustyEggerstapesyouclaimDashMaynardhasinhispossession.”
“Theyexist.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“IwasonTheRustyShow.Youknowthis,right?”
“Right.”
“BigratingswhenIwason.Noonetalksaboutthat.”
Hestersighed.“Arnie.”
“Right,right.Soanyway,Ioverheardthem.RustyandDash.Theyweretalkingaboutthetapes.Dashsworehe’ddestroyedthem.”
“SoifDashdestroyedthem—”
“Ohcomeon.Noonereallydestroystapes,Hester.Youknowthat.AndRustyknewit.That’swhyhewassoupset.HeknewthatDashwouldnevergetridofthemtotally.Whywouldhe?”
“DashMaynardswearshedoesn’thaveanydamagingtapes.”
“Yeah,well,Dashisaselfishprick,isn’the?Hehasthisbigempire.Youeverbeentohishouse?It’slikesomethingoutofGatsby.”
“Haveyouseenthetapes?”Hesterasked.
“Me?No.”
“Sohowdoyouknowtheyexist?”
“Iheardthem.”
“Heardthetapes?”
“No.IheardDashandRustyarguingaboutthem.”
“Whatdidtheysayexactly?”
“Itwaslateatnight,see.Iwastheonlyonestillaround.TheythoughtIwasgone.Thattheywerealone.CanItellyouthetruththough?”
“Yeah,that’dbenice,Arnie.”
“Ipassedoutonthetoilet.”
“Sorry?”
“Yeah,Iwasinthestudiooffice.Inatoiletstall.Sittingdownon—”
“Igotthevisual,Arnie.”
“Anyway,Iwassnortingsomecoke,whatever.Idon’tknow.Ipassedout.WhenIwokeup,thebathroomwastotallydark.Itwastenatnight.Ipulledupmypants.Theywerestilldownaroundmyankles.”
“Hey,thanksforthatdetail.”
“Youwantthewholestory,don’tyou?”
“Boxersorbriefs?”
“Huh?”
“Nevermind,”Hestersaid.“Youpulledupyourpants.”
“Right,Ipullupmypants.ButlikeIsaid,it’stotallydark.Imean,pitchblack.Ifeelmywaytothelatch.Youknow,theonethatopensthestall.”
“Yes,Arnie,Iknowaboutthoselatches.Wehavetheminwomen’sbathroomstoo.”
“Anyway,it’sstilldark.Ifeelmywayoutofthecan.Igetintothehallway.I’mworriedthatmaybetheylockthedoorsatnight.LikemaybeIcan’tgetout.YouknowwhatImean?”
“Right,goon.”
“ThenIhearvoices.Twomen.”
“Letmeguess.RustyandDash.”
“Right.Andthey’rearguing.Igetcloser.IheardRustysay,‘Yougottogetridofthetape.Youhavetopromiseme.’He’sdrunk.Icanhearitinhisvoice.Rustyisusuallyincontrol,buthe’sgotthatsloppy-drunkthinggoingon.Andhekeepssaying,‘Youdon’tgetwhatitcoulddotous,youshoulddestroyit,youdon’twantanyonetoeverknow.’”
“AndwhatdidDashsay?”
“Hejustsaiddon’tworry,noonewouldeverknow,he’dmakesureofit.ButRustykeptinsisting.HekeptbeggingDashtodeleteit,butthenhe’dsortoftakeitback.”
“Whatdoyoumean,takeitback?”
“Heknew,Hester.Rustyknew.”
“Knewwhat?”
“ThatDashMaynardwouldneverreallydeleteit.Dashseeshimselfasaseriousdocumentarianorjournalistorsomething.Anobserver.Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifeventhatconversationwasrecorded.I’mtellingyou.Therewerebugseverywhere.Maybeeveninthatbathroom.”
“Uh-huh,”Hestersaid.Thiswassoundingmoreandmorelikeawasteoftime.“Sowhatelse?”
“That’snotenough?”
“Notreally.”
“TheyknewIwasthere.”
“Didtheysaysomething?”
“No,butthreedayslater,Igotcalledinforasurpriseurinetest.Theyfounddrugsinmysystem.Iwasfired.Me.Theirbigratingsdraw.Notonlythat,thetestwasleakedtothemedia.Youknowwhy,right?Itwasaplottodiscreditme.Iwasclean.”
“Youjusttoldmeyoutookcocaine—”
“Thatwasthreedaysearlier!”
Hewasgettingmoreandmoreagitated,shiftinginhisseat,eyesdarting,sweatbeadspoppinguponhisforehead,andHesterbetthatArniePoplinwasonsomethingrightnow.“Theyneededtodiscreditme.Theyneededtogetridofme.”
“Okay,thanks.”
“Rustykilledsomeone.”
Hesterstopped.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“That’swhatDashhasonhim.”
“Areyousaying,”Hesterbeganslowly,“thatDashMaynardhasatapeofRustyEggerscommittingmurder?”
“IcanonlytellyouwhatIheard.”
“Whichwas?”
“Rustysaying,‘Ididn’tmeantokillhim,itwasanaccident.’”
“Thosewerehisexactwords?”
“No.Idon’tknow.Thatwasthemeaning.Rustykilledsomeone.Thatwastheirbond.Dashevensaidthat,nowthatIthinkofit.”
“Saidwhat?”
“Thathe’dnevertellbecausethatwastheirbond.Somethinglikethat.Thatallthegoodthingsthatcameafterwerebasedonthatbond.I’mtellingyou,Hester.They’rekillers.OrRustyis.Dashhastheproof.Hehasalegalobligationtoreleasethatinformation,doesn’the?”
HesterthoughtaboutherearlierconversationwithDelia,aboutwhatsheknewandwouldn’trevealdespiteattorney-clientprivilege.SheglancedoveratRola.Rolashruggedasiftosayshedidn’tknowwhethertobelievehimornot.
“SocanIcomeontheshow?”ArniePoplinsaid.“I’mfreetonightifyouwanttodoitthen.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
GavinChamberspulledintothe7-ElevenlotinablueChevroletCruze.Alone.GonefornowatleastwereboththedriverandtheSUV.Discretion?Maybe.HeslidoutoftheChevywearingabaseballcapandsunglasses,which,Wildethought,wasalwaysadumbdisguisebecausetheonlypeoplewhodonthatlookaretryingtodisguisethemselves.Thenagainitwassunnyout.MaybeGavinwasjustwearingthembecausetheywerecomfortable.
Maybenoteverythingisafreakingclue.
“Whyareyouata7-Eleven?”Gavinasked.
“TheSlurpeeisn’treasonenough?”
Gavinsighed.“Sowhathaveyoulearned?”
“Ilearnednottomovebecauseyouhadsomethingyouneededmetosee.Atleast,that’swhatyoutoldmeonthephone.”
Heshookhishead.“Youremindmeofmyfirstwife.”
“Wasshehottoo?”
“Ahotmess.”
Wildecheckedhisphone.“DoyoumindgivingmealiftbacktotheMaynards’?Wecantalkontheway.”
“Suityourself.”Hehittheunlockbuttonontheremote.Astheygotin,Gavindroppedthebomb:“Weknowthatthere’sbeenaransomdemand.”
Hestartedupthecarandputitinreverse.
Topfourpossibilities,Wildethought.
One,Chamberswascompletelyfishing.Thatdidn’tseemlikely.
Two,whatwiththepanicaroundtheMaynards,Chambershadsimplysurmisedthattheremusthavebeenaransomdemand.Ifso,thatwasahellofaguess.
Three,hedidindeedhavecertainareasofthehousebugged.Verypossible.Rolawouldrunasweepandhe’dknowaboutthatsoonenough.
Four,Gavinhadaninsidesource.
Whatever,Wildewasn’tgoingtoconfirmordeny.Atthetrafficlight,GavinChambersturnedandstaredathim.Wildestaredback.Forafewmoments,neitherofthemblinked.Whenthelightturnedgreen,someonebehindthemhonkedtheirhorn.Gavinshookhisheadandmutteredsomethingunderhisbreathashepulledouthisphone.
“YouknowItoldyouthatCrashstayedastepaheadofuswiththemessagingapps—Snapchat,Signal,WhatsApp,whatever?”
“Yes.”
“OneofmybesttechguysfoundamessagereceivedonhisISPlastnightat2:07a.m.viaanewappcalledCommunicatePlus.It’sencryptedsothemessageandsendergetautomaticallydeletedaminuteafterthefileisopened.Iobviouslydon’tknowthedetails,butsomehow,don’taskmehow,mytechguywasabletogetthetailendofthelastmessagebeforeitwaserased.”
HehandedWildehisphone.Themessageread:
OfcourseIforgiveyou.Iknowyoudidthattofoolyourfriends.I’mwaitingatthesameplacerightnow.Soexcited!!!
Therewerethreeheartemojisattheend.
Wildeaskedtheobvious:“Doyouknowwherethemessagecamefromorwhosentit?”
“No.Weknowithadtobesomeoneelsewiththisappobviously,butthecontactandincomingISPorwhatevergetsdeleted.”
Wildestaredatthemessage.Hereaditagain.
“Didsomeonemakearansomdemand?”Gavinasked.
“Yousaidyoualreadyknow.”
“What?”
“Yourexactwordswere,‘weknowthatthere’sbeenaransomdemand.’Ifyouknow,there’snoreasontoaskme.”
“Canyoustopbeingapainintheassforfiveminutes?Rustywantstohelp.”
“I’msurehedoes.”
“Andwebothknowwhowrotethatmessage.”
Hemeant,ofcourse,Naomi.
“Assumingyou’reright,”Wildesaid,“whatdoyouwanttodoaboutit?”
“DidyoucheckNaomi’shouse?”
“Ivisitedthefather.”
“Didyoucheckthewholehouse?Lasttimethat’swhereshewasthewholetime,right?Inthebasement?”
Wildesaidnothing.Hecheckedhiswatch.Itwasalmostthreep.m.,anhouruntilthedeadline.WhentheyapproachedthegateinfrontoftheMaynardhouse,Wildesaid,“Thanksfortheride.”
“YouknowI’mright,”Gavinsaid.
“About?”
“Abouteverything.YouknowNaomiissomehowinvolvedinthis.”
“Uh-huh.Whatelseareyourightabout?”
Hegavehimthedaggerglare.“Thatyouandyoursistercan’thandlethisalone.”
“I’mnotcallingtheshots,”Wildesaid.
“IfyoutelltheMaynardstobringusbackin,they’lllistentoyou.”
Somethinghere,somethingaboutthiswholeencounter,wasdefinitelynotaddingup.
“Thanksfortheride,Gavin.Stayintouch.”
***
RolamethimbytheMaynards’securitygateinagolfcart.
“I’lldriveyouuptoHester.”
Hesatbesideherastheystartedupthedrive.Thegroundswereovermanicured.Manywouldfindthatbeautiful.Wildedidnot.Naturepaintshercanvas,thenyoucomealongandthinkyoucanimproveit.No.Natureissupposedtobe,pardonthewordage,wild.Youtameit,youlosewhatmakesitspecial.
Afterhefilledherin,Rolaasked,“Sowhatdoyouneedfromme?”
“Theransomnote.”
“Whataboutit?”
“Itaskedspecificallyforthe‘oldest’tapes.”
“Meaning?”
“ThefirsttimeDashMaynardmetRustyEggerswasinDCwhentheywereCapitolHillinterns.Seeifyoucanfindoutanythingaboutthattimeperiod.”
“Likewhat?”
“LikeIhavenoidea.Didtheyroomtogether?Hangout?It’salongshot,Iadmit.”
“I’llputsomeresearchersonit.”
“Also,seeifyoucanlocateSaulStrauss.HehastobeSuspectNumberOnehere.”
“Okay.Anythingelse?”
Wildethoughtaboutitandthenfiguredbettersafethansorry.“IneedyoutogotoNaomiPine’shousewhenitgetsdark.”
Rolalookedathim.“Weren’tyoujustthere?”
“Ineedtheplacesearched.”
“For?”
“CrashandNaomi.”
Rolanodded.“Onit.”
HestersataloneonastonebenchfacingtheManhattanskyline.AsWildeapproached,sheturnedtowardhimandshadedhereyes.Withherotherhandshepattedtheconcrete.“Sitwithme.”
Hedid.Foramoment,neitherofthemspoke.Theyjuststaredattheskylineoverthetrees.Thesunwasattheheightwhereeverything—buildings,trees,formations—lookedlikeithadangelhalos.
“Nice,”Hestersaid.
“Yes.”
“Andboring.”Hesterturnedtohim.“Youwanttogofirst?”
“No.”
“Didn’tthinkso,”Hestersaid.Then:“ItalkedtoArniePoplin.”
Shefilledhimin.
“Killedsomeone,”Wildesaidwhenshefinished.
“That’swhatheclaimsheheard.”
“Iassumeyouweren’tthefirstpersonhetoldthisto.”
“Iwouldhighlydoubtit.”
“Sowhyhasn’tanyonereportedit?”
“BecauseArniePoplinisanattention-seeking,unreliabledrugaddictwithanaxetogrind.”
“Okay.”
“Journalistswouldbewaryofhimunderanyconditions,butRustyEggersridestherefsbetterthananyone.”
“Ridestherefs?”
Hestersquintedintothesun.“Agoodfriendofminewasastarbasketballplayerincollege.Afirst-rounddraftpickoutofDuke.Youabasketballfanatall?”
“No.”
“Thenyouwouldn’tknowhim.Anyway,he’stakenmetoafewgamesatMadisonSquareGarden.Collegemostly.YouknowwhatIalwaysnotice?”
Wildeshookhishead.
“Thewaythecoachesrantandscreamatthereferees.Theselittlemenintheirsuitsandtiesspendtheentiregamerunningupanddownthesidelines,havingnonstoptantrumsliketoddlerswantingcandy.It’sembarrassingtowatch.SoIaskedmyfriend,thebasketballstar,whatwasthatallabout,andhesaidit’sanintentionalstrategy.Peoplebynaturewanttobeliked.Notyou,notme.Butpeopleingeneral.Soifyouscreamattherefseverytimetheyblowthewhistleonyou—legitimateornot—theyaremorelikelytogiveyouacall.”
Wildenodded.“Andthat’swhatRustydoeswiththemedia.”
“Exactly.Heconstantlyberatesthemandsotheycringeandgetscared,tokeepwithinthemetaphor,toblowthewhistle.Allpoliticiansdoit,ofcourse.Rustyisjustbetteratit.”
“WeshouldstillconfrontDashwithwhatArniePoplintoldyou.”
“Donealready.”
“And?”
Hestershrugged.“Whatdoyouthink?Dashdeniedit.Hecalledit‘rubbish.’Heactuallyusedthewordtoo.Rubbish.”
“Unfortunate.Yourtakeaway?”
“Sameasyours.”
“They’rehidingsomething.”
“Right.”Shepattedhisleg.“Okay,bubbalah,sowhatdidyoulearn?”
WildestartedbytellingherwhatBernardPinesaidabouthisex-wifeabusingNaomi.Hesterjustshookherhead.“Thisworld.”
“Somethingisn’tsittingrightwiththat.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Idon’tknow,”Wildesaid.“IstillthinkweneedtotalktoNaomi’smother.ItoldRolatofindher.”
“Good.Whatelse?”
WildetoldherabouttheappcommunicationbetweenCrashandmaybeNaomiaswellasAva’sconversationswithNaomiaboutabuddingrelationshipbetweenthetwoteens.
“AllsignspointtoCrashandNaomibeingtogether,”Hestersaid.
Wildesaidnothing.
“Solet’ssaythat’strueforthemoment,”shecontinued.“Let’ssaythesetwoteenssecretlyfellforeachotheranddecidedtorunoff.”
“Okay.”
Hestershrugged.“Howdoesthatturnintoaransomdemand?”
Wildedidn’treply.Hecheckedthetime.“Lessthananhourtothekidnapper’sdeadline.Shouldweheadinside?”
“Theysaidtomeetat3:45p.m.inthelibrary.”
“They,meaningDashandDeliaMaynard?”
“Yes.”
“Anyideawhattheyplanondoing?”
“Theydon’twanttotellusuntilthen.”
Wildelookedbackattheview.“That’snotnormal.”
“No,it’snot.”
Theybothfacedtheviewnow.Hesterclosedhereyesandlettherayswarmher.
“Howtoputthisdelicately,”Hestersaid.
Wildekepthiseyesonthedistantskyscrapers.“Delicately,”herepeated.“Notyourforte,Hester.”
“True,soheregoes:IwasthinkingaboutspendingthenightatLaila’s,butIdon’twanttosleepoverifyouare.”
Wildecouldn’thelpbutsmile.“Idefinitelywon’tbe.”
“Oh.”
“Doesn’tmeanit’sagoodideatostaythough.”
“Oh,”Hestersaid.Andthenagain:“Oh.Really?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“CanIbenosey?”
“Iassumethat’sarhetoricalquestion.”
“It’sbeensixyearssincewereallycommunicated.”
“I’msorryaboutthat,”hesaid.
“Metoo,andIhopeit’snotbecauseofDavid.”
David.Sayingthenameoutloudstilledeventhetrees.
“Idon’tblameyou.Ineverhave.Youunderstandthat,right?”
Wildedidn’tanswer.“Isthatwhatyouwanttobenoseyabout?”
“No,”Hestersaid.“Iwon’tsayyou’relikeasontomebecausethat’swayoverthetop.Ihavethreesons.They’retheonlyoneslikeasontome.ButIwastherefromthebeginning—fromthefirstdayyoucameoutofthewoods.Wewereallthere.Me.Ira.David,ofcourse.”
“Youwereverygoodtome,”Wildesaid.
“That’snotwhyI’mraisingthiseither,soletmeputitbluntly.ThoseonlineDNAgenealogytestshavebecomesuperpopular.Ieventookoneafewyearsago.”
“Anysurprises?”
“Notaone.I’msoboring.”
“ButyouwanttoknowifItookone,”hesaid.
“It’sbeensixyears,”shesaid.“Soyes,Iwanttoknowifyoutookone.”
“Idid.Veryrecently,asamatteroffact.”
“Anysurprises?”
“Notaone.I’msoboringtoo.”
“Seriously?”
“Noparentsorsiblings.Theclosestthingwasasecondcousin.”
“That’sastart,”shesaid.
Wildeshookhishead.“No,Hester,it’snot.Ifyou’relookingforamissingkid—son,brother,whatever—you’dbeonthatDNAsite.Nooneislookingforme,ergonoonecares.Idon’tmeanthatinapity-meway.Buttheyleftasmallchildaloneinthosewoodsforyears—”
“Youdon’tknowthat,”Hestersaid,interrupting.
Wildeturnedtolookather,butshewouldn’tlookbackathim.
“Don’tknowwhat?”heasked.
“Howlongyouwereoutthere.”
“Notexactly,no.”
“Itcouldhavebeendays.”
Wildedidn’tknowwhattomakeofthis.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?YoursonandIplayedforyears.”
“Years.”Hestermadeascoffingsound.“Comeon.”
“What?”
“Youweretwolittleboys.Youthinkyoucouldhavekeptasecretlikethatforyears?”
“That’swhatwedid.”
“That’swhatyouthinkyoudid.Youknowhowtimeslowsdownwhenyou’relittle.Itcouldhavebeendays,maybeweeks,butyears?”
“Ihavememories,Hester.”
“Idon’tdoubtthat.Butdon’tyouthinkmaybeitcouldhavebeenjustafewdays’worth?Youalwayssayyouhavenomemoryofanytimebeforeyouwereinthewoods.Somaybe—justhearmeout,okay?—maybesomethinghappenedtoyou,somethingsotraumaticthatyoublockedeverythingfrombefore.Maybe,sinceyou’veretainednothingaboutyourlifefrombeforethistraumaticevent,thosememoriesarenowmagnifiedandsowhatmayhavebeenafewdaysseemlikeyears.”
Thatwasn’twhathappened.Wildeknewthat.
“Hikersspottedmemonthsandevenyearsearlier.”
“Theysaidtheyspottedalittleboy.Mighthavebeenyou,mighthavebeensomeoneelse.”
ButWildewasn’tbuyingit.Herememberedbreakingintohomes—lotsofthem.Herememberedtravelingmiles.Herememberedthatredbanisterandthosescreams.
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”Wildesaid.“Evenifyou’reright,noonelookedforthatboy.”
“That’swhyyouneedtofindoutthetruth—tofeelwhole.”
Wildemadeaface.“Didyoureallysay‘tofeelwhole’?”
“Notmyfinestmoment,Iadmit.ButyouknowwhatImean.Youhaveissueswithintimacyandconnection,Wilde.That’snotasecret.Itdoesn’ttakeageniustoseeitallbeganwiththisabandonment.Somaybeifyougotsomeunderstandingofwhatcausedit,ofwhatreallyhappened—”
“I’dbemorenormal?”
“YouknowwhatImean.”
“Itwon’tchangeanything.”
“That’sprobablyso,”Hestersaid.“Thenagain,there’sanotherreason.”
“Thatbeing?”
“I’mcuriousashell,”Hestersaid,throwingupherhands.“Aren’tyou?”
Wildecheckedhiswatch.“Fifteenminutestotheransomdeadline.Let’sgofindtheMaynards.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY
TheMaynardssatinthesametwoburgundywingbackchairs.Notsurprisingly,theybothlookedstressedtothemax.Theirskinwasdrawn,complexionsashen,theireyesbloodshot.Somewhatsurprisingly,theywerebothsmartlydressedinexpensivecouture.Dash,sportingtanslackswithacreasethatcouldslicedelimeat,didthetalking.
“Pleasefillusinonanythingnew,”DashsaidtoWilde.
Wildedidhisbest.Theybothlistenedwithoutmoving,almostasthoughtheyweretryingtostayperfectlystillandnotshowanythingormaybe,morelikely,theywerejustworkinghardtoholdittogetherandfiguredthatifanypartofthemcracked,thatwouldbeit,they’dtotallyburstopen.WhenWildefinished,DashandDeliaturnedtooneanother.Delianoddedonce.
“DeliaandIhavetalkedthistodeath.We’vereviewedtheevidence.We’vetriedtomapoutatimelineofwhatoursondidlastnight.We’vetalkedtobothofyouextensively,andwe’vebouncedaroundthevarioustheorieswe’veheard.”
Hereachedoutandtookhiswife’shand.
“Thetruthis,wedon’tknowwhetherthisisakidnappingorahoaxorsomethingelseentirely.Neither,itseems,doeitherofyou.”
“Idon’t,”Hestersaid.“Wilde?”
“Impossibletoknowforcertain.”
“Exactly,”Dashsaid.“Whichiswhy,afterextensivediscussion,DeliaandIhavedecidedthatthebestcourseofaction,thesafestcourse,istosendthetapes.Wecan’tsendthemall.Thefilewouldbetoolarge,plus,well,howwouldanyoneknowhowmanyhourswehave?Idon’tevenknow.”
“Whydoyouhavesomuchfootage?”Hesterasked.
“It’salwaysbeenmyway,”Dashsaid.
“He’sadocumentarianfirst,”Deliaadded.
Wildenodded,lookedabouttheroom,thendecidedtogoforit.“Isthatwhyyou’retapingusnow?”
Silence.ThenDash:“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Wildetookouthisphone.“Ihaveanetworkscannerappthatdetectsiftherearelisteningdevicesorcamerasinaroom.Rightnow,it’sspottingnetworksandISPsthatcanonlybeexplainedbythefactthatwehavecamerasonus.”
Dashleanedbackandcrossedhislegs.“I’madocumentarian.Irecordourlivesaswell.Idon’tthinkI’lleveruseit—”
“Dowehavetodothisnow?”Deliasnapped.
“No,”Wildesaid.“You’reright.Let’sconcentrateonthetaskathand.”
Ithadallbeenabluff.Therewereindeedappsforscanningormappingoutnetworksanddetectinghiddencameras.Peoplewereusingthemtomakesure,forexample,thatAirbnbhostsweren’tspyingonthem.ButWildedidn’thaveoneonhisphone.
Itwasfiveminutesuntilthe4:00p.m.deadline.Alaptopwassetupontheoakcoffeetablebetweenthem.Dashhitthelinkthathadbeensenttothembefore.Ascreencamewithacountdownclockindicatingthelinkwouldbeliveinfourminutesandforty-seven,forty-six,forty-fiveseconds.
“MyteamwilltrytotracedowntheISPwhenwegolive,”Wildesaid,“butI’mtoldthatevenasimpleVPNwillpreventusfromgettinganythingsignificant.”
Theysilentlywatchedtheclockgounderthefour-minutemark.
“Sowhat’sonthetapes?”Hesterasked.
“Outtakesfromtheshow,”Dashsaid.“Behind-the-scenesstuff.Thewriters’roomwherewehashedoutideas.Stufflikethat.”
“Uh-huh,”Hestersaid.“Intheransomemail,theyaskedyoutouploadthe‘trulydamaging’tapetoaspecialfolder.”
Hesterwaited.Noonespoke.
“Areyougoingtodothat?”
Deliasaid,“Yes.”
“What’sonit?”
“Wedon’tseehowthat’srelevanttoyou.”
“Excuseme?”
“Wedon’twanttoshareanyofthis.Wearebeingforcedtoforthesafetyofourson.”
“Soyou’rewillingtoshareitwithananonymouskidnapper,butnotyourattorney?”
“Weseenoreasontoshowittoanyone,”Dashsaid.“ButasMr.Wildeherepointedout,thesepeopledidn’taskforapublicrelease.Soperhapsthey’llkeepittothemselves,perhapsnot.Eitherway,thisisnotaconfidencewewanttobetray,eventoyou.Wearebetrayingit,ifyouwill,forthesafetyofourson.”
HesterlookedatWildeandshookherhead.ThensheturnedbackandglaredatbothoftheMaynards.“Ihopeyoutwoknowwhatyou’redoing.”
Whentheclockclickeddowntozero,DashMaynardrefreshedthepage.Thepagewassimple.Thereweretwoyellowboxes.Onewasmarked:VIDEOS-UPLOAD,theother:SPECIALFOLDER-UPLOAD
Underthem,theinstructionssaid:
Clickbothlinks.Wewillnotcommunicatewithyouuntilthevideosstartuploading.
Whoeverwasbehindthis,Wildesaid,wasgood.Nonegotiation,noback-and-forth
Dashletloosealongbreath.Deliaplacedacomforting,familiarhandonhisshoulder.
“Heregoes,”Dashsaid.
Heclickedfirstthespecialfolderbutton,thenthevideosone.Thefilesbegantoupload.Aminutepassed.Thenanother.Finally,anewiconappeared.Anenvelope.Dashmovedthecursoroveritandclickedit.
Wewillneedtoreviewthefiles.Ifyoudidaswerequested,yoursonwillbereturnedtoyoutomorrowatexactlynoon.Wewillcontactyouwithhislocation.
Delia’seyesfilledwithtears.“Atnoon?”
Dashtookhiswife’shand.
“Oursonhastospendanothernightwiththesepeople?”
“He’llbeokay,”Dashsaid.“We’vedoneallwecan.”
“Havewe?”Deliaasked.
Silence.
DashturnedtowardWildeandHester.“Whatdowedonow?”
“Ifyoustilldon’twanttogototheauthorities—”Hesterbegan.
“Wedon’t.”
Hestershrugged.“ThenIguesswewait.”
***
Whentheywerebackoutside,HestersaidtoWilde,“Wearen’tgoingtowait,arewe?”
“I’mnotsurewhatwecando.”
“Areyougoingtohanghere?”Hesterasked.
“IfI’mnotonthegrounds,I’llbecloseby.”
“Same,”Hestersaid.“Imaygooutandgrababitetoeat,ifthat’sokay.”
“Ofcourseit’sokay.”
Hesterstartedtowringherhandstogether,twistingtheringsonherfingers.Forthefirsttime,Wildenoticedthatshewasnolongerwearingherweddingband.Hadshebeensixyearsago?Hecouldn’tremember.
“WithOrenCarmichael,”sheadded.
HesterCrimsteinblushed.Sheactuallyblushed.
“Seconddateintwonights,”Wildesaid.
“Yes.”
“Yippee.”
“Don’tbeawiseass.”
“Ifyoudon’twanttosleepatLaila’s,maybeyoucansleepatOren’s.”
“Stopthat.”Herblushdeepened.“I’mnotahussy,youknow.”
Wildesmiled.Itfeltnicetobenormal,evenifonlyforafewseconds.“Gotodinner,”hesaid.“Enjoy.”
“He’saniceman,”shesaid.“Oren,Imean.”
“Andhe’sahunkwithbroadshoulders.”
“Ishe?Ibarelynoticed.”
“Go,Hester.”
“You’llcallifthereareanychanges?”
“Iwill.”
“Wilde?”
Heturned.
“There’sbeennoonesinceIra.”
“Thenit’sabouttime,”Wildesaid.
***
Tony’sPizzaandSublookedexactlylikeitsname.
Therewasacounterwithtwoguysinwhiteapronsflippingpizzas.Therewasaletter-boardmenuabovetheirheadsforwalk-inswhodidn’twanttableserviceor,ifyoutookabooth,awaitress,alwaysalocalhighschoolgirl,handedyouamenuthatwasbothlaminatedandsticky.Thetablecloth,nosurprise,wascheckeredred.Eachtablewasclutteredwithanapkindispenser,anassortmentofshakersforparmesanandoreganoandthelike,andahalf-burnedcandlejammedintothetopofanemptyChiantibottle.Atelevisionthathungfromtheceilingplayedeithersportsorthenews.Rightnow,itwasplayingHester’sveryownnetwork.
Deckedoutinhiscopuniform,Orensatinaboothtowardtheback.Hestoodthemomenthespottedher,whichseemedveryformalinthisplace.
“Hey,”Orensaid.
Hekissedhercheekandtookherhand.Hestergavehishandasqueezeandslidintothebooth.
“Ibetyou’vebeenhereamilliontimes,”Orensaid.
Tony’swasatownmainstayandlessthanamilefromheroldhouse.Italsopurportedlyhadthebestpizzawithinaten-mileradius.
“No,”Hestersaid.“Infact,thisisthefirsttimeI’vebeenhereinmorethanthirtyyears.”
“Seriously?”
Hesternodded.“Onthefirstnightwemovedintotown,IraandIbroughttheboysherefordinner.Wewereexhaustedandstarved—it’dbeenalongday.Anyway,therewasonlyoneopentable,buttheywouldn’tletussitthereunlesswepromisedtoorderfulldinnersandnopizza.Idon’trememberthedetails,butwhatever,theywererudetous.SoIragotfurious.Hewasslowtoanger,Ira,butwhenhedid…anyway,weleftwithouteating.Irawrotetheowneraletter,ifyoucanbelieveit.Typeditup.Butheneverheardback.SoIraforbadeusfromgoingororderingfromthem.Idon’tknowhowmanythousandsofdollarstheylostovertheyearsfromthatincident.Theboys,theyweresoloyaltoIrathateveniftheywereinvitedtoabirthdaypartyhereortheirLittleLeagueteamcameafteragame,they’drefusetoeat.”Hesterlookedup.“WhyamItellingyouthisstory?”
“Becauseit’sinteresting,”Orensaid.“Doyouwanttogosomeplaceelse?TheHeritageDinermaybe?”
“CanItellyouafunnything?”
“Sure.”
“Ihadmyassistantcheck.Tony’swassoldfouryearsago.Iftheoldownershipwasstillhere,Iwouldn’thavecome.”
Orensmiled.“Sowe’resafetostay?”
“Yes.”Hestershookherhead.“I’msorry.”
“For?”
“BringingupIralikethat.FirstdateIbringupCheryl.SeconddateIbringupIra.”
“Gettingalltheelephantsoutoftheroom,”Orensaid.“Ilikethat.Whyareyouintownanyway?VisitingMatthewandLaila?”
Hestershookherhead.“Doingworkforclients.”
“Inourlittlehamlet?”
“Ican’tsaymore.”
Hegotit.Thewaitressdroppedoffasliceofmargheritapizzaforeachofthem.Hestertookabiteandclosedhereyes.Ittastedlikenirvana.
“Good,right?”Orenasked.
“I’mhatingIrarightaboutnow.”
Hechuckledandpickeduphisslice.“I’mguessingtheMaynards.”
“What?”
“Yourclients.TheMaynards.IwouldhaveguessedjustDashMaynard,butyousaidyouwerevisitingclients.WithanS.”
“Ican’tconfirmordeny—”
“Iwouldn’texpectyouto.”
“Whydoyouthinkit’stheMaynards?”
“Thehelicopter.Whentheyflyin,theyhavetocleartheairspacewithus.SoIknowitflewoutofManhattanthismorning.ThenyoupulledupinanUber,notyourblackEscaladedrivenbyTim.”
“I’mimpressed,”Hestersaid.
Orenshrugged.“I’matraineddetective.”
“Ican’ttalkaboutitthough.”
“Idon’twantyoutotalkaboutit,”hesaid.“I’mjustreallygladyou’reherewithme.”
Despiteeverything—theghosts,theransom,thisplace—Hestercouldfeelherfaceblushtothecolorofthepizza’stomatosauce.
“I’mgladI’mheretoo,”Hestersaid.
Forafewminutes,theworldshrunkdowntothesizeofthegorgeousmanacrossthetablefromherandtheambrosia-likepizzaonthetablebetweenthem.Sherelishedtheescapism.Itwasn’tsomethingHesteroftencraved.Shelikedbeinginthemix.Shefounditstressfultobeoutoftheloop.
Afewpeoplestoppedbythetable,mostlytoseeOren,butsomeofthefaceswerefamiliartohertoo.TheGromans,whousedtoplaytenniswithIraonSaturdaymornings.JenniferTallow,thatsuper-nicelibrarianwhosesonhadbeenfriendlywithJeff.EveryoneknewOren,ofcourse.Whenyou’reacopthatlonginatownthissize,it’sitsownformofcelebrity.Shecouldn’ttellwhetherOrenenjoyedtheattentionorwaspolitetoafaultoutofobligation.
“Whenexactlydoyouretire?”sheaskedhim.
“Threemonthsfromnow.”
“Andyourplans?”
Orenshrugged.“They’refluid.”
“Doyouthinkyou’llstayintown?”
“Forrightnow.”
“You’velivedoutherealongtime,”shesaid.
“Yes.”
“Everthinkaboutlivinginacityinstead?”
“Yes,”hesaid.“Ithinkaboutit.”
Whenhisphonesounded,theexpressiononhisfacehardened.“That’smyworkring.Ihavetotakeit.”
Hestergesturedforhimtogoahead.Itwasinteresting,shethought,theechobetweenhimhavinga“workring”andherlastnightwithhervariousphonevibrations.Orenpickedupthephoneandsaid,“Yep.”Afewsecondspassed.“Okay,whoisclosesttoTony’s?Good,okay,havehimswingaroundandpickmeup.”Hehungupthephone.
“Sorry,Ihavetogo.Imightnotbelongifyouwanttowaitor…”
“No,that’sokay.ItoldLailaI’dcomeby.”
Hestood.“Areyousure?”
“Yes,noproblem.I’llgetanUber.”
“Okay,thanks.”Hethrewtwotwentiesdownonthetable.“I’llcallyoulater.”
“Anemergency?”Hesterasked.
“It’sjustacaraccidentonMountainRoad.I’llcallyouwhenI’mdone.”
Orenhurriedforthedoorasasquadcarpulleduptothefront.Hedidn’tlookbackandseewhathe’dleftbehind.Hesterjustsatthere.Shecouldn’tmove,couldn’tbreathe.Thebloodhadfrozeninherveins.Herlungsstopped.Shecouldhearherpulse,herheartbeatgrowingimpossiblylouduntilitwastheonlysoundshecouldhear.
“It’sjustacaraccidentonMountainRoad…”
Likeithappenedallthetime.Likeitwasnobigdeal.
Atearescapedandrandownhercheek.Shecouldfeelmoretearsbuilding,agutturalcryrisinginherthroatthatwouldneedtobereleasedsoon.Timewasgrowingshort.Hesterfoundherlegs.Shemanagedtostandandstumbletowardthebathroom.Whenshewasinside,sheclosedthedoor,lockedit,andmuffledherscreamwithherhand.
Hestercouldn’tsayhowlongshestayedthere.Nooneknockedonthedoororanyofthat,sosheimaginedonlyaminuteortwopassed.Nomore.Shegotherselftogether.Shelookedinthemirror,splashedwateronherface,andsawDavid’sghostinthereflection.
“It’sjustacaraccidentonMountainRoad…”
ShewonderedwhereOrenhadbeenthatnightwhenhegotthecall.Washeatwork,inasquadcar,atTony’sliketonight—orwasheathomewithCheryl?DidhegetwokenupinbedandCherylturnedtohimandaskedifsomethingwaswrongandthenmaybeOrenshookhisheadandkissedhergentlyandtoldhertogobacktosleep,murmuring…
“It’sjustacaraccidentonMountainRoad…”
Thisallmadesensenow.Hesterconsideredherselfneitherpessimistnoroptimist,butsheknewsomehowthatthiscouldn’twork,thatthehappybubbleshe’dbeeninwithOrenlastnighthadtobetoofragilenottoburst.Nowsheunderstood.Orenhadbeentherethattragicnight.Likeitornot,hewasentangledintheworstmomentofherlife—andtherewasnowaytochangethat.ShewouldseeOren,maybekisshim,maybeholdhim,andshewouldalwaysbetransportedbacktothathorriblenight.
Howcouldanyrelationshipsurvivethat?
Shedriedherfacewithapapertowel,tookoutherphone,andclickedforanUber.Eightminutesaway.Hestertookafewmoredeepbreathsandanotherlookinthemirror.Shelookedold—likeanoldwoman—whichshewas.Itsuckedtolookinthemirrorandseeitsometimes.Theharshlightofthisstupidpizzeriabathroomamplifiedeverywrinkle.
Herphonebuzzed.ShecheckedthenumberandsawitwasAllisonGrant,herproducer.Hestersaid,“What’sup?”
“Younearatelevision?”
“Icangettoone.Why?”
“SomeoneleakedatapeofRustyEggers.”
Hesterfeltherbackstraighten.“Bad?”
“Very.ThereisnowayRustyEggerssurvivesthis.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
RustyEggerswatchedontheTVinhispenthouse.
Gavinstoodbehindhim.Rusty’stwotopaides—JanSchnall,onetimechiefofstafftoSouthCarolina’sRepublicangovernor,andLiaCapasso,acampaignmanagerfortwoDemocraticsenators—satonthecouchtakingnotes.Thecrawlonthebottomofthescreenunimaginativelyscreamedinredcaps:
BREAKINGNEWS:SHOCKINGRUSTYEGGERSVIDEOAnchormanScottGallett:“Thevideoisbelievedtobetenyearsold,fromseasononeofTheRustyShow…”
“Theygotthatpartright,atleast,”Rustysaid.
“TheyoungwomanisKandiPate,theyoungstarofthehitkidcomedyAmazingDarcy,whodidthreeguestappearancesonTheRustyShowthatseason.Atthetimeofthistaping,shewouldhavebeensixteenorseventeenyearsoldwhileRustyEggerswouldhavebeeninhismidforties.Againwecaution:Thisstoryisbreaking.Whilethevideoappearstobeauthentic,wehavenotyetindependentlyauthenticated—”
“Notthatthatwillslowthejackalsdown,”Rustysaid.
GavinnoticedthatRustyseemedremarkablycalm.Histwoaidesdidnot.
Onthevideo,RustyEggershashisarmaroundKandiPateonacouch.Kandiseemstocringeathistouch.RustyEggers:Mostguysyouragedon’tknowwhatthey’redoing.Sexually,Imean.YouknowwhatI’msaying?KandiPate:Uh-huh,myagentiswaitingdownstairs.Rusty:Idon’tthinkyouragentisdoingrightbyyou.Kandi:(nervouslaugh)She’sgottenmethisfar.Rusty:Kiddieroles.You’reafull-grownwomannow.Andsotalented.Kandi:Thankyou.Rusty:Whydon’tyoucomebymyhotelroomtonightandwecantalkmoreaboutit?Kandi:Tonight?I’mnotsure—AndthenRustyEggerskissesherhardonthemouth.
“Look!”Rustygesturedtothescreen.“She’snotexactlyfightingback,isshe?”
Butshewasn’texactlypullinghimclosereither.
Rusty’stwofemaleaidesblanched.
Gavinasked,“Doyouknowwherethiswastaped?”
“LookslikeMaynard’sNewYorkstudio,”Rustysaid.
Thekissends.KandiPatequicklystands,smoothsherskirt,wipeshermouthwiththebackofherhand.Sheforcesasmile.Kandi:Ihavetogonow.Rusty:Tonightthen?Nineo’clock.We’lljusttalk.Kandirushesoutoftheroom.
Rustyturnedawayfromthetelevisionandlookedathistwoaides.“Toansweryourfirstquestion,yes,sheshowedupthatnight.”
AnchormanScottGallett:KandiPateendedupbeingfiredfromTheRustyShowforwhatwasrumoredtobedruguseandinsubordination,butwehaveourexpertpanelwithuswhonowwonderabouttheveracityofthoserumorsandifshewasavictimof—
Rustyflippedoffthetelevision.“Expertpanel,”herepeated.“Givemeabreak.”Herubbedhishandstogether.“Lia?”
LiaCapassolookedupinadaze.
“Youhavethebotsready?”
“They’reonstandby,”Liasaid.
“Good.”Rustybegantopace.“Sogetthefirstgroupofthemtoclaimthatthistapewasateachingdemonstration.”
“Ateachingdemonstration?”
“Yes.That’swhywefilmedit.KandiandIwereactingoutinappropriateworkplacebehavior,sothatanyoneemployedbyTheRustyShowwouldknowthatwewouldhavezerotoleranceforthiskindofthing.”
JanSchnallsaid,“Youthinkthatwillfly?”
“That’sjustbotgroupone,Jan.Forbotgrouptwo,wesaythatKandiwasworkingona‘MeToo’screenplay.Wayaheadofhertime.Sheaskedmetoactoutascenewithher.Lia,getourgraphicdesignpeopletocreateascreenplaywiththisexactdialogue.Useoneofthebigscreenwritingprogramsfromtenyearsago.FinalDraftorMovieMagicmaybe.Tellthemtoaddapageofdialoguebefore,apageofdialogueafter,thatkindofthing.Makeitlooklegit.Thenweleakitasthe‘unproducedmanuscript’KandiPatehopedtodevelopbeforehercareerhittherails.”
Liajottedthatdown.“Gotit.”
“Wesaythatasamentorfiguretomanyyoungpeoplewhoappearedonmyshow,Iwastryingtobesupportiveinreadingtheselineswithher,butIwasclearlyuncomfortableinwhatshewantedmetodo.Jan,getafewbodylanguageexpertstoinsistthatI’mclearlyactingandIlookhesitantduringthepretendkiss.”
“Right.”
“Next,wegorightandleft.Jan,getsomeright-wingbotstosaystufflike‘HowcometheleftisalwaysintosexualfreedomandwomenmakingtheirownchoicesandnowtheyaresayingthatKandiPateistooweaktodecidewhotodate?’—thatkindofthing.ThenLia,gettheleft-wingbotstosay,‘Wedon’tbelonginpeople’sbedroomsandthismaturewomanshouldbeabletomakeherownchoices.’Youknowthedrill.DoyouguysknowtheageofconsentinNewYork?”
LiatappedsomethingintoheriPad.“Seventeen.”
“California?”
“Eighteen.”
Hethoughtaboutit.“WealsohaveanofficeinToronto.Howaboutthere?”
Liatypedsomemore.“Itwasfourteen.Nowit’ssixteen.”
“Okay,cool.Let’sspreadanotherrumorthatthishappenedinourTorontooffice.Wealsogetanothergroupoffakeprofilestoraisethe‘machoman’excuse.”
Janfrowned.“Machoman?”
“Youknow,like‘Whatred-bloodedall-Americanmalewouldn’tmakeamoveonahotpieceofasslikeKandiPate?’and‘Allthewhinybabiesonlinearejustjealousofarealman,’thatkindofthing.TheyshouldallkeeprepeatingthatKandiwasoflegalage.”
LiaandJanbothnodded,warmingslightlytothetask.Gavinjustwatchedinsilence.
“Finally,let’sgetthe‘fakenews’groupstosaythetapehadobviouslybeendoctored.Againwehavethosesocialmediaaccountswithvariouslevelsof”—Rustymadequotemarkswithhisfingers—“‘expertise,’right?Let’sgetthemtoworkuptheconspiracynuts.Havethemnotice,Idon’tknow,somekindofirregularshadowsinthefilmandclaimthatit’saclearPhotoshopjoborthatthesoundisoff.HavethemmakeupthoseYouTubevideoswheretheycirclestuffandsay,‘Whoa,thisshadoworwhatevercan’tbe,someonehadtohavetamperedwithit,yadayada.’Oh,thengetafewvoice‘experts’tosaythatit’snotmyvoice,thatitissomeonedoingabadimpression.Havesomeofthebotssayitsoundslikeitwassplicedfromoldfootageorsomething.Withme?”
“Withyou,”Liasaid.
Janadded,“That’sperfect.”
Neitherwomanwasblanchinganymore.Theywereboth,infact,smiling.
“ThenIwantourownbotsfightingwitheachother.‘Whocaresifit’saPhotoshop?It’stotallylegalanyway!’Or‘Stopworryingabouttheethics—thetapeisfakenews,itneverhappened.’”
Liaasked,“Youwanttogowithallthese?”
“Alltheseandlet’scomeupwithafewmore.Like,whydon’tthenetworksshowwhathappenedbeforethis—likewhenKandiPatewashittingonRusty?Oh,that’sgood.Let’sgetagroupposting‘Here’salinktotheWHOLEtapewhereyoucanseeKandiisaggressivelymakingmovesonRustyandhe’stryingtobackoff,whydon’ttheyshowthat?’Butthen—oh,I’mlovingthis—thelinkwillleadtoanerrormessageandthenthebotswillclaimthemainstreammediaorthegovernmenttookitdown.It’sacover-up,they’llscream.Fullbotattack—gettheright-andleft-wingonesonthat.Iwantpeoplefightingoverhowwecan’tblamemeforanyofthis.”
“Lovethat,”Liasaid.
“Andthenlet’sdothestandardattack-the-process.Youknow.Therealcrimeisn’tonthetape—therealcrimeis,whoillegallytapedus?Whatawfulpartisanwithaclearaxetogrindbrokeintomyofficeandunlawfullyspiedonme?Thosearetherealcriminals.Whyarepowerfulpeoplewillingtobreaklawstostopmymessagefromreachingthepeople?”
“Oh,that’sgood,”Jansaid.
“Right?Also,Lia,haveoneofourlawyersreachouttoKandi.Remindherofthenondisclosureagreementshesigned.She’snotallowedtosayanything.Ifshedoes,wewilldestroyherahundreddifferentways.Ifshebacksus,letherknowthatwearefinancinganewfilmwhichwethinkwillbeagreatcomebackroleforher.”
“Gotit,”Liasaid.
“Onequestion,”Jansaid.
“Shoot.”
“Themediaisgoingnutsrightnowlookingforacomment.Whatdoweputinourofficialpressstatement?”
“Nothingyet.Let’swaitandseewhatsocialmedialookslikeinafewhours.Weshouldknowbetterthen.Myguessis,ourstatementwillbeprettyvague.Somethinglike‘WewillnotcommentbecausewedonotwanttoharmthereputationofMs.Pate,whoisafinepersonandvulnerablementee,andwefinditdisgustingthatthemediawoulddragherthroughthemudlikethisjusttogetsomeadditionalclicksandwewon’tparticipateinthatkindofgossipytrashoverwhatisclearlynotwhatitisbeingmadeouttobe.’Thatsortofthing.Butnotyet.Iwanttoseewhichstorytakesroot.Let’sgetthetalkingpointstoourpeople,sotheycangetontheairasap.Weneedtokeepseedingconfusionhere,people.”
“Onit,”Liasaid.
Thetwowomentooktotheirphonesandtablets.
RustypulledGavintotheside.“Youknowwherethetapecamefrom,right?”
“IassumetheMaynards.”
“Youweresupposedtostopthis.”
“Itoldyou.Theyfiredme.”Then,loweringhisvoice,Gavinadded,“Youalsotoldmethetapeshadnothingharmful.”
“Ifthisistheworstofit,wewillbefine.”
“If?”
“What?”
“Yousaid‘if.’Whatelseisthere?”
“Getthecar,”RustyEggerssaid.“IwanttogototheMaynards’.”
***
WildewasinthelibrarywithDeliaandDashMaynardwhenthenewscastsbegan.Theywatchedthe“breakingnews”insilence.
Duringthefirstcommercialbreak,Wildesaid,“Iassumethatwasthe‘verydamaging’upload.”
“Wedidn’twanttoreleaseit,”Deliasaid.
Shestoodandheadedforthedoor.Dashlookedsurprised.“Don’tyouwanttowatch—?”
“I’veseenenough.Ineedsomeair.”
Delialeft.Wildelookedupatthestainedglassinthelibrary’sturret.Itwasdarkoutside,yetthewindowssomehowstillglowedasthoughthesunwereshiningthroughthem.Theroom,asbefore,feltofftoWilde.Agrandlibrarylikethisshouldsmellofage—leatherfromthebooks,pinefromthewood,mustfromusage.
“Thatshoulddoit,don’tyouthink?”
Nooneelsewasintheroom,soDashwastalkingtoeitherWildeorhimself.
“Dowhat?”Wildeasked.
“Satisfythekidnappers.EndRusty’scampaign.”
Wildedidn’tknow.Healsodidn’tknowwhetherDashsaidthiswithregretorglee.Therewasfearintheman’svoice.Thatmuchwasobvious.
“Sowhatdoyouthinkisgoingonhere?”Wildeasked.
“Pardon?”
“Withyourson.Doyouthinkhewaskidnapped?”
Dashfoldedhishandsandleanedback.“Intheend,DeliaandIfiguredthatitwasbettertobesafethansorry.”
“Thatdoesn’treallyanswermyquestion.”
“It’sthebestIcando.”
“Therewasmoretoyourdecisiontoreleasethisvideothough,wasn’tthere?”
“I’mnotfollowing.”
“Thepressureisoffnow,”Wildesaid.
Dashsoundedannoyednow.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“ThemediademandingyoureleasetheRustyEggerstapes,everyoneconstantlyscreamingatyoutodotherightthing,tobeapatriot—youwouldhavebeenhoundedforever.Noprivacy.Norealfreedom.Relentlesspressureonyou,yourbusinesses,yourfamily.Butnowthatthistapeisfinallyout,that’sallover.Therehastobesomereliefinthat.”
Dashturnedbacktothetelevision.“Idon’tmeantoberude,butdoyoumindmovingtoanotherroomforawhile?I’dreallyliketobealoneforabit.”
Wilderoseandstartedforthedoor.Hewasjustinthecorridorwhenhiscellphonerang.
ThecallerIDreadNAOMIPINE
Heputthephonetohisear.“Hello?”
“Hey,Wilde.”
Hispulsepickedupastep.“Naomi?”
“Stoplookingforus,okay?”
“Naomi,whereareyou?”
“We’refine.We’resafe.”
“Crashiswithyou?”
“Ihavetogo.”
“Wait—”
“Please.You’llruineverything.Wedon’twanttobefound.”
“Youalreadytriedthis,Naomi.”
“What?”
“WhenyoudidtheChallenge,”Wildesaid.“Doyourememberwhatyousaidtome?”
“Inthebasement,youmean?”
“Yes.”
“IsaidIwantedtomakeachange.”
“Yousaidmorethanthat.”
“IsaidIwantedtomakeatotalchange.IwantedtodosomethingsobigitwoulderasemypastandIcouldstartagain.”
“Isthatwhatyou’redoingnow?”
“You’regoingtosayIfailedthen,soI’llfailnow.”
“No,Naomi,I’mnot.Ibelieveinyou.”
“Wilde?”
“I’mhere.”
“Please.Ifyouwanttohelpme,you’llletmebe.”
***
RustyEggerssatinthebackofthecarwithGavin.Hekeptstraighteningandbendinghisbadleg.Gavinwatchedhimreachintohispocket,pulloutasmalltinbox,andopenit.Rustypluckedouttwopills,threwthembackinhismouth,swallowed.HisglassyeyesturnedtoGavin.
“Tylenol,”Rustysaid.
Gavindidn’treply.
Rustypickeduphisphone,dialedanumber,andsaid,“Hi,it’sme.Don’texplain.I’mcominguptoyourplace.Ihearthere’ssecurity.Justmeetmeout…yes,exactly.Thanks.”
GavinChambersasked,“Areyougoingtotellmewhatthat’sabout?”
“Doyourememberwhenwediscussedthehorseshoetheoryofpolitics?”
“Yes,ofcourse.”
“WetalkedabouthowmostAmericansusedtobeinthemiddle,relativelyspeaking.That’showAmericakeptitsbalanceallthoseyears.Theleftandtherightwerecloseenoughtohavedisagreementsbutnothate.”
“Okay.”
“Thatworldisgone,Gavin,andsoitwillnowbeeasytodestroythesocialorder.Themiddlehasbecomecomplacent.Theyaresmart,buttheyarelazy.Theyseethegrays.Theygettheotherside.Extremists,ontheotherhand,seeonlyblackandwhite.Theyarenotonlycertainthattheirvisionisabsolutelycorrect,buttheyareincapableofevenunderstandingtheotherside.Thosewhodon’tbelieveastheydoarelesserineveryway,andsotheywillkillforthatvision.Igetthosepeople,Gavin.AndIwanttocreatemoreofthembyforcingthoseinthemiddletochooseaside.Iwanttomakethemextremiststoo.”
“Why?”
“Extremistsarerelentless.Theydon’tseerightorwrong—theyseeusandthem.You’reabaseballfan,aren’tyou,Gavin?”
“Iam.”
“AYankeefan,right?”
“So?”
“SoifyoufoundouttheYankeemanagercheatedorthatallyourfavoriteYankeestooksteroids,wouldyouthenbecomeaRedSoxfan?”
Gavinsaidnothing.
“Well?”
“Probablynot.”
“Exactly.TheYankeescouldneverdoanythingthatwouldmakeyouaRedSoxfan.That’sthepowerIwanttoharness.IreadaquoterecentlyfromWernerHerzog.Youknowwhoheis?”
“TheGermanfilmdirector.”
“Right.HesaidthatAmericawaswakingup,asGermanyoncedid,totheawarenessthatone-thirdofourpeoplewillkillone-thirdofourpeoplewhileone-thirdofourpeoplewatches.”RustyputhishandonGavin’sshoulder.“YouandIaregoingtochangetheworld,myfriend.”Heleanedforward.“Dropmeoffupaheadonthenextcorner.”
“IthoughtweweregoingtotheMaynards’.”
“Changeofplans.”
“I’mnotfollowing.”
Theypulledtothecorner.Therewasawomanbyabusstop.Shehadherheaddown.
“There’sadinerthreemilesdowntheroadonRoute17.”
“Iknowit.”
“Waitformethere.Ishouldn’tbetoolong.”
Theydroveoff.Astheydid,Gavintriedtomakeouttheidentityofthewoman.Hecouldn’tbesure—wouldneversweartoit—buthethoughtthatitlookedverymuchlikeDeliaMaynard.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
WhenHesterwokeupthenextmorning,ittookheraminuteortwotorealizewhereshewas.Herheadpounded.Herthroatwasdry.Thesliverofmorninglightsneakingintothebedroomhurthereyes.Inthedistance,comingfromdownstairs,sheheardvoices.
Shetriedtopieceittogether.Itdidn’ttakelong.AfterleavingTony’sPizzaandSub,she’dcometoheroldhome.Noonewashereyet.Matthewwasoutwithsomefriends.Laila,well,fromwhatshesurmised,Lailawasoutonadate,whichexplainedWilde’sremarkearlierabouthimnotsleepingover.Leftalone,inthehousethatonceheldherownfamily—Ira,Jeff,Eric,David,allherboys,thatwaswhatshealwayscalledthem,herboys,herbeautiful,wonderfulboys—Hesterknewthattheonlywaytoquiettherousedghostswasthroughsomesortofchemicalintercession.ShefoundabottleofWriters’Tearswhiskeyintheliquorcabinetandpouredsomeoverice.Thatwasastart,agoodstart,mellowingtheghosts,lettingthemsitbesideherandholdherhand,butnotriddingherofthem,soshefumbledintoherpurseandfoundthepills.Hesterrarelytookthem,onlywhenshefeltastrongneed,andiftonightwasn’tthedictionarydefinitionof“strongneed,”thenshewasn’tsureanythingwouldeverbe.Evenasshedroppedthemintohermouth,Hesterrealizedthatthiswasn’tasmartplayonherpart,thatyounevermixboozeandmedication,thatsheshouldbeconsciousandsharpincaseeitherherfamilyorWildeneededher.
Mostnightsthatwouldstopher,butagaintonightwasnotmostnights.
Shesquintedandreachedforherphone.How,shewondered,hadshemadeitintothebedroom?Shedidn’tremember.HadLailacomehomeandfoundherformermother-in-lawpassedoutonthecouch?HadMatthew?Shedidn’tthinkso.Sheconjuredupavaguerecollectionofbeingcognizantofherstateandpreparingforbedbeforetheinevitableovercameher.Butshecouldn’tbesure.
Hestercouldstillhearvoicesfloatingupfromdownstairs.ForamomentsheworriedthatperhapsLailaforgotthatshewasstayingover,thatHesterwasactuallylisteningtoLailamakebreakfastforwhatevermalemayhavestayedthenight.Sheheldherbreathandstrainedtohear.
Twovoices.Bothfemale.OnewasLaila’s,theother…?
Hester’sphonewasdowntofourpercentcharge.Theclockonthescreenread6:11a.m.ShecouldseethenotificationsfromOren.He’dcalledseveraltimes.Therewasonevoicemail.ItwasfromOrentoo.Shehitplay.
“Hey,it’sme.I’m…I’msosorry.Ican’tbelievehowinsensitiveIwas.Igotthecall,andIjustrushedout,notthinking,butthat’snoexcuse.I’mreallysorry.Justsoyouknow,theaccidentwasnothingmajor,noseriousinjuries.Idon’tknowifthatmattersornot.Callme,okay?Letmeknowyou’reallright?”
Butshewasn’tallright.
Hestercouldheartheworryinhisvoice.Orenwassuchagoodman,butitwaslikeinoneofthosemovieswhereawitchcastacurseonyou.OrenhadbeentherethenightDavidhaddied.He’dbeencalledtoanaccidentscenethatnighttoo,andtherewasnowayshecouldshakethatandbenormalaboutit.Notnow.Notever.Thecursedoomedanychance,remoteasitprobablyhadbeenanyway,forthemtobehappy.
Shedidn’twantOrenupset.Thiswasn’thisfault,andhewasn’tayoungmananymore.Noneedtogivehimadditionalagita.ShetypedoutatexttoOren:
Allgood.Superbusy.I’llcallyoulater.
Butshewouldn’tcallhim.Orreplyifhecalledback.Thenhe’dgetthemessage,andeveryonewouldbebetteroff.
Thevoicesdownstairsweregettingloudernow,onthemove.Funnywhatyouremember.Thisroom,whichLailaandDavidhadturnedintoaguestroom,hadbeenHester’shomeofficewaybackwhen.Shestillcouldtellfromtheechoesandvolumethatthetwowomenhadoriginallybeentalkinginthekitchenandthatnowtheyhadmovedtothefoyernearthefrontdoor.Probablysayinggoodbye.Hesterlookedoutthewindowas,yep,ayoungwomanwalkeddownthecobblestonepathtoadarkbluecarparkedinfrontofthehouse.
HesterthrewonarobeLailakeptforguestsandmadeherwayintothehallway.Lailawasatthebottomofthesteps.
“Goodmorning,”Lailasaid.
“Goodmorning.”
“YouwereinbedwhenIgotbacklastnight.Everythingokay?”
“Yes,”Hestersaidthroughthehammeringinherhead.“Fine.”
“I’msorryifIwokeyou.Aclientwholivesnearbyneededtotalk.”
“Oh,Igetit.”
“There’sbrewedcoffeeinthekitchen,ifyouwantsome.”
“Youareagoddess,”Hestersaid.
Lailasmiledandpickedupherbag.“Ihavetorunbeforethetrafficbuilds.Youneedanything?”
“Nothing,Laila,thankyou.”
“Matthewshouldbeupsoon.Ifyou’restillintowntonight,doyouwanttododinner?”
“Let’splayitbyear.”
“Sure.”
Withthat,Lailasmiled,openedthedoor,andexited.Hesterdroppedherownsmileandputbothherhandsonherpoundinghead,pushingatthesidestokeepherskullfromfallingopen.Shestarteddownthestairsbecause,noquestionaboutit,thecoffeewouldhelp.
Fromthewindowbythedoor,shecouldseetheyoungwomaninthebluecarhadn’ttakenoffyet.Lailawalkedovertoher.Hesterwatchedthemtalkforasecondortwo.Lailaputacomfortinghandonthewoman’sshoulder.Thewomanseemedtogainstrengthfromthat.Shenoddedandhittheremoteonhercar.
“Hey,Nana.”
ItwasMatthewatthetopofthestairs.
“Hey.”Stilllookingoutthewindow,Hesterasked,“Doyouknowthatwomanwithyourmom?”
“Who?”
“Theonegettingintothatbluecar.”
Matthewboundeddownthestepsasonlyateenagercan.Hesquintedoutthewindowastheyoungwomanslippedintothecarandpulledaway.“Oh,”Matthewsaid.“That’sMs.O’Brien.IthinkMomishelpingherwithacase.”
Why,Hesterwondered,didthatnameringabell?
“Ms.O’Brien?”
“Yeah,”Matthewsaid.“Sheteachesartatmyschool.”
***
TheUberdriverwho,accordingtotheapp,wasnamedMikewitha4.78rating,didn’tlikethelooksofthecrowdinfrontoftheMaynardManorsecuritygate.
“Whatthehellisthis?”heaskedHester.
Ahandfulofprotestors,nomorethanten,stoodoutsidewithsignsreadingFAKENEWS!andSPIESBELONGINJAILFORTREASONandchanting.Anequalnumberoflocalpolicewereonthescene,keepingthembackfromtheopening,andas4.78MikeofthegrayHondaAccordpulledup,auniformedOren,ofallpeople,strolledover,leanedhisheadinthefrontpassengersideofthecar,andasked4.78Mike,“Aretheyexpectingyou?”
Fromthebackseat,Hestersaid,“Yes.”
Orenturnedtowardher.“Oh.Hi.”
Andwithjustthosetwowords,David’sghostmaterializedandsatnexttoher.
“Hi.”
Foramomentneitherofthemmovedorsaidanything.Then4.78Mikebrokethesilence.“Canwegoinorwhat?”
“TheguardwillletyoudropMs.Crimsteinoffinsidethegate,”Orensaid.“Haveaniceday.”
David’sghostfadedawayasOrenpulledbackand4.78Mikedrovethroughthegate.WildewaswaitingforHesterwiththegolfcart.AfterHesterclimbedin,Wildesaid,“Naomicalledmyphone.”
“What?When?”
“Lastnight.”
“Whydidn’tyoucallme?”
“Youwereoutonadate.”
“Whataboutlater?”
Wildetriednottosmile.“Ididn’tknowhowwellthedatewent.”
“Don’tbefresh.”
“Sorry.”
“SowhatdidNaomisay?”
“Tostoplookingforthem.”
“Them?Asinshewasn’talone?”
“Correct.”
“Didshesounddistressed?”
“Notlikeshewasbeing-held-for-ransomdistressed.Actually,shesoundedprettyexcited.”
“Likethemostpopularboyintheschooljustranawaywithyou?”
“Couldbe.”
Theystartedupthedrive.
“Igotsomethingtoo,”Hestersaid.
“Okay.”
“AvaO’BrienwasatLaila’sthismorning.”
Thatthrewhim.“Why?”
“Lailasaidshewasaclient.”
“Inwhatway?”
Hestermadeaface.“Wecan’task—andshecan’ttell.Attorney-clientprivilege,remember?”
Wildecheckedthetime.“Avawillbegettingtoschoolsoon.IfIhurry,Imightbeabletocatchheronthewayin.”
“Andaskherwhat?I’vebeenthinkingaboutit.HowwouldalegalmatterwithLailahaveanythingtodowiththis?”
Wildehadnoidea,butwiththedeadlinestillfivehoursaway,hefeltantsy.
“I’llbebacksoon,”hesaid.
“WherearetheMaynards?”
“Intheirlibrary.I’lldropyouoffbeforeIheadout.”
Thenighthadbeenlong.Wildehadn’tslept,goinginsteadforalaterunthroughthewoods.Helikedrunningthroughthetreesatnight,seeinghowfasthiseyesadjustedtothedarkness,thefivesenses—yes,youusedallfive—allblendingtogether,makingthewholesomehowgreaterthanthesumoftheparts.He’dcheckedinonhisEcocapsule.Hehadn’tbeenbacksinceGavinChambers’smensurroundedit.Hewantedtomakesurenoneofthemhadcomebackandtinkeredwithit.Theyhadn’t.Healsohadn’tshoweredandchangedinawhile,sohetookcareofthattoo.
Whenhewasbackathiscapsule,Wildethoughtaboutthedecoyidea—theGhostArmy,thetacticaldeception.Themilitarypurposebehindallthathadbeensimple:Createchaosandconfusion.Judgingbywhathe’dseenonthenews,thatwaswhatRustyEggersandhispeopleweredoingtoo.
Itwasworking.Inaway,whenyouthinkabouthistory,italwaysworked.
HetooktheMaynards’Lexustothehighschool,hopingtocatchAva.Hesterwasright.Therewasprobablynothingtolearnhere.ButWildelikedAva.Partofhimdidn’tquitewanttoacceptit,butsomethingmadehimwanttoseeheragain.Avahadbeenonthebackofhismindsinceyesterdayatthe7-Eleven,whenhe’dsurprisedhimselfbysuggestingtheygetbacktogetheragain.Nothingserious.Heknewthat.Partofthereasonherarelywentbackwasthatwhilehewouldn’tformanattachment,theshort-termpartnermight.Thatdidn’tseemrightorfair.Sonoencores.
Except,ifhecouldbehonestwithhimself,hewantedonewithAva.
Sowasshowingupatschooljustanexcusetoseeher?
Wildeparkedacrossfromtheteachers’lot,gotoutofthecar,leanedagainstit.Afewminuteslater,hesawAva’scarpullinandpark.Whenshegotout,hewatchedherforamoment.AvaO’Brienwasbeautiful,hethought.Strong.Passionate.Independent.Sensitive.
Hetookasteptowardherwhenacarpulledinfrontofhim,blockinghispath.
Thedriverleanedhisheadoutthewindow.“Getin.”
ItwasSaulStrauss.
“Whythehelliseveryonesuddenlylookingforme,Wilde?”
“Youtellme.”
“Ihadnothingtodowiththattapegoingpublic.”
“Iknow,”Wildesaid.
“SowhythehellisGavinsearchingforme?Whydidyoucallme?”
“Longstory.”
“Getinthecar,”Strausssaid,hiseyesglancingleftandright.“Ineedtoshowyousomething.”
WildelookedtowardAva.Shewasgoingthroughtheentrance.
“It’simportant,”Strausssaid,“butI’mnotgoingtostayoutintheopenwithGavinChambersgunningforme.GetinnoworItakeoff.”
WildehesitatedlongenoughforAvatodisappear.Nobetteroptionnow.HegotintoStrauss’scaronthepassengerside.Strausshittheaccelerator.
“Wherearewegoing?”Wildeasked.
“WoulditbetoomelodramaticifIanswered‘tofindthetruth’?”
“Definitely.”
“Thentheanswerisprison,”Strausssaid.“We’regoingtoprison.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Whatdoyoumean,prison?”
SaulStrausskeptbothhandsonthewheel.“Whyiseveryonesoanxioustofindme?”
“Thebetterquestionmightbe,Wherehaveyoubeen?”
“Ihaveenemies,Wilde.I’msurethatdoesn’tsurpriseyou.SowhenacalculatingfascistlikeGavinChambers,whoisworkingforapill-poppingnihilistlikeRustyEggers,comesa-knocking,Idon’tmakemyselftooavailable,youknowwhatI’msaying?”
“Iknowyou’renotsayingwhereyou’vebeen.”
“Whydoyoucare?WhydoesGavincare?”
Wildedidn’tseeareasonnottotellhim.“CrashMaynardismissing.”
“Whatdoyoumean,missing?Wait,isthatwhythattapewasreleased?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“And,what,youguysthinkIhavesomethingtodowiththis?”
“Doyou?”
“Yeah,right,I’mhidingCrashMaynard.HowmanyarmedmendoesGavinhaveguardingthatfamilyanyway?”
Itwas,Wildethought,agoodpoint.“Howdidyoufindme?”
“Justnow?IhaveaguywatchingtheMaynards’place.Bytheway,whothehellcallstheirhouse‘MaynardManor’?Isthatnotthemostostentatious,over-the-top,obscene…Imean,ifyouwantedevidencethericharetoorich,IwouldmakethatplaceExhibitA.Anyway,myguytailedyouhere.”
“Andyouwereinthearea?”
“Ineededtoseeyou.”
“Totakemetoprison?”
“Yes.”
“IhavetobebackattheMaynards’byeleventhirty.”
“Thiswon’ttakelong.IhearHesterinterviewedArniePoplin.”
“Youhearalotofthings,Saul.”
“ThatIdo.IassumeHesterbelieveshimnow.”
Wildechangedsubjects.“Theothernightatthehotelbar,whywereyousointerestedinNaomiPine?”
“Iwasn’t.IwasinterestedinCrashMaynard.”
“Whoisnowmissing.”
“Youdidn’tbelieveme,butItoldyou.TheMaynardshavedamagingtapes.”
“Andthey’vebeenreleased,”Wildesaid.
“Yeah,Iwatchedthenews,”Strausssaid,“andthereaction.NoonecaresthatEggerskissedateenagegirl,exceptthosewho’dnevervoteforhimanyway.”
TheycrossedtheTappanZeeBridgeandheadednorthalongsidetheHudsonRiver.IfStrausswasbeingstraightaboutgoingto“prison,”Wildehadaprettygoodideawheretheyweregoing.
“SingSing?”Wildeasked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Ineedyoutoseeforyourself,Wilde.Ineedyoutounderstand.”
LessthananhourfromManhattan,theSingSingCorrectionalFacilitywasoneofthemostfamousprisonsintheworld.Builtintheearly1800s,SingSinghidinplainsight.IfyouwereoneofthemanycommutersontheMetro-NorthtraintoGrandCentralstation,yourdailyjourneyactuallybisectedSingSing.IfyoutookaboatuptheHudson,you’dseeSingSingperchedatopanotherwiseenviableplotoflandoverlookingtheriver.Thenotoriouselectricchair“OldSparky”hadexecutedoversixhundredpeopleinsideSingSing’swalls,includingtheallegedSovietspiesJuliusandEthelRosenbergin1953.Supposedly,JuliuswasstrappedtoOldSparkyfirstanddiedquickly.ThenEthelwasledtothesamechairwhereherhusbandhadsorecentlyperished—whatmustthathavebeenlike?—butherexecutionhadcomplications.Witnessessaidittookseveralattemptstokillher,thatherheartkeptbeatingdespiterepeatedelectricshocks,thatsmokestartedrisingfromthetopofherhead.
WildehadnoideawhySaulStrausswastakinghimhere.
StraussparkedthecarinSingSing’svisitorlotandturnedofftheignition.“Comeon.Thiswon’ttakelong.”
Strausshadclearlycalledinafewfavors,sotheygottomoveaheadoftheline.Theyemptiedtheirpocketsandwalkedthroughthemetaldetector.Thevisitingroomlookedlikeaschoolcafeteriaonsteroids.Thereweretablesandchairs—noneofthatbehind-glassstuffyousawontelevision.Prisonerswerebeingopenlyembracedbylovedones.Youexpectedadultspouses,partners,parents,siblings,butmostlythevisitorswerefamilieswithyoungchildren.Lotsofchildren.Somespenttimeinthemulticolored“familycenter,”whichlookedlikeadaycareorpreschoolclassroom.Therewereboardgamesandpicturebooks,craftsandtoys.Otherswentoutsideandhungontheplayground.
TheguardsassignedthematableinclearlymarkedRowFourrightbytheprisonerentrance.Theyweretoldtositandremainseateduntiltheirinmatejoinedthem.Wildewantedtoaskfordetails,buthe’dgonethisfarandfiguredthathe’dletStraussplayitout.Therewasabuzzingnoise,andthedoortotheactualprisonslidopen.Theinmatespouredinandhurriedtowardtheirfamilies.WildelookedatStrauss.
“Ourguywillbelast,”Strausssaid.
Wildedidn’tknowwhatthatmeant,buthewouldlearnsoonenough.Afterthelineofmen(SingSingCorrectionalwasanall-malefacility)receded,onefinalmanentered—viaawheelchair.Wildeunderstoodwhytheywereseatednearthefront.
Itwashandicapaccessible.
Themaninthewheelchairwasblack.Hishairwascutshortandgray,hisskinleathery,hiseyesjaundiced.Wildeguessedhisagetobefifties,maybesixties.Itwouldbeaclichétosayprisonagesaman,butsometimestheclichéisapropos.
SaulStraussstoodandthenhebenthistallframedowntohugtheman.“Hey,Raymond.”
“Hey,Saul.”
“IwantyoutomeetWilde.Wilde,thisisRaymondStark.”
Wildeshooktheman’shand.RaymondStark’sgripwasfirm.“Sonicetomeetyou,Wilde.”
“Youtoo,”Wildesaid,becausehehadnoideawhatelsetosay.
RaymondStarksmiledupathim.Thesmilelituphisface.“TheyfoundyouinthewoodswhenIwasbeingheldatRedOnion,”Raymondsaid.“That’samaximum-securityfacilityinVirginia.I’djustgonein,andIstillhadhope,youknow?Likethey’drealizetheygotitwrongandI’dbefreeanysecond.”
Thisman,Wilderealized,hadbeeninprisonformorethanthreedecades.
“Ireadeverystoryaboutyoubackthen.Thewholeidea…Imean,youhadnoconnections,nofamily.Nopast,right?”
“Right.”
“Idon’tknowifthat’sablessingoracurse.”
SaulsatdownandsignaledforWildetodothesame.
“Thanksforcoming,”RaymondsaidtoWilde.
WildelookedatRaymond,thenatStrauss.“DoyouwanttotellmewhyI’mhere?”
“In1986,RaymondwasarrestedforthemurderofayoungmannamedChristopherAnson.AnsonwasstabbedtodeathintheDeanwoodsectionofWashington,DC.TheclaimwasthatAnsonhadgoneintothewrongneighborhoodtobuydrugs,thoughthatpartwasmostlykeptoutofthepresstoprotectthevictim’srep.Anyway,hewasstabbedonce,intheheart,androbbed.Youwouldhavebeentooyoungtorememberit,butitwasabigcase.Ansonwasarich,whitecollegestudent.Therewerecallsforthedeathpenalty.”
RaymondputahandonWilde’sarm.Wildeturnedandlookedintothejaundicedeyes.
“Ididn’tdoit.”
“Youcanimaginewhatitwaslike—themedia,themayor,thepressuretosolvethecase.ThecopssupposedlygotananonymoustipthatAnsonhadbeenbuyingdrugsfromablackkidinDeanwood,sotheydraggedineveryblackkidtheycouldfind,stonewalled,keptthemawake,startedupwiththeenhancedinterrogations—againyouknowthedeal.”
“Ido,”Wildesaid.“WhatIdon’tknowiswhyI’mhere.”
Strausspressedon.“Eventually,onekidsaidthatRaymondsolddrugstorichwhiteguys.”
“Marijuana,”Raymondsaid.“Thatpartistrue.Imostlyjustdelivered.”
“Ajudgeissuedasearchwarrant,andaDCMetrodetectivenamedShawnKindlerfoundaknifeunderRaymond’smattress.Testsshoweditwasthemurderweapon.Youcanimaginehowfastitwentdownhillfromthere.”
“Theknifewasn’tmine,”Raymondsaid.AgainhemetWilde’seye.“Ididn’tdoit.”
Wildesaid,“Mr.Stark?”
“CallmeRaymond.”
“Raymond,I’veseenthebiggestsociopathslookmeintheeyelikethatandlietomyface.”
“Yeah,Iknow,”RaymondStarksaid.“Metoo.Everydayofmylife.I’msurroundedbythem.ButIdon’tknowwhatelsetosay,Wilde.I’vespentthirty-fouryearsinhereforsomethingIdidn’tdo.I’vetriedmybest.Istudiedhard,gotmyhighschoolequivalency,collegedegrees,evenaJD.Iwrotelettersandbriefsforotherinmatesandmyself.Butnothinghappened.Nothingeverhappens.”
Raymondfoldedhishandsonthetableandlookedoff.“Imaginebeinginaplacelikethiseveryday,screamingoutthetrutheverywayyouknowhow,butnooneeverhearsyou.Youwanttohearsomethingweird?”
Wildewaited.
“IhavethisrecurringdreamthatI’mgettingout,”Raymondsaidwithahintofasmile.“Idreamsomeonefinallybelievesme—andIgetsetfree.AndthenIwakeupinthesamecell.Imaginethatforasecond.ImaginethatmomentwhenIfirstrealizethatit’sjustadreamandItrytoholdon,butit’slikegrabbingsmoke.Mymotherusedtovisitmetwiceaweek.Shedidthatformorethantwentyyears.Thentheyfoundamassinherliver.Cancer.Ateherup.AndIwondereveryday,everyhour,ifthestressofseeinghersonlockedupforsomethinghedidn’tdoweakenedherimmunesystemandkilledher.”
“Raymond,”Strausssaid,“tellWildehowyouendedupinthatchair.”
Raymondslowlyshookhishead.“Ifit’sallthesame,Saul,I’llpassonthat.Asadstorylikethatwon’tmakeyoubelieveme,amIright?”
Wildesaidnothing.
“SoI’mnotaskingyouforpityortobelievemyfaceormyeyes,”Raymondsaid.“InsteadI’mjustgoingtoaskyouforafewmoreminutes.That’sall.NopleadingabouthowinnocentIam.Noemotion.JustletSaulfinishwhathewantstosay.”
Wildewasgoingtosaythathedidn’thavethetimerightnow,thathewasinthemiddleofanindustrial-strengthproblemofhisown,thatevenifhewasconvincedthatRaymondStarkhadbeenrailroaded,itwouldmakenodifference.Wildecouldn’tdoanythingthatSaulStraussandhisorganizationcouldn’tdobetter.
WhatstoppedhimfromsayingthatwasthatWilderealizedtherehadtobeareason,agoodreason,whyStrausshaddrivenhimup.StrausshadsomeideawhatwasgoingonwithCrashMaynardandNaomiPine,andyethehadstillinsistedonmakingthisjourney.Soratherthanlosetimeprotestinghispresence,Wildesawlittleharminshowingsomerespectandgivingthemanotherfewminutes.Itwouldn’tchangeanythingbackatMaynardManor,whichwasmorethaneverfeelinglikeworldsawayfromSingSing.
RaymondStarknoddedatStrausstogoahead.
“Twoyearsago,”Strausssaid,“weattheTruthProgramdiscoveredthatDetectiveKindlerplantedevidenceinatleastthreecasestoreachhisarrestquotaanduphisprofileasacrimefighter.TheDCattorneygeneral’sofficeisnowbeingforcedtoreexamineanumberofKindler’sarrests.They’vevacatedoneconvictionalready.Butthey’removingslowly,andnoonewantstotouchtheChristopherAnsonmurder.”
“Whynot?”Wildeasked.
“Becausethecasewassohighprofile.EveryonethoughtRaymondwasguilty—fellowofficers,prosecutors,themedia,Anson’sfamilyandfriends.Itwouldbemorethananembarrassmentnowifitcameoutthattheknifewasplanted.Andevenifwecouldprovethat,plentyofpeoplewouldstillsayRaymondwasthekiller.It’slikeOJ.TonsofpeoplethinkMarkFuhrmanplantedthebloodyglove—buttheyalsothinkOJdidit.”
Strausshandedhimagrainyphotographofayoungwhitemanwithabigsmileandwavyhair.Heworeablueblazerandredtie.“ThisisChristopherAnson,themurdervictim.Thephotographwastakentwoweeksbeforehismurder.Hewastwentywhenhewaskilled,ajunioratSwarthmoreCollege.Christopherwasthequintessentialall-Americanboy—basketballcaptain,debateteam,three-point-eightGPA.TheAnsonsareabigblue-bloodfamilyinMassachusetts.TheysummeredinahugeestateinNewport.Yougettheidea.”
Wildesaidnothing.
“ItriedtoapproachtheAnsonfamilywithwhatwelearnedaboutDetectiveKindler.Theydidn’twanttohearit.Intheirminds,thekilleriscaughtandgotwhathedeserved.It’snotanunusualreaction.You’vebeenbelievingonethingforoverthirtyyears.Youbecomevestedandblind.”
“Saul?”
ItwasRaymond.
“Wildehasbeenverypatientwithus,”Raymondsaid.“Showhimtheotherphotonow.”
Strausshesitated.“I’dratherputitinmorecontextfirst.”
“He’llgetthecontext,”Raymondsaid.“Showhim.”
Straussreachedintothemanilafolderandpulledoutanotherphotograph.
“Atfirst,thisdidn’tmeanmuchtous.ButthenArniePoplinmadethatcomment.”
HehandedWildeagroupshotofaboutthirtyorfortyyoungpeople,allwelldressed,healthylooking,andvibrant.Thephotographhadbeentakenoutdoorsonwhiteconcretesteps.Someoftheyoungpeoplesat,somestood.ThefirstfaceWilderecognizedwasChristopherAnsonstandingsecondfromtheleftonthetop.WildequicklyrealizedthattheotherportraitofChristopherAnsonthatStrausshadshowedhimhadbeenthissamephoto,justcroppedandenlarged.
Inthebackground,abovethesmilingfaces,WildecouldseethefamiliarwhitedomeoftheCapitolbuildinginWashington,DC.
Achillbegantocreepdownhisneck.
“ChristopherAnsonspentthatsummerinterningforaMassachusettssenator.”
Wilde’seyestraveledalongthepicture.Hegotitnow—sawitall—buthewaitedforStrausstopointitout.StrausspointedtoafacetwoawayfromChristopherAnson.
“That’sDashMaynard.”
Hisfingermoveddowntotheyoungwomanwhohadn’tchangedmuchovertheyears.“That’sDeliaMaynard,néeReese”—andthenthefingerslidtothefacenexttoher—“andthat,myfriend,isthecurrentsenatorforthegreatstateofNewJersey,RustyEggers.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
BackintheSingSingparkinglot,WildecalledtheMaynardstoseewhethertherehadbeenanynews.Therehadn’tbeen.TwohoursremaineduntilthekidnapperspromisedtoreleaseCrash.
WhentheygotbackinSaulStrauss’scar,Wildesaid,“SoletmeseeifIhaveyourtheoryright.”
“Goahead.”
“ArniePoplinclaimstohaveoverheardRustyadmittokillingsomeoneandDashhavingsomekindofconfessiontoitontape.Youfigurethey’retalkingaboutChristopherAnson.”
“Inshort,yes.Butthere’smoretoit.”
“Suchas?”
“Theywereoutthatnight.”
“Who?”
“ChristopherAnsonandRustyEggers.Thattookawhiletotrackdown.Theseinterns—theywereallkidsfromprettywealthyfamilies,sotheirnamesweren’tinthereleasedreport.”
“Inacasethishighprofile?”
“Evenmorereason.‘Wewillonlycooperateifwe’reassuredourpreciouschild’snamewillnotbesullied.’Theystruckconfidentialitydealsbeforethey’dtestify.Itturnsoutthattheprosecutordidn’tneedthemforcourt.Theknifediscoverywasenough.Butanyway,abartenderatalocalhangoutcalledtheLockwoodsawawholegroupofthemaleinternsthatnight.Look,ittookawhile.Wehadourbestpeopleonthis.Mostoftheinternswouldn’ttalk—heck,it’sbeenoverthirtyyears—butfromwhatweunderstand,RustyEggersandChristopherAnsondidn’tgetalong.Bothofthemsawthemselvesasalphasinthisgroupofinterns.Theywereconstantlycompeting.Accordingtothebartender,theyhadwordsthatnight.Oneoftheirbuddieshadtoseparatethem.”
“Rustyandthemurdervictim?”
“Yes.”
“Doyouknowwhoseparatedthem?”
“Oh,you’lllikethis.WeshowedthebartenderthatinternphotofromthestepsoftheCapitol.Guesswhohepickedout?”
Wildesawitnow.“DashMaynard.”
“Interesting,right?”
“SoafterDashseparatesthetwoofthem,whathappened?”
“Fromwhatwecanpiecetogether,ChristopherAnsonstormsout.He’sfirsttoleave.Thenlater—noonecansayifit’shalfanhour,anhour—butthenextpersontoleavewasRustyEggers.”
“Thepoliceknewaboutthis?”
Straussnodded.“Theirtheorywas,Ansonleftearlytobuydrugs.He’ddoneitbefore.Ansonwassomethingofthegroup’s…‘dealer’istoostrongaword.Suppliermaybe.SothepolicethinkAnsonwasdrunk.Hestumbledouttobuydrugsinabadneighborhood.Hewaswelldressed—theywerestillinsuitsandtiesfrominterning—andaneasytarget.RaymondStarkspotshimormaybeAnsongoesuptohimtobuydrugs.Eitherway,thewhitekidisaneasytarget.Raymondpullstheknifetorobhim.MaybeAnsonresists,maybenot.”
“RaymondStarkstabshim.”
“Right.Buttherearealotofflawsinthattheory.”
“Forexample?”
“Anson’sbodywasfoundinanalleyway.OurexpertattheTruthProgramexaminedthecrimescenephotos.He’sconvincedthebodywasdumpedthere.”
“SoChristopherAnsonwaskilledsomewhereelse?”
“Ourexpertsaysyes.”
“DidRaymond’slawyerbringitupattrial?”
Straussshookhishead.“Hewasprobono.Hecouldn’taffordanexpert.”
“AndIassumetheprosecutiondidn’tletanyoneknow?”
“There’sachancetheirexpertdidn’tcometothesameconclusion,butit’sprobablyclassic‘don’task,don’ttell’prosecutorialmisconduct.Idon’tthinkitwouldhavemadeadifferencetothejuryanyway.Ifithadcomeup,theprosecutionwouldjustsayRaymondstabbedAnsonsomewhereelseanddraggedhimintoanalley,sonoonewouldsee.”
Wildesatback.TheytookthenewTappanZeeBridgeacrosstheHudsonbacktoNewJersey.AtextcameinfromHester:
RolamayhavealeadonNaomi’smother.
Wildetypedareply:
Bebackinhalfanhour.
Wildesaid,“SoyouthinkRustyEggerskilledChristopherAnson?”
“Hewastherethatnight,”Straussbegan.“Theyexchangedangrywords.”
“Meaningless.”
“Onitsown?Sure.Butyearslater,ArniePoplinhearsRustyadmitkillingsomeonetoDashMaynardandworryingaboutatape.”StrausstookonehandoffthewheelandheldittowardWilde.“Andyeah,IknowArniePoplindoesn’tpourallhiscornflakesintoonebowl,butthinkaboutRustyEggers’sbehavior.HeforcestheMaynardstohireGavinChambers,maybethebestsecuritymaninthecountry,toguardthem.Why?”
“Becausethereareindeedtapes,”Wildesaid.“Liketheonejustreleased.”
“YouthinkEggershiredChambersoverthattapeofhimandKandiPate?”
“Itcouldbe.”
“Itcouldbe,”Straussrepeated,“butit’snot.Becausethereisoneotherthingweareleavingout.”
“What’sthat?”
“RustyEggersisastone-coldsociopath.Idon’tknowifhewasbornthatwayorthattruckaccidentthatkilledhisparentssenthimofftherails,butitcouldn’tbemoreobvious.He’scharmingandridiculouslysmart—buthe’sseriouslydamaged.Ifyoulookthroughhispast,therearetoomanypeoplewhogotinhiswaywhoendedupdead.”
Wildemadeaface.Strausssawitoutofthecornerofhiseye.
“What?”
“I’mnotahugefanofconspiracytheories,”Wildesaid.
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”Strausssaid.“Whatmattersis,ifRustyEggersgetselected,millionsofpeoplemaydie.Thatishowitiswithcharismaticleaderslikehim.You’reastudentofhistory.Don’tpretendyoudon’tseethedanger.”
Theydrovesomemore.
“Yousoundlikeaguywithalotofmotive,”Wildesaid.
“Todowhat?”Strausssmiled.“Kidnaptwoteenagers?”
Wildeturnedtohim.
“ItoldyouIhavesources,”Strausssaid.
“Soitseems.”
“Andyou’remissingmypoint,man.Someonereallywantsthattape.They’lldoprettymuchanything,itseems,togetit.Includingkidnappingkids.Andtheirmotivesmaynotbealtruistic.That’swhatI’mtryingtoexplaintoyou.Iftheygetitbeforewedo,theymaydestroyit.Orcoveritup.Andifthathappens,RaymondStarkstaysinjailforacrimehedidn’tcommit.That’sthemicrolevel.Onamacrolevel,maybeRustyEggersgetselected.Youaren’tblindorasblaséasyoupretend.YouknowwhatkindofdestructionRustyEggersiscapableofunleashing.”
Wildethoughtaboutthetape.HethoughtaboutRustyEggers.ButmostlyhethoughtaboutRaymondStark’sdreamofbeingfree.Howsoul-crushingitmustbe,onthecuspbeforeyouwakeup,whenyourealizeyourreleasewasjustadream,whenyouknowthewispsofhopewillsoonbegoneandyou’llbebackinthatcell.
“HowdidRaymondendupinthatwheelchair?”Wildeasked.
Strausswasabigmanwithbiggnarlyhands.Hisgriponthewheeltightened.“Inasense,it’spartofthereasonwhyAnson’sfamilywillneveracceptthatRaymonddidn’tdoit,evenifweprovetheknifewasplanted.”
Wildewaited.
“TheAnsonswantedthedeathpenalty.Therewasaquoteinthenewsaftertheverdictfromhisfather.AreporteraskedAnsonSeniorifhefeltthatjusticehadbeenserved.Hesaidno.HesaidthatRaymondStarkwillgetfreehousingandfreeclothesandthreemealsadaywhilehisbeautifulson’sdeadbodywillbeeatenbyworms.”
Strausstookashakinghandoffthewheelandrubbedhischin.Hiseyesstartedblinking.“Raymondwasinfourmonthswhensomeguysgrabbedhimintheshower.Theylaidhimonhisstomachonthetile.Twoguysgrabbedhisarmsandpulled.Twoguysgrabbedhislegsandpulled.Likehewasonamedievalrack.AnotherguyheldRaymond’sfacedown,sothathisnosewaspressedagainsttheceramic.Theyheldhimandtheypulledhislimbs.Hard.Andthenanotherguy,abigguy,Raymondsaid,weighedoverthreehundredpounds,cameoverandsaid,‘ThisisfromtheAnsonfamily.’”
Strauss’sbreathingwashitchingnow.Wildesatnexttohim,almostafraidtomove.
“Thebigguyisstillstanding.HestraddlesRaymond’sstretched-outbody.Thenhejumpsupintheair,likehe’scomingfromthetopropeatawrestlingmatch.That’showRaymonddescribedit.Theothermenpullhislegsandarmsevenharder,totallytaut,painful,andthisbigguy’sfullweightslamsintoRaymond’slowerbacklikeasledgehammer.Raymondhearshisspinesnap,hesaid,likeastrongwindwhippingadrybranchoffanoldoak.”
Silence.Asilencesodeep,sopure,thatitpushedagainstthewindowsofthecar.Asilencethatsmotheredyou,thatdidn’tletyoutakeabreath.Asilencethatfeltlikeascream.
“Saul?”
“Yes?”
“Twohundredyardsonyourright.There’saspottopullover.I’llgetoutthere.”
***
Wildeneededthetimeintheforest.
Itwouldn’tbelong.HehadtogetbacktotheMaynards.Butthatrain-grayvisittoSingSingandthenight-blackstoryofhowRaymond’sspinesnappedmadeWildefeelthatwallsbothliteralandfigurativewerestartingtocloseinonhim.Hedidn’tknowwhetherhesufferedfromsomeformofclaustrophobia—hedoubteditwassevereenoughtobelabeledadisorder—butWildeknewthatheneededthewoods.Whenhewasawayfromthesetreesfortoolong,hefeltasthoughhewassuffocating,asthoughhislungswerereadytocompletelyshutdown.
“Imaginebeinginaplacelikethiseveryday,screamingoutthetrutheverywayyouknowhow,butnooneeverhearsyou…”
Wildeclosedhiseyesandgulpeddowndeepbreaths.
BythetimehereachedMaynardManor,hefeltstronger,morehimself.Hester’sEscaladewasparkedbythegate.Tim,herdriver,openedthereardoor,andHestergotout.
Shepointedtohim.“Whatthehellhappenedtoyou?”
“What?”
“Youlooklikeakittensomeoneleftinadryer.”
Somuchforstronger,morehimself.
“I’mfine.”
“Yousure?”
“I’msure.”
“RolafoundNaomi’smother.She’sagreedtoseeme.”
“When?”
“IfIwanttotalktohertoday,Ihavetoleavenow.She’sbackinNewYork.”
“Go,”Wildesaid,“Icanhandlehere.”
“Tellmewhereyouwerefirst.SoIknowwhyyoulooklikehell.”
HegavehertheheavilyabridgedversionofhistripwithSaulStrausstoSingSing.Turnedouttheabridgedwasmorethanenough.Hester’sfacedarkenedtoadeepscarlet.Herfiststightened.WithallthedistractionofCrashandNaomi,WildehadalmostforgottenthatHesterCrimsteinwasoneofthemostfamedanddoggedcriminaldefenseattorneysinthecountry.Nothingupsethermorethanprosecutorialoverreach.
“Thosebastards,”Hestersaid.
“Who?”
“Cops,prosecutors,judges—takeyourpick.Railroadinganinnocentmanlikethat.AndnowtheyknowthisKindlerguywascrookedandtheystillhavethismanlockedup?Disgraceful.DoyouhaveSaul’snumber?”
“Ido.”
“TellhimI’lltakeRaymond’scaseprobono.”
“Youdon’tevenknowallthedetails.”
“Seethis?”Hestertappedwithherfinger.
“Yournose?”
“Exactly.Thenoseknows.Thiscasestinkslikethethirty-year-oldgarbageitis.TellStraussI’llmakesomecallsandkicksomeass.Tellhim.”
“Onemorething,”Wildesaid.“DoyouknowanyoneatSingSing?”
“Like?”
“Likesomeonewhocanletmeseethevisitorslog.”
Shestartedbacktowardthecar.“Textmethedetails,dollface.I’llgetonit.”
Timalreadyhadthedooropen.Hesterclimbedbackin.TimgaveWildeasmallnod,gotinthecar,anddroveaway.
Wildetrekkedupthehill.Rolahadthewholeteamherenow—allwomenwithhardeyes.
“TheMaynardsknowI’mback?”heasked.
Rolanodded.
Therewasstillahalfhouruntilnoon.Noreasontogoinsideyet.IftheMaynardsneededhim,they’dknowwheretolook.Heheadedbacktowardthepathinthewoods,theonethatledtowhereMatthewhadfirstsneakedawaywithNaomi.Hecouldn’tsaywhyhecamehere.Mostly,hesupposed,becausehecravedpeaceandquietandtheoutdoors.Theoutdoorsmorethananythingelse.Hedidn’twanttobeinsidethatdamnedlibraryanylongerthanhehadto.
Hecheckedhisphoneandwassurprisedtoseeamessagefromthegenealogywebsite.Themessagecamefrom“PB,”thepersonwho’dbeenlistedashis“closest”relative.Hedebatedjustdeletingitoratleastleavingitunopenedfornow.Itwasprobablynothing.Genealogywasabighobbyformany,connectingina“funandsocialway,”asthewebsiteputit,maybeaskingquestionssothatyoucanfillinemptybranchesonyourfamilytree.
Wildehadnointerestindoingthat.Thenagain,rudenessandwillfulignoranceweren’thisstyleeither.Neitherwasprocrastination.
HehitthemessagelinkandreadPB’smessage:
Hi.Sorryaboutnotgivingmyname,buttherearereasonsIdon’tfeelcomfortablelettingpeopleknowmyrealidentity.Mybackgroundhastoomanyholesinitandalotofturmoil.YouaretheclosestrelativeI’vefoundonthissite,andIwonderwhetheryouhaveholesandturmoiltoo.Ifyoudo,Imayhavesomeanswers.
Wildereadthemessagetwice,thenathirdtime.
Holesandturmoil.Hedidn’tneedthatrightnoweither.
Wildeputawaythephone.Thenhelookedup,pastthebranchesstretchingtothedeepblueofthesky.HisthoughtsturnedtoRaymondStark.When,hewondered,hadRaymondlastbeenoutsidelikethis?Whenhadhelastbeensurroundedbygreenandblueinsteadofinstitutionalgray?Wildereachedintohisbackpocket.HeunfoldedthephotographoftheCapitolHillinternsSaulStrausshadgivenhim.Hesearchedthefacesagain,findingRustyEggers,thenDash,thenDelia.
Thehellwithit.
HehurriedbackintotheMaynards’sideyard.Hetookthestepstwoatatimeandburstintothelibrary.DashMaynardwasstaringatthecomputerscreen,asthoughitweresomecrystalballthatmighttellhimthefuture.Deliapaced.
“We’regladyou’reback,”shesaid.
Hecrossedtheroom.“Doyourecognizethisphotograph?”
Wildehelditupsobothcouldseeit.Hewantedtoseeifthey’dreact.Theydid—recoilinglikevampiresnearacross.
Dashsnapped,“Whydoyouhavethat?”
WildepointedtoChristopherAnson.“Doyourecognizehim?”
“Whatthehellisthis?”
“HisnamewasChristopherAnson.”
“Weknow,”Deliasaid.“Butwhatthehell,Wilde.We’rewaitingforawordfromourson’skidnapper.Don’tyougetthat?”
Wildesawnoreasontoreply.
“Whyareyouraisingthisnow?”
“Becausewhoeverhasyoursonclearlywantsaverydamagingtape.”
“Whichwegavethem,”Dashsaid.
“ArniePoplinsaidheoverheardyouandRustyEggerstalkingaboutamurder.”
“ArniePoplinisalunatic,”Dashsaidwithadismissivewave.
Deliaadded,“Youcan’tpossiblythinkwehadsomethingtodowithwhathappenedtoChristopher.”
“Maybenotyoutwo,”Wildesaid.
“Rusty?”Deliashookherhead.“No.”
“Youdon’tgethowunreliableArniePoplinis,”Dashsaid.“Whenwefiredhimfromtheshow,hegrewresentful.Youmixhiscrazywiththedrugsandthebitterness—”
“Idon’tunderstand,”Deliainterrupted.“Whogaveyouthatphotograph?”
“RaymondStark.”
Silence.
Wildewaited.Hewantedtoseewhethereitherofthemwouldgosofarastopretendthattheydidn’trecognizethename.Theydidn’t.
Afterawhile,Dashsaid,“OhmyGod.”
“What?”
“IsthatwhatRaymondStarkissaying?Isthatwhathe’stryingtopullnowtogetoutofjail?”
Delialookedatherhusband.“Couldhebebehindallthis?”
“What?”
“RaymondStark,”Dashsaid,turningbacktoWilde.“Maybesomeconvicthemetinprisonisdoinghimafavor.Theykidnapoursonandclaimit’srelatedtothekillingofChristopher.Theydemandsometapethatwillprovehisinnocence.”
“Maybe,”Deliajoinedin,“RaymondStarktoldsomeonethestoryandtheyareactingontheirown.”
“Wilde,”Dashsaid,turningtohim,“howdidRaymondStarkreachouttoyou?”
Thatwaswhentheyheardthedingonthecomputer.
Itwasnoon.
Deliarefreshedthepageandamessagecameup.
YoucanfindCrashat41°07’17.5″N74°12’35.0″W.
Wildefelthismouthgodry.
Deliapointedatthescreen.“Arethose—?”
“Coordinates,”Wildesaidwithanod.
Butnotjustanycoordinates.
Someonewasseriouslyfuckingwithhim.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Deliasaid.“Whereisthat?”
Wildedidn’tevenhavetobringupthemapapponhisphone.Heknewwherethecoordinateswouldlead.“It’sinthewoods,aboutthreemilesfromhere,upneartheRamapoughs.It’llbefastestifIhikeit.GivethecoordinatestoRola.Tellhertogetacarandmeetmethere.”
Hedidn’texplainmore.Hejusttookoff,downthesteps,outthedoor,intothestickyair.Sweatbrokeoutonhisfacefirst.WouldCrashreallybethere?Inmanyways,itwasagreatdrop-offspot—remote,awayfromanyroadsorcameras,deepenoughintheforest.
Butwhythoseparticularcoordinates?
BecausesomeonewantedtoseriouslymesswithWilde’shead.
Withoutbreakingstride,hestuckanAirPodintohisearandcalledHester.Whensheanswered,hesaid,“Thekidnapperssentcoordinatesforty-onedegrees,oh-seven—”
“SpeakEnglish,Wilde.”
“It’saremotespotintheRamapoughMountains.Bytheoldburialsite.”
“Wait.Areyousaying—?”
“It’stheexactlocationwherethepolicefoundmewhenIwasakid.”
“Holymoly,”Hestersaid.“Whowouldknowaboutthat?”
“Thespecificcoordinates?Thecops,maybethepress,Idon’tknow.It’snotasecret.”
“Butit’snotacoincidenceeither.”
“No,it’snotacoincidence.”
“Whereareyou?”Hesterasked.“Yousoundwinded.”
“I’mrunningtherenow.I’llcallyouback.”
Wildeknewtheroute,ofcourse.HeknewitwouldtakeRolaandwhoevershebroughtlongertodrivebecausetherewasnoimmediateroadaccess.Youhadtohikemorethanamileofftheroadtofindthespot.
Sowhythere?
Wildewasstartingtogetitnow,startingtomaybepiecetogetherwhatthehellwasgoingon.They’dhopetoseedconfusionandchaos.Butmaybeforthefirsttime,Wildewasseeingthingsclearly.
Hedodgedtotheleft,duckedunderbranches,triednottobreakstride.Decadesago,whentheparkrangersandlocalpolicesurroundedhim,he’dbeenusingaColemandometentandanEddieBauersleepingbaghe’dstolenfromahouseinRingwood.Hedidn’trememberhowlongthatparticularcampingsite,farawayfromanyhikingtrails,hadbeenhishome,butwhenhesawthemcomingforhim,youngWilde—whathadhecalledhimselfbackthen?Hedidn’tevenknowhisowndamnedname—hadbeentemptedtorunforit.Hehaddonethatbefore,ofcourse,wheneveranyonespottedhimorgotclose.
Why?
Whyhadhealwaysfled?Wasitsomekindofprimitivesurvivalinstinct?Wasman’sbasicnaturetofearratherthanengagewithotherhumans?Heoftenwondered.Why,asayoungchild,hadhisinstinctbeentorun?Wasthatgenetic,humannature—orhadsomethinghappenedthatmadehimthatway?
Butonthatbriskearlymorning,withyoungWildeinhistentandfourofficersandrangerssurroundinghim,hechosenottorun.Perhapsbecauseherealizedthatitwouldbefutile.PerhapsbecauseoneofthemwasOrenCarmichaelandevenbackthen,Orenhadacalming,trustworthy,safeaura.
Three,maybefourminutesuntilWildereachedthecoordinates.
HewasnorthoftheforestareacalledtheBowl,amileorsofromtheNewJersey–NewYorkstateborder.Onthesurface,thisrendezvoushadalltheearmarksofanambush.Wildedebatedslowingdown,takingsomeextraprecautionsnowthathewasgettingnearby.Unlesstheywereverygood,he’dspotthemwithafairlyquickreconnaissance.Iftheywereprosorsnipersintrees,thenhisadvancedscoutingwouldn’tdoanygood.Theycouldsimplytakehimoutwhenevertheywanted.
Therewouldbenoreasonforthesedramatics.
Sono,thiswasn’tanambush.Thiswasadistraction.
Thewoodsgrewthickernow,makingithardertosee.Evenasachild,Wildehadknownnottomakecampinclearingsbecausehe’dbetooeasytospot.Mostnightshe’dsurroundhistentwithtwigsorevenoldnewspapers.Ifsomeone(ormorelikely,someanimal)cameclose,thesoundsemanatingfromthosetwigsandpaperswouldwarnhim.Wildewasalightsleeper,probablybecausehespentmostnightsasachildhalflisteningforpredators.Evennow,whilemostpeopleplungeddeepintoslumber,Wildebarelydidmorethanskimthesurface.
Ahundredyardsnow.
Hespottedsomethingred.
Notaperson.Afewsecondslater,ashehurriedcloser,hecouldseethattheredthingwasfairlysmall—maybeafoothighbyafootlong.
Itwas,hesawnow,acarrycooler,thekindthatholdsasix-packandacoupleofsandwiches.
Wildefeltthehairsonthebackofhisneckrise.
Hecouldn’tsaywhy.Itwasjustacooler.Butinstinctisafunnything.
Heranoverandflippeddownthehandle.Thenheopenedthetopofthecoolerandlookedinside.
Wildehadbracedhimself.Butnotenough.Still,hedidn’tscream.Hedidn’tcallout.
Hejuststareddownattheseveredfingerwiththesmile-skullring.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
Naomi’smother,Pia,livedinanornatefour-storyRenaissanceRevivaltownhouseoffParkAvenueinManhattan.AwomaninablackFrenchmaid’suniformopenedthedoorandledHesterovertheherringboneparquetfloor,pasttheoak-paneledwallsandtheintricatelysculpturedstaircase,andoutbackintoalushcourtyardgarden.
Piasatinachaise.Sheworesunglasses,abeigebeachhat,andanaquablouseopenatthetop.Shedidn’trisewhenHestercameout.Shedidn’teventurnandlookather.
“Idon’tunderstandwhyyoukeephoundingme.”
Hervoicewashigh-pitchedandshaky.Hesterdidn’twaittobeasked.ShepulledafreechairnexttoPiaandsatascloseasshecould.Shewantedtogetinthewoman’sspacealittle.
“Niceplace,”Hestersaid.
“Thankyou.Whatdoyouwant,Ms.Crimstein?”
“I’mtryingtolocateyourdaughter.”
“Yourassistantmentionedthat.”
“Andyourefusedtotalktoheraboutit.”
“Thisisthesecondtimeyoucalled,”Piasaid.
“Correct.Thefirsttimeyoucooperated.Youtoldmethatyoudidn’tknowanything.Sowhythechange?”
“Ifeltenoughwasenough.”
“Yeah,Pia,I’mnotbuyingthat.”
Withthedarksunglassesitwasimpossibletoknowwherethewomanwaslooking,butshewasn’tfacingHester.TheformerMrs.Pinewas,nodoubtaboutit,astunningwoman.HesterknewthatPiahadbeensomekindofbathingsuitmodelbackinherday,butthatdaywasreallynotthatlongago.
“She’snotmydaughter,youknow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Iterminatedallmyparentalrights.You’reanattorney.Youknowwhatthatmeans.”
“Why?”
“Whywhat?”
“Whydidyouterminateallparentalrights?”
“Youknowthatshe’sadopted.”
“Naomi,”Hestersaid.
“What?”
“Youkeepcallingher‘she.’Yourdaughterhasaname.It’sNaomi.Andwhocaresifshewasadoptedornot?Whatdoesthathavetodowithit?”
“Ireallycan’thelpyou,Ms.Crimstein.”
“HasNaomibeenincontactwithyou?”
“I’drathernotsay.”
“Didyouvoluntarilyterminateyourparentalrights—orweretheytakenawayfromyou?”
Piastilllookedoff,butasmallsmilecametoherface.“Itwasvoluntary.”
“Becauseyouwouldhavebeenbroughtuponcharges?”
“Ah,”Piasaid,withasmallnod,“youspoketoBernard.”
“Youshouldbeinjail.”
Frombehindthem:“Mrs.Goldman?”
Itwasayoungwomanwithastroller.
“It’stimetotakeNathanforhiswalkinthepark.”
Piaturnedtowardthewoman.Herfacebrokeintoawidesmile.“Youstart,Angie.I’llcatchuptoyoubytheConservatoryWater.”
Theyoungwomanpulledthestrollerawayandleft.
Hestertriedtokeepthehorroroutofhervoice.“Youhaveason?”
“Nathan.He’stenmonthsold.Andyes,he’sbiologicallymineandmyhusband’s.”
“Ithoughtyoucouldn’thavechildren.”
“That’swhatIthought.Butofcourse,that’swhatBernardtoldme.Turnsouttheproblemswerewithhim.”Shetiltedherhead.“Ms.Crimstein?”
Hesterwaited.
“Ineverabusedher.”
“Naomi,”Hestersaid.“HernameisNaomi.”
“Bernardmadethatallup.He’saliarandworse.Ishouldhaveknownwhathewasrightaway.Isn’tthatwhattheysay?ButIdidn’t.OrmaybeI’mweak.Bernardabusedme—verbally,emotionally,physically.”
“Didyoutellanyone?”
“Yousoundskeptical.”
“Don’tworryabouthowIsound,”Hestersaid,alittlemoresharplythansheintended.“Didyoutellanyone?”
“No.”
“Whynot?”
“Doyoureallyneedtohearanotherabused-womantale,Ms.Crimstein?”Piasmiledandtiltedherhead,andHesterwonderedhowmanymenhadbeensmittenbythatsimplemove.“Bernardcanbeverycharming,veryconvincing.He’salsoextremelymanipulative.Didhetellyouthehot-waterstory?That’shisfavorite.Ofcourse,ifithadbeentrue,she”—thistime,Piastoppedherself—“Imean,Naomiwouldhavegonetothehospital,wouldn’tshe?”
Fairpoint,Hesterthought.
“Idon’twanttogiveyoumywholelifestory.Icamefromasmalltown.Iwas…Iguessthewordis‘blessed’withafigurethatdrewtoomuchattention.EveryonetoldmeIshouldbeamodel.SoItriedit.Intruth,Iwastooshorttomakeitbig.Ialsowasn’tanorexicenough.ButIgotsomejobs,mostlyinlingerieads.AndthenIfellforthewrongman.Bernardwasgoodtomeatfirst,butthenhisinsecuritiesatehimalive.HewassureIhadtobecheatingonhim.I’dcomefromashootandhe’daskamillionquestions—didanymentalktoyou,didanyoneflirtwithyou,comeon,someonehadtohaveflirtedwithyou,didyousmileatthemfirst,didyouleadthemon,whywereyoulate?”
Piastopped,tookhersunglassesoff,wipedhereyes.
“Soyouleft?”Hesterasked.
“Yes,Ileft.Ihadnochoice.Igothelp.Alotofit.WhenIwasbackonmyfeetalittle,ImetHarry,myhusband.Youknowtherestofthestory.”
Hestermadehervoiceasgentleaspossible.“HasNaomibeenintouchwithyou?”
“Whydoyoucare?”
“It’salongstory,butIwillneverbetrayNaomi.Doyouhearme?Whateveryoutellme,youcantrustmetodowhateverIcantohelp.”
“ButifItellyou,”Piasaid,“I’dbebetrayingNaomi’strusttoo.”
“Youcantrustme.”
“DoyouworkforBernard?”
“No.”
“Swear?”
“Icareaboutyourdaughter,notyourex-husband.Yes,Iswear.”
Piaslippedthesunglassesbackontoherface.“Naomicalledme.”
“When?”
“Afewdaysago.”
“Whatdidshesay?”
“ShesaidsomeoneworkingforBernardmightcallmeagainaskingforher.Likeyoudidlasttime.Shesaidnottosayanything.”
“Whywouldshesaythat?”
“Ithink…Ithinksheplannedonrunningawayfromherfather.Shethoughtthatmaybeifpeoplethoughtshewaswithme,itwouldthrowhimoffthescent.”
“Andyouwereokaywiththat?Withherrunningaway?”
“Iwashappyaboutit.Sheneededtoescapefromhim.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”Hestersaid.“Yousayhe’sabusive.Yourex,Imean.”
“Youhavenoidea.”
“Andyet,”Hestersaid,tryingtokeephervoiceeven,“youleftyourdaughterwithhim?”
Shetookoffthesunglassesagain.“I’vegonethroughalotoftherapy.Youhavenoideahowmuch,howweakIwas,howtroubled.TherewasnothingIcouldhavedone.AndtherewasahardtruthIhadtoface,Ms.Crimstein—inorderformetorecoverandhealandmoveon.”
“Whathardtruthisthat?”
“Bernardwasrightaboutonething.Ididn’twanttoadoptherinthefirstplace.Thehardtruthis—andittookmealongtimetoforgivemyselfforthis—Icouldn’tconnecttoNaomi.Maybeitwasbecauseshewasn’tmyblood.Maybeatthetime,Ijustwasn’tcutouttobeamother.Maybeitwasmychemistryphysicallyreactingtohersorthebadsituationwithherfather.Idon’tknow.ButIcouldneverreallyconnectwiththegirl.”
ThebileroseinHester’sthroat.Sheswalloweditbackdown.“SoyoujustleftNaomiwithhim.”
“Ihadnochoice.Youhavetoseethat.”
Hesterpulledbackherchairandstood.“IfyouhearfromNaomi,havehercallmeimmediately.”
“Ms.Crimstein?”
Hesterlookeddownather.
“Whodoyoubelieve?”
“YoumeanyouorBernard?”
“Yes.”
“Doesitmakeadifference?”
“Ithinkitdoes,yes.”
“Idon’t,”Hestersaid.“Youeitherabusedyourdaughteroryouselfishlyleftherbehind.Eitherway,youabandonedalittlegirltoamanyoujustdescribedasamonster.Evenwhenyou‘recovered’and‘healed,’evenwhenyougotmarriedandmovedintothisritzytownhouse,youjustleftthatpoorgirlalonewithadamagedman.Youdidn’tprotecther.Youdidn’tthinkabouther.Youjustranaway,Pia—andyouleftNaomibehind.”
Piakeptherheaddown,hereyesonthetable.
“Sointheend,Idon’tcareifhe’slyingoryouare.Youarescumeitherway,andIhopeyouneverhaveamoment’speace.”
***
WhenDashandDeliaMaynardsawtheirson’sseveredfinger,theyreactedintwoverydifferentways.
Dashdroppedtotheground,totallycollapsed,likeamarionettewithallitsstringscutatthesametime.HisfallwassosuddenthatWildejumpedbackastep,carefulnottojarthefingerfromitsperchatoptheicepack.Notthatthejarringwouldhaveanyeffect.Ifthatwasthecase,thefactthatWildehadjustrushedbackfromthatspotinthewoods,moresprintingthanjogging,wouldsurelyhavebeentheculprit.
Deliafroze.Forafewmoments,shedidn’tmove,didn’tevenreacttoherhusband’sfall.Shejuststareddownatthefinger.Slowly,almostimperceptibly,herfacebegantocave.Herheadfelltooneside.Herlipsquivered,hereyesblinked.Shereachedouttowardthefinger,amotherwantingtooffersomekindofcomfort.Wildepulledthecoolerback,notwantinghertotouchorcontaminateit.
“TheEMTswillbearrivingsoon,”Wildetoldherasgentlyashecould.Heglancedatthegatebehindhim.“They’lldotheirbesttopreserveit.”
Whenheclosedthecooler,Delialetoutamoan.WildehandedthecoolertoRolaandnodded.Shetookitoutsidethegatefortheambulance.Therewas,Rolahadalreadylearned,adecentchancethatthefingercouldbereattachediftheyranthepropermedicalprotocols.
Onthegrass,Dashpushedupwithhisarmsandmadehiswaytohisknees.
Deliafinallyspoke.“Whatdotheywant?Whatdotheywant?”Hervoicestartedoffinpuremonotone,butslowlygrewlouder,morefrenzied.“Wegavethemthetapes.Whatdotheywantfromus?Whatdotheywant?”
Therewasaping.
Ittookthemallasecondtoreacttoit,butthenDash,hiseyesdoingthethousand-yardstare,reachedintohispocketandpulledouthisphone.Hishandshook.
“Whatisit?”Deliaasked.
Dashreadit,gottohisfeet,andhandedhiswifethephone.Wildemovedclosetoreadoverhershoulder.
Sendthetapewewantinthenextthirtyminutesorwewillsendthecoordinatesforyourson’sentirearm.Ifyoucontactthepolice,hewilldieinterriblepain.
“Whattape?”Deliashouted.“Thereisnotape.Wedon’thave…”
Dashstartedhurryingupthedrivetowardthehouse.
“Dash?”shecalledtohim.
Hedidn’treply.
“Dash?”
Sheranbehindhim.
“OhGod,whatdidyoudo?”
Dashstillwouldn’tspeak,buttearsstreameddownhisface.
“Dash?”
“I’msorry,”hesaid.
“Whatdidyoudo,Dash?”
“Ididn’tthinkhewasreallyindanger.Ididn’t…”
Hebrokeintoafullsprint.Deliacalledouttohim,buthedidn’trespond.Shecontinuedtogivechase.Wilde,hisshirtalreadycoatedwithsweat,followedthemastheyenteredthroughthesidedooranduptheturretintothelibrary.Dashhurriedupthestairs.Hemovedbehindhisdeskandstartedtypingonthelaptop.
“Talktome,”Deliasaid.
Dashglancedup.HespottedWildeandsaid,“Getoutofhere.”
“No.”
“Isaid—”
“Iheardyou,”Wildesaid.“Butthat’snotgoingtohappen.”
“You’refired.”
“Cool.”
Wildedidn’tmove.
“Youhavenorighttobehere.”
“Thenthrowmeout,”Wildesaid.
“Dash,”Deliasaid,“tellme.Please?”
“Notinfrontofhim.”
“Yeah,Dash,”Wildesaid,“infrontofme.Stopwastingtime.”
Deliamovedclosertoherhusbandandputherhandsonhisface.“Baby,lookatme,”shesaid,turninghisfacetohers.Thegesturewassurprisinglytender.“Tellme,Dash.Please?Tellmenow.”
Dashswallowed,thetearsbacknow.“Hedidit.Hekilledhim.”
“Whatareyoutalking—?”
“RustykilledChristopher.”
Herhandssliddownoffhisfaceassheshookherhead.“Idon’tunderstand.”
“Thatnight,”Dashsaid.“We’dallbeendrinkingattheLockwood.RustyandChristopher,youknowhowtheywere.Thetwoofthemalmostcametoblows.Ibrokeitup.Christopherstormedout.ThenIgotacallat,Idon’tknow,oneinthemorning.ItwasRustyinapanic.Hebeggedmetocomeover.Icouldtellfromhisvoicethatitwasbad.SoIwentand,well,youknowme.”
Delia’svoicewasfaraway.“Youtapedit.”
“It’swhatIdo.Youknowthat.”
“Whichcamera?”
“Whydoyou—?”
“Whichcamera,Dash?”
“Thehiddenpocketone.”
Deliaclosedhereyes.
Wildetookouthisphoneandcheckedtheapp.Itwasallcomingtogethernow.
“YouwereinPhiladelphiathatnight,”Dashsaidtoher,“researchingsomeprojectforthatcongressionalsubcommittee.WhenIgotthere…”
Hestopped.
“What?”Deliasaid.
Dashseemedunabletospeaknow.HeflippedthecomputerscreenaroundsoitwasfacingDeliaandWilde.Hepressedtheplaybuttonandcollapsedback.
Forafewseconds,thescreenremainedagrainyblack.Thenadoorflewopen,andayoungRustyEggerswasthere.Judgingbytheheight,thecameramusthavebeenplacedsomewherenearDash’sbreastpocket.Theviewwasgrainyandsomewhatdistorted,likeafish-eye,likewatchingthewholethingthroughapeephole.
SeveralthingsstruckWildeallatonce.First,theobvious:Rustylookedsodamnyoung.Hewasprobablyaroundtwentyyearsoldhere,andforsomereason,eventhoughhehadn’tagedpoorlyoranything,theeffectofseeingRustyEggersatthisagewasstrange,likesomekindof“beforeitallwentwrong”picture.
Thesecondthingwas,Rustyseemedremarkablycalmandcontrolled.Foramoment,hisgazeturneddirectlytothelens,almostasthoughheknewitwasthere.
Third:Hissmilewasbroad.Toobroad.
“Thanksforcoming,”Rustysaid.
“Yousaiditwasurgent?”
ThevoiceofyoungDash.
“Yeah,comein.”
Rustymovedtotheside,outofsight.ThecameratooktwostepsforwardasDashentered.Therewasthesoundofaboltslide.WildefiguredthatRustyhadjustlockedthedoorbehindthem.
“What’sgoingon?”Dashasked.
Rustysteppedbackintoview.“Ireallyappreciateyoucoming.”
“Whatthe…?”Dashsuddenlysoundedterrified.“Isthatbloodonyourhand?”
Withthebroadsmilestillplasteredtohisface,Rustyreachedtowardthelenswithanopenhandcoveredwithblood.
“Rusty?”
Thehandmovednorthofthecameralens,grabbedwhatmusthavebeenDash’sshoulder,andjerkedhimforward.
“Whatthehell,Rusty!Letgoofme.”
Hedidn’t.RustydraggedDashforward.Thepictureonthescreenlurched.Thebreast-pocketviewpointcombinedwiththefish-eyequalityofthelensmadeitdifficulttokeeptrackofwhatwashappeningwhentherewasmovement.Lotsofthingswereablurforthenextfewseconds.Wildespottedabookshelfmaybe.Arug.Somewallhangings.
Themovementsloweddownabit.Atilefloor.Astove,fridge.
Thekitchen.
WilderiskedaglanceatDelia.Shestaredatthescreentransfixed.
Thenonthescreen,WildeheardDashletoutasharpgasp.
Rustymovedclosetohim,blockingthecameraforamoment.Hewhispered,probablyinDash’sear,“Don’tscream.”
ThenRustyletDashgoandtookastepback.Thecamerapanneddowntothetilefloor,swungalittletotheright,andstoppedcold.
There,lyingonhisbackinapoolofblood,eyesopenandunblinking,wasChristopherAnson.Forafewseconds,thecameradidn’tmove,didn’tjerk,didn’tshake.ItwasalmostasthoughDashcouldn’tevenbreathe.
ThenDashsaidinahushed,horrifiedtone,“OhmyGod.”
“Itwasself-defense,Dash.”
“OhmyGod.”
“Christopherbrokein,”Rustysaid.Histonewaslowandsereneinawaythatchilledtheroommorethanthescariestofscreams.“Ihadnochoice,Dash.Dash?Doyouhearme?”
ThecameraveeredawayfromthedeadbodyandbacktoRusty,thefish-eyelensmakinghisfacelookhuge.Therewasstillahintofasmile,butRusty’sdistortedeyeswereblackandcold.
“Christopherbrokein,”Rustysaidagain,asthoughhewereexplainingthesituationtoasmallchild.Therewasnomaniainhistone.Noemotion,nopanic,nocrazy.“Ithinkhewashighondrugs,Dash.That’smyguess.Heprobablyboughtthemafterheleftthebar.YousawhowangryChristopherwas,right?”
Dashdidn’tormaybecouldn’tanswer.Rustymovedcloser.WhenRustyspokeagain,hisvoice—stillcalm,stillintotalcontrol—hadjustabitmorebite:
“Yousawthat,right?”
“Uh,yeah,Iguess.”
“Youguess?”
“Imean,yeah,Idid,ofcourse.”Then:“Weneedtocallthepolice,Rusty.”
“Ohno,that’snotgoingtohappen.”
“What?”
“Ikilledhim.”
“You…yousaiditwas—”
“Self-defense,yes.Butwho’sgoingtobelieveme,Dash—meagainsttheAnsonfamilyandtheirconnections?”Rusty’sfacegrewlargerashemovedclosertoDash’schest.Hisvoicewasagainawhisper.“Noone.”
“But…Imean,wehavetocallthepolice.”
“No,wedon’t.”
“Idon’tunderstand.”
Rustysteppedback.“Dash,listentome.”
Thecameramovedalittletotheleft.Casually,almosttoononchalantly,Rustystartedtoraisehisrighthand.Dashcriedout.Hestartledback,sothateverythingwasablur.Afewsecondslater,thelensregainedfocus.
NowWildecouldseewhatwasinRusty’shand.
Aknifestillwetwithblood.
Dash:“Rusty…”
“Ineedyourhelp,myfriend.”
“I…IthinkIshouldleave.”
“No,Dash,youcan’tdothat.”
“Please…”
“You’remyfriend.”Rustysmiledagain.“You’retheonlyoneIcantrust.Butifyoudon’twanttohelpme”—Rustyturnedhisgazetotheknifeinhishand,notovertlythreatening,notevenpointingitatDash—“Idon’tknowwhattodo.”
Silence.
Rustydroppedtheknifehandtohisside.“Dash?”
“Yes.”
“You’llhelpme?”
“Yeah,”Dashsaid.“I’llhelp.”
Thatwaswherethetapecutout.
Forafewmoments,DeliaandWildejuststoodthereandstaredattheblankscreen.Noonemoved.Inthedistance,Wildeheardaclockchime.Helookedaroundattheopulenceofthegreatlibrary,butopulenceisafalsefacade.Itdoesn’treallyprotectorevenenhance.Itjustfoolsyouintofeelingsafe.
Dashhadhisheadinhishands.Herubbedhisface.
“Soyoutellme,”Dashsaid.“SupposeIsaidnotohim?”
Deliaputashakinghandtohermouth,asthoughmufflingherownscream.
“Delia?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Listentome,please.YouknowRusty.YouknowwhathewouldhavedonetomeifIhadtriedtowalkaway.”
Deliaclosedhereyes,wishingitallaway.
“Sowhatdidyoudo?”Wildeasked.
DashturnedhisgazetowardWilde.“Ihadacar.Rustydidn’t.That’swhyhechoseme,Iguess.WemovedChristopher’sbodyintomytrunkanddumpedhiminthatalley.ThenRustywipedhisfingerprintsofftheknifeandthrewitinthedumpster.Wefiguredthepolicewouldthinkitwasadrugdealorrobberygonewrong.Ihopedmaybelater,Idon’tknow,IwouldfeelsafeandthenmaybeIcouldsendthetapeintothepolice.Butofcourse,myvoiceisalsoonit.Andwhenyouwatchit,Rustydidn’treallythreatenme,didhe?”
Deliafinallyfoundhervoice.“Rustychoseyou,”shesaid,“becauseyou’reweak.”
Dashblinked,hiseyeswet.
Delialookeddownathim.“Soyoujustkeptthetape?”
“Yes.”
“Andatsomepoint,youtoldRustyyouhadit?”
Dashnodded.“Asaninsurancepolicy.Iwastheonlyonewhoknewwhathe’ddone.ButImadeitclearifsomethinghappenedtome—”
“Thetapewouldcomeout.”
“Yes.Itbondedusinanoddway.”
“Andyounevertoldme,”Deliasaid.“Alltheseyearstogether.Allthatweshared,andyounevertoldme.”
“Itwaspartoftheunderstanding.”
“Webrokeuprightafterthat,”Deliasaid.“Rustyandme.”
Dashsaidnothing.
“Wasthatpartofthedeal,Dash?”
“Heisaterribleman.Ijustwantedyoutobesafe.”
Sheglaredathim.
“Delia?”
Hervoicewaspureice.“Sendthemthetape,Dash.Myson’slifeisinjeopardy.Sendthegoddamntaperightnow.”
WildewaiteduntilDashclickedthebutton.Afteritwasdone,Dashsatbackinhischair,spent.Deliastoodnexttohim.Shedidn’tmove.Shedidn’tputherhandonhisshoulder.Shedidn’tlookathim.Someonehadjustdetonatedabombinthisroom,leavingthesetwopeopleinrubbleandruinsthatwouldbeimpossibletorebuild.
Theywereshatteredandwouldneverbemadewhole.
Noreasontowatchit.
Wildeturnedandleft.Theydidn’taskwherehewasgoing,ormaybetheycouldn’tspeak.Itdidn’tmatter.Hewouldn’treply.Notyetanyway.He’dheardallheneededtohearfromthem.
Hethoughtthatmaybehehadtheanswersnow.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
RoladrovehimintheHondaOdyssey.Therewerethreecarseatsintheback.Fivepinksippycupswithscrewed-onlidsandsidehandleswereonthefloorbyhisfeet.CheeriosandGoldfishcrackerswerescatteredeverywhere.Theclothseatsfeltasthoughthey’dbeencoatedinpancakesyrup.
Rolasmiled.“Themessisfreakingyouout,right?”
“I’mfine,”Wildemanaged.
“Sureyouare.Wanttotellmewherewe’reheaded?”
“Justkeepheadingnorthon87.”
Wildehaddebateddrivinghimself,buthemightneedsomeoneforavarietyofreasons,nottheleastofwhichwasthatWildewasn’taverygooddriver.Hecoulddothelocalroads,butbiginterstatesloadedwithvarioustrucksandcarsandmergingvehicleswerenothisforte.Healsohadthephoneinhishand,trackingthetwoGPSlocators,andhedidn’twanttodothatandhandleabusyhighwayatthesametime.
Heneededtimetosortthroughhisnextmove.
“Takeexitsixteen,”Wildesaid.
“TheoneforHarriman?”
“Yes.”
Rolaasked,“ArewegoingtoWoodburyCommons?”
“What?”
“It’saginormousmallofoutletstores,rightpastthetollplaza.Nike,RalphLauren,ToryBurch,OshKoshB’gosh,azillionothers.Factorystores.ThekidslovetheChildren’sPlace.Everbeen?Supposedtobehugediscounts,butmyfriendJane,whoknowsmoreaboutretailshoppingthananyone,says,whenyouaddinthetravelandthelowerquality—”
“No,we’renotgoingshopping.”
“Iknow,Wilde.I’mjustbabblinghere.YouknowwhenyouplaythesilentmountainmanIgetchatty.”
“AndevenwhenIdon’t,”hereplied.
“Funny.”
“Maketheright.Route32North.”
“HowlonghasitbeensinceyoucalledMomandDad?”
ShemeanttheBrewers.“Idon’tcallthemthat.”
“Doyoucallmeyoursister?”
Hesaidnothing.
“TheBrewersweregoodtous,Wilde.”
“Very,”hesaid.
“Theymissyou,youknow.AndImissyou.Ofcourse,sittingherewithyounowIdon’trememberwhyImissyou.It’snotlikeImissthissparklingrepartee.”
“Youhaveyourgun?”
“Itoldyoubeforeweleft.Yes.Wherearewegoing?”
“IthinkIhavealeadonwheretheboyisbeingheld.”
“Youserious?”
“No,I’mkidding,Rola.Ialwayswasaterrifickidder.”
Shegrinned.“That’smorelikeit,mybrother.AndIcallyouthat,bytheway.Mybrother.”
“There’sareststopacoupleofmilesuptheroad.Iwantyoutopullinandparkwherewecanseeeverything,butnoonecanseeus.”
“Gotit.”
Wildeplannedouttheirnextmoves.They’dpark.They’dwait.Itwouldn’tbelong.Twentyminutestops.Andthen…
“Look,”Rolasaid.
Damn,Wildethought.
Thebluesignread:
RESTAREA—1MILE
…infamiliarwhitelettering.Butthere,slashingacrossthosewords,wasaneon-orangesignwithblackletters:
CLOSED
Closed?Wildehadn’tanticipatedthat.
“Nowwhat?”Rolaasked.
“Keepdriving.Trytoslowdownalittle,butnothingobvious.”
Thereststophadclearlybeenshutdownforawhile.Ithadtemporaryfencingwithapadlockedgateontheentranceramp.Weedssprangthroughthecrackedpavement.Theglasswindowsofthesmallconveniencestorewerecoveredinplywood.Aflatcanopyledfromthegasstation’sofficetothreenonworkingpumps.Therewasatwo-carmechanic’sgarage.Ahut-likebuildingontherighthadafadedDunkin’Donutssignhalffallingoffthefacade.
Wildelookedforvehicles.Nonewerevisible.
Thatmadenosense.
“Nowwhat?”
Wildebroughtupastandardnavigationappandusedhisfingerstospreaditoutandseethemap.“Takethenextexit.”
“Gotit.”
Whentheyreachedtheendoftheramp,Wildetoldhertoveerrightandthentakethefirstrightturn.Helookedoutthewindowandtoldhertoslowdown.
“SeethatDairyQueenontheright?”
“ArewestoppingforanOreoBlizzard?”Rolaasked.
“Yourcomictiming,”hesaid.“Itoftensucks.”
“GoodthingI’mcutethen.”
“Uh-huh.Headtotherear.Thelotshouldbackupdirectlybehindthatreststop.”
Rolamadetheturn.NocarswereparkedbehindtheDairyQueen.Wildehitthebuttontolowerthewindow.Helookedupthehillandbingo—hespottedthebackoftheclosedgasstation.
“Stayhere,”Wildesaid,reachingforthedoorhandle.
“Noway.”
“Fine.GetanOreoBlizzard.”
Rolafrowned.“Mycomictimingsucks?”
“IfIdon’tcheckineverytenminutes,callthepolice.”
“I’mgoing.”
“Ineedyouto—”
“—callthepoliceifyoudon’tcheckineverytenminutes,”Rolasaid.“Iheardyou.I’llhaveZeldadothatviaherphone.Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,butIdon’twantyougoinginunarmed.”
“Fine,givemeyourgun.”
“Nooffense,Wilde,butyou’retrashwithagun,”shesaid.Whichwastrue.
“Thiscouldbedangerous.”
“Ilovedanger.”
“Youhavek—”
“Stop,”Rolasaid,holdingupherhandforemphasis.“Ifyou’regoingtosayIhavekidsorafamilyoranyothersexistbullshit,I’llshootyoumyself.”
Hesaidnothing.
“I’mgoing,Wilde.Thisisnonnegotiable,solet’sstopwastingtime.”
Rolagotoutofthecar.Wildequicklyfollowedandputahandonhershoulder.Shegotit.Drivingmightnotbehisforte,butapproachingquietlywas.Heshouldlead.Sheshouldfollow.
Theystartedupthehill,stayinglow.Rolatookoutthegunandkeptitinherrighthand,justincase.Whentheyreachedthetopofthehill,theyweremaybethirty,fortyyardsfromtheclosedgasstation.Thebackwallwascinderblockandcoveredingraffiti,mostofitabigbubble-lettertagspellingoutthewordsSPOONandABEONA
Wildecreptcloser,hisgazeconstantlyonthemove.Nosignsoflife.Nosignsofacar.HeriskedaglanceattheGPSlocatoronhisphone’sscreen.Noquestionaboutit.Thecarwasrightnearhere.
Hemovedtowardthebackofthegasstation.Whentheywereintheclearing,hepickedupspeed,hopingnoonewouldspotthem.Rolakeptpace.Theyreachedthecinderblockandpressedtheirbacksagainstit.
Rolagavehimalookthatsaid,Nowwhat?
Hemouthed,Waithere.Heslidtowardtheside.Thegrasswasovergrownenoughtoloseathirdgrader.Hecouldseetiresstrewnaboutit,afewcrowbars,avarietyofrustedengineparts.Onthesideoftheconcretewall,someonehadlongagopaintedthewordsTIRESERVICEinredandblue.Theletterswerefadednow,beatenandstrippedbyyearsofsun
Wildestayedlowandmovedtothefront.Thegaragebayswereclosed.Wildelookedatthebottomofthedoors.Windhadcoveredoneup,sealingthebottom.Theothergaragedoorthoughhadasolidcrackopening.
Someonehadnotshutitalltheway.
Thereweretiretracksinthedirtleadinguptoit.
Wildehadbeenconfusedwhenhe’dfirstseenthatthereststopwasclosed.He’dfiguredthatthishadbeenameetingplace,aspottheycouldcomeandhashouttheirkidnappingplanwithoutdrawingattention.HefiguredthatmaybeheandRolawouldparkandwaitandfollow—andthatthecarwouldleadhimtoCrash.
This,ofcourse,wasbetter.
Wildelayonhisstomachandmovedclosertotheopeninginthegaragedoor.Hepeeredin.Yep.Justasheexpected.
Thecar.
Hewashere.
Wildemovedbacktothesideofthegarage.Hepeekedaroundthecorner,takingitallin,beforehesawsomethingthatmadehimpullup.TheoldDunkin’Donutshut.Atfirstglancetherewasnothingremarkableaboutit.Thewindowswerecoveredbyplywood.Asignwashangingbyonenail.Itwasrundownandbeatupandonedayawreckingballwouldenditsexistencemercifullyandeffortlessly.Therewasonlyoneoddthing.
Theair-conditioningunitinthewindowtowardtheback.
Itlookednew.
Wilde’sheartstartedpounding.HeheadedbacktoRola.ShegreetedhimwithaWhatgives?shrug.Hesignaledforhertofollowhim.Theyslidalongthebackwall.WhentheDunkin’Donutscameintoview,Wildepointedtotheairconditioner.IttookRolaasecondtogetit,butthenshegavehimathumbs-up.
Wildecheckedthelocatorappagain.Theystillhadtenminutes.Asheputthephonebackinhispocket,Rolaagaingavehimalookasiftoask,Whatwasthat?Heshookitoff.Notime.
They’dbeoutintheopen.Therewasnowaytoavoidthat.Rolahadthegunout.Wildegesturedthathe’dgofirst.Ifsomeonetookashotathim,Rolashouldbeattheready.Shereluctantlyagreed.Wildemadethesprint,andashedid,heheardasoundthatmadethebloodinhisveinshum.Overthesoundsofthecarsspeedingbyonthenearbyhighway,Wildecouldmakeouttheairconditioner.
Itwason.
SomeonewasinthatDunkin’Donutsbackroom.
Whenhewasupagainstthewallofthehut,helookedoverhisshouldertowardRola.Hewastemptedtosignalforhertowaitthere,butsupposewhoeverwasinsidetheDunkin’Donutsbackroom—assumingsomeonewasinsideandnoonehadjustlefttheair-conditioninguniton—mightbearmed.
Shehadthegun.
Hewavedherforward.Rolakepttheweaponatherside,pointeddown.Shewasagileandquick,evertheathlete.Whenshereachedhim,theybothduckeddown.Neithermovedforamoment,waitingtoseewhethertheywereheardorseen.
Nothing.
Wildecrawledtowardtheairconditioner.Hegesturedwithhishandforhertostaydown.Shenodded.Heliftedhimselfup.Hecouldfeeltheexhaustairblowingoutthebackoftheunit.
Thewindowshadewasdrawn.
Hecouldn’tseein.
Nowwhat?
Timewasa-ticking.Hecamebackdowntoher.
“Someoneisinthatbackroom,”hewhispered,“butsomeonemayalsobeinthegasstationoffice.Ineedyoutodrawthegunandbeready.I’mgoingtoopenthewindowacrackandpullouttheairconditioner.QuietlyifIcan.Youbeready?”
Rolanodded.“Gotit.”
Hestoodandinspectedthewindow.Theunitdidn’tlookscrewedinoranythinglikethat.Allhehadtodowasslidethewindowupaninchandpulltheairconditionerout,allinoneswiftmove.Wilderehearsedtheactioninhismindasheputhishandsonthebottomofthewindowframe.
Rolastoodwithherbackagainstthewall.Thegunwasready.
ThenWildemouthedthecountdowntoher.
One,two…
Onthree,Wildepushedthewindowopenandgrabbedtheairconditionerout.Atthesametime,Rolaswungintoaction.Shespuntowardtheopening,thegunupandready.
WhenRolasawwhowasinside,shepulledtheguntoherside.Wildedroppedtheairconditionerandlookedtoo.
CrashMaynardwaschainedtoabed.
Hishandwaswrappedinheavywhitegauze.Crashlookedbacktowardthem,stunned.Wildemovedfast.Heputhisindexfingertohislipswhileslippingthroughthewindow.Hehurriedovertotheteenandwhispered,“Stayquiet,Crash.We’reheretohelp.”
TearsstartedrollingdownCrash’sface.“Iwanttogohome.”
Hesoundedlikealittleboy.
“You’regoinghome,”Wildewhispered.“Ipromiseyou.Howmanyofthemarethere?”
Crashheldupthegauze-encasedhand.“Lookwhattheydidtome.”
“Iknow.We’regoingtogetyoutoadoctor.Focus,Crash.Howmanyofthem?”
“Idon’tknow.Theydon’ttalk.Theywearskimasks.Please.Please.Ijustwanttogethome.Please.”
Hestartedsobbing.Wildecheckedtheshackleholdingtheboyinplace.Thechaintraveledfromhisankletoaplateinthewall.HelookedbackatthewindowforRola.Hewassurprisednottoseeher.
Twosecondslater,Rolapoppedbackintoview,thistimecarryingoneofthediscardedcrowbars.Shehandedittohim.
Crashcried,“Please…”
“It’sokay,Crash.Holdon.”
Wildeusedthecrowbaragainsttheplateinthewall.Itdidn’ttakelong.Twotugsandtheplatepoppedout.
Atsixteenyearsold,Crashwasprettyclosetofullygrown.Wildewouldbeabletocarryhimifneedbe,buttheteenrolledquicklyoffthebedandstood.
“Doyouknowwheretheystay?”Wildeasked.
Crashshookhishead.“Iwanttogohome.Please?”
“HowaboutNaomi?”
Hewasprettysureheknewtheanswer—butCrash’sbaffledexpressionconfirmedit.“NaomiPine?”
“Nevermind.”
Theymovedtothewindow.Crashclimbedthroughfirst.Rolahelpedhim.Wildefollowed.Whentheywerebackoutside,theyduckeddownandstayedaslowaspossible.
“Takehimbacktothecar,”Wildetoldher.
“Youcomewithus,”Rolasaid.
“No.Ihavemoreworktodo.”
“YouthinkNaomimight—?”
“Justgo.Takehim.”
Rola’seyesboreintohis.“Wecanjustcallthepolice,Wilde.Theycanhaveahundredcopssurroundingthisplaceintenminutes.”
“No,”Wildesaidagain.
“Idon’tunderstand—”
“Notimetoexplain.Takehim.I’llbefine.”
Rolastudiedhisface.Wildedidn’tlikethat,buthegavehernothing.Shefrownedandhandedhimthegun.“Incaseyouneedit.”
“Thanks.”
“I’mgivingyoufifteenminutes.IfIdon’thearfromyoubythen,I’mcallingthepolice.”
“Don’twaitforme.Whenyougetbacktothecar,takehimimmediatelytotheValleyHospital.Thefingeristhere.Everysecondcounts.”
“Idon’tlikethis,Wilde.”
“Trustme,mysister.”
Rola’seyeswelledupwhenhecalledherthat.ShelookedtowardCrash.“Thinkyoucanmakearunforit?”
Crashhadstoppedcryingnow.“I’mready.”
Rolatookofffirst.Crashfollowedher,cradlinghisinjuredhandwithhisgoodone.Wildewatcheduntiltheywereoutofsight.Hecheckedthelocatorappagain.
Therewasn’tmuchtime.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Wildemovedtothebackofthegasstationagain,thentothewallwiththefadedTIRESERVICEontheside.Afewsecondslater,hecrawledinfrontofthemechanicbaydoorthathadbeenopenedacrack.Hegotonhisstomach,makinghimselfasflataspossible.
Heneededtohurry.
Stillonhisstomach,helookedthroughtheopening.Wildecouldseethatthedoorslidupanddownonatrackwithwheels.Manual.Notelectric.Thatwasgood.Hegotuponhiskneesnow,cuppedhishandstothebottomofthedoor,andusingabicepcurlmovement,hemovedituponeinch.
Thedoorsqueaked.
Loudenoughforsomeonetohear?Thathedidn’tknow.Heassumedthatnoonewasintheactualgarage.Themorelikelyplaceforthekidnappertobe—theonlyplaceleftreally—wasintheadjacentgasstationoffice.
Wildestayedstill,listeningforanyonecoming.Noone.Allheheardwasthenow-familiarcacophonyofcarsspeedingby.Hehopedthatnoonefromtheroadwouldseehim.Hedidn’twantsomeonecallingthepolicetoreportastrangeintruder.
Notyetanyway.
Hepulleduponthedooranotherinch.Thenanother.
Squeak,squeak.
Enough.Heforceditupanothersixinches.Thatwasallhe’dneed.Hegotbackonhisbellyandshimmiedintothegarage.Itwasdark.Dustcameupandintohisnose,butthatwouldn’tbotherhim.Thegaragereekedofspilledpetrolandmildew.Wildegotup,stayedlow,movedtothesideofthecarfarthestawayfromtheadjacentoffice.
Heheardtheclackofsomeonetypingonakeyboard.
Wildehadn’tliedtoRola,buthehadn’ttoldhertheentiretrutheither.Hehadn’ttoldherthathe’dfiguredoutaboutthisreststopinthesimplestwaypossible—fromtheGPSlocatorsRolaherselfhadgivenhim.Hehadn’ttoldherthatthecarhe’dspottedinthisgaragebay—thecarhewasnowhidingbehind—wasthesameChevroletCruzethatGavinChambershadusedtomeethimatthat7-Eleven.
ThathadbeenamistakeonGavin’spart.
Wilde’ssuspicions,whichhadalreadytakenroot,blossomedthemomentGavinpulledintothat7-ElevenwithouthisusualdriverorSUVvehicle.Whysuddenlycomealone?Whywouldaguywithhismoney,aguywhonormallygotchauffeuredaroundinaCadillacEscalade,nowbedrivingaChevroletCruze,acarmodelusedextensivelybyrental-carcompanies?
Onitsown,thatmeantnothing.Butitwasenough.
StillduckingbehindtheChevy—stillhearingtheclackingofsomeonetyping—Wildecheckedthelocatorapponhisphone.
Twominutesuntiltheothercararrived.
Hehadtogetready.
Wildecrawledfromthebacktiretothefrontone,andthentothefrontbumper.Helookedtohisleft,towardthedoortotheoffice.
Itwasopen.
Hecouldseeaman’sback,buthe’dneedtogetclosertomakesure.Hemovedalittlefartherout,towardtheshelving.Hestayedlow.Whenhewasabouttwofeetfromthebackwall,hecouldmakeouttheprofileofthemanwhowastyping
GavinChambers.
Withoutwarning,GavinturnedhisheadtowardWilde.
Wildedroppedflatonhisstomachagain.Thegunwastuckedintohiswaistbandintheback.Hereachednowandtookitout.GavinChambers,nodoubt,wouldbearmed.IfGavinhadspottedhim,ifhewasrightnowonhisway…
Butno.
Theothercarhadarrived.Onitswaypastthelockedgate,ithadtrippedasensor.ThatwaswhathadalertedGavin.Thatwaswhyhe’dturnedhishead.
WildecrawledbacksothathewashiddenbetweentheChevroletCruzeandthefarwall.Aminutelater,heheardthefumblingoftheotherbaydoor.GavinChambersrosefromhischair.FromunderthecarriageoftheChevy,WildecouldseeGavin’sfeetgopast.Gavinpulledthebaydoorallthewayopen.Acarpulledin.Gavinimmediatelyshutthedoorbehindit.
Thedriveropenedthedoorandsteppedout.
“DidMaynardsendthetape?Didyouwatchityet?”
ItwasSaulStrauss.
Gavinsaid,“I’mjustwatchingitnow.”
“And?”
“Andit’ssolidgold,”Gavinsaid.“RustyadmitshekilledAnson,thoughheclaimsitwasinself-defense.”
“MyGod.”
“Yes.”
“Weneedtosenditoutnow.Takenochances.”
“Agree,”Gavinsaid.
Thetwomenheadedintotheoffice.Wildestayedwherehewas.
“Iknewit,”Strausssaid,aliltinhisvoice.“Iknewthattapeexisted.Ididn’twantittogothisfar,but…”
“IcouldseewhyDashwasreticentaboutgivingitup,”Chamberssaid.“ItruinsRusty,sure,butithurtshimtoo.Idon’tknowifMaynardcanbechargedforhelpingmovethebody.Thatstatuteoflimitationshasprobablypassed.Butanyonewhohearsitwillknowwhathedid.”
“AndheletRaymondStarktakethefall.”
“Iknow.”
“It’sonethingtohelpabuddyout,Iguess.Buttositbackwhileanothermangoestoprisonforlife.”
“Scum,”Gavinagreed.“Let’sgetthetapeready.”
Wildedidn’tmove.Hecould,ofcourse,stopthemnow.Hecouldriseupandpointthegunandnotletthemgetbacktothecomputer.
Buthedidn’t.
Wildewaited.
“Igotitkeyedup,”Gavinsaid.
“Allthemajornetworks?”Straussasked.
“PlussomebloggersandTwitteraccounts.”
“Thisisit,myfriend.Hitsend.”
OnelastchanceforWildetoact.
Heheardtheclickofthekey.
“Done,”Gavinsaid.
Thereliefinhistonewaspalpable.
“Weneedtofreethekid,”Strausssaid.“YouhavethecoordinatestosendtotheMaynards?”
“Doyouthinkweshouldwait?”Gavinasked.
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow.Theymayhavemore.”
“More?”
“Moretapes,”GavinChamberssaid.“Theycouldbeholdingoutonus.”
“Wecan’t,”Strausssaid.“This…it’sgonefarenough,Gavin.Thatboy…”
“Yeah.”WildecouldhearthedevastationnowinGavin’svoice.“Yeah,you’reright.”
“Handmetheskimask.Let’sgofinishthis.”
Wildecameoutfromhishidingspotandpointedthegunatthem.“Noneed.”
GavinChambersandSaulStraussspuntowardhim.Wilderaisedthegun.
“Ifyoubreathewrong,”Wildesaid,“I’llshootyouboth.Gavin,Iassumeyou’rearmed?”
“Iam.”
“Holsterundertheleftarmpit?”
“Yes.”
“Youknowthedrill.Thumbandindexfinger.Throwitoverhere.Doitslowly.Saul?”
“I’munarmed.”Saulhelduphishandsandtwirledslowly.
“KeepyourhandsonthedeskwhereIcanseethem.Gavin,tossthegun.”
GavinChamberstookthegunoutofhisholsterandtosseditonthefloortowardWilde.Wildepickeditupandstuckitinhiswaistband.
“Howdidyoufigureitout?”Gavinasked.
“Lotsofthings.Butthemainonewasthemostbasic.IkeptwonderinghowCrashcouldbekidnappedsoclosetohisownhomewithsomeoneasgoodasyouguardinghim.Thesimplestanswer?Hecan’t.Soyouhadtobeinvolved.”WildelookedatGavin,thenatSaul.“IassumeyouguyshatchedthisideaafterNaomiPineranaway?”
“Wedid,”Gavinsaid.
“Madesense.Naomigoesmissing.ShehasatentativeconnectiontoCrash.SoyouknowthatifCrashgoesmissingnow,everyonewilltiethemtogether.Itgaveyoutime.Itgaveyoutheultimatediversion.Youevensaidittome,Gavin.”
“Saidwhat?”
“AtmyEcocapsule.TheGhostArmy.Everythingyoudidwasabouttacticaldeception.”
“Andyethereweare.”
“Hereweare.”
Gavinsmiled.“Weoverdidit,didn’twe?”
“Youdid.”
“Ididn’texpecttheMaynardstobringyouandHesterin.”
“Right,thatthrewyou.It’swhyyoukeptinsistingIconcentrateonNaomi.YouknewthatevenifIwassuccessfulinfindingher,I’dbenoclosertothetruthaboutCrash.Theproblemis,youbothgildedthatlily.Saul,youshowupatthehotelbartoaskmeaboutNaomithenightCrashdisappears.Why?Ididn’trealizeitatthetime,butevenifyouthoughtCrashandNaomiwereclose,whywouldyouaskmetohelpyou?YouwerejustplantingtheseedsoI’dgointhewrongdirection.Thenyou”—WildelookedbackatGavin—“youshowupatthe7-ElevenwithsomesuddenlyunearthedsecretmessagethatagainwassupposedtomakemethinkthatNaomiwasconnectedtowhateverhappenedtoCrash.”
Gavinnodded,seeingitnow.“YouaskedmeforaridetotheMaynards’.”
“Right.”
“That’swhenyouplantedtheGPStrackerinthecar.”
“You’reawealthy,successfulman.Youalwayshaveadriveroratleastanexpensivecar.Suddenlyyou’reinaChevyCruze?Ifigureditwasarental.”
“Butyoudidn’tknowforsure?”
“Iwasjustcoveringmybases.ThentodaySaulconvenientlyshowsupbytheschool.Heclaimstohavemenfollowingme,thathehasaninsidesourceattheMaynards’.Butwhowouldthatbe?Hesterwouldn’ttalk.Neitherwouldmypeople.TheMaynards?Notachance.Soithadtobethekidnapper.You,Gavin.”
“Eliminatethepossibleandwhateverremains,”Saulsaid,quotingArthurConanDoyle,“nomatterhowimprobable,isthetruth.”
“Exactly.SowhenSauldrovemeuptoSingSing,IplantedanotherGPSlocatorinhiscar.AfteryoudroppedmebackneartheMaynards’,youdroveuptothisreststop.Youdidn’tstaylong.Justtofeedthekid,Iguess.Lookinonhim.Butthedaybefore,accordingtothelocatorinGavin’sCruze,hehadstoppedheretoo.Whywouldbothofyoubeinthisfairlyremotereststop?Youtwohadtobeinonthistogether.Oh,andthefingercoordinatesbeingwhereIwasfoundasakid.Again,overkill.Theonlyreasonsomeonewoulddothatwouldbetomesswithmyhead.Ofcourse,Igotstuffwrongtoo.LikeIfiguredyoujustrendezvousedatthisreststop.Metup,discussedthings,whatever.ButwhenIarrivedjustnow,Iwassurprisedtoseeitwasclosed.”
“Howdidyousneakinhereanyway?Wehavesensorsbyalltheentrances.”
“Butnotintheback.There’saDairyQueen.”
“SoyoufoundCrashintheDunkin’Donutshut.”
“Yes.”
“Whereishenow?”
“Probablyatthehospital.Rolatookhim.”
“SoRolaknowsaboutthis?”
Wildechosenottoreply.
“Yougetwhywedidthis,”Saulsaid.“Youseethedanger,right?”
“Ittookmeawhiletoremovetheblindersofself-interest,”Gavinsaid.“Youbecomesoenmeshedinacharismaticleader,seducedbyallthathecangiveyou,thatyoucan’tseepasthisbullshit.ThenSaulstartedpleadinghiscasetome.”
“Youdidn’tneedmuchpersuasion,”Saulsaid.“Youwerealreadystartingtosee.”
“MaybeIwas—thepillpopping,theerraticbehavior,theeasewithwhichhecouldmanipulate.Ilikedhisideaoftearingdownthesocialordertorebuild,butasIspentmoretimewithhim,itbecameclearthatRustydoesn’twanttorebuild.Rustywantstodestroythiscountry.Hewantstopullusapartbytheseams.”
“Wetwooldmendon’tagreeonmuch,”Saulsaid.“I’mononesideofthepoliticalaisle.Gavinisontheother.ButwearebothAmericans.”
“Ourviews,oppositeastheymightseem,areintherealmofnormalcy.”
“That’snotwhatRustywants.Rustywantstomakeeveryonechooseaside,turneveryoneintoanextremist.”
“Seemsitworked,”Wildesaid,stillholdingthegunonthem.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Youtwokidnappedachild.Youcutoffhisfinger.Ifthat’snotbeinganextremist…”
Theirfacesfell.Bothofthem.
Gavinsaid,“Youthinkwewantedtodothat?”
“Doesn’tmatterwhatyouwanted.”
“Youtellme,”SaulStrausssaid.“WouldDashMaynardhavegivenupthetapeanyotherway?”
“Again:Doesn’tmatter.Youmadethechoice.”Wildesaiditslowlyandwithemphasis:“You.Cut.Off.A.Boy’s.Finger.”
GavinChambersloweredhishead.SaulStrausstriedtoholdhishigh,buthismouthwasquaking.
“Crashwasdruggedupwhenwedidthat,unconscious,”Saulsaid.“Wekeptthepainandtraumatoaminimum.”
“Youdisfiguredhim.Thenyouthreatenedtocutoffhisarm.SupposetheMaynardsdidn’tsendthetape.Wouldyouhavegonethroughwiththat?Wouldyouhavesentthemhisarm?”
GavinChambersfinallylookedup.“Howfarwouldyougotosavemillionsoflives,Wilde?”
“Thisisn’taboutme.”
“We’reallsoldiershere,soitdamnwellis,”Gavinsaid.“Thisbattlefieldmightnotbeasobvious,butlivesareatstake.Millions.Soifdisfiguringorkillingoneperson,evenaninnocentkid,couldsavemillionsoflives,wouldyoudoit?”
“That’saprettyslipperyslopeyou’restandingon,Colonel.”
“Thefrontlinetroopsarealwaysstandingonaslipperyslope.Youknowthat.Wouldwehaverathercutoffourownfingerstosavethoselives?Ofcourse.Butthatwasn’tthechoice.Lifeisn’tlivedintheblackandwhite,Wilde.Peopleliketothinksonowadays.Alltheonlineoutrage,thingsareeitherallgoodorallbad.Butlifeislivedinthegray.Lifeislivedinthenuances.”
“Evennow,”Sauladded,“youstandingthereholdingagunonus.GavinandIarewillingtopaythepriceforwhatwedid.Wefeltwehadnochoice.Butwe’venowsavedRaymond—”
“Rightingatremendouswrong,”Gavinadded.“Nothinghypotheticalaboutthat.”
“—andonamuchlargerscale,wemaybesavedthiscountry.Thattapewejustsentoutcouldchangethecourseofhistory.”
ThetwomenwaitednowforWildetosaysomething.
Afterafewmomentspassed,GavinputhishandonSaulStrauss’sarm.“Ohman.”
“What?”Saulsaid.
“Wildegetsit.”
Straussfrowned.“Whatdoyoumean?”
GavinmetWilde’seye.“ImeanWildehasbeenhidinginthisgaragesincebeforeyouarrived.”
“So?”
“Sohewaited,Saul.Hewaitedforyoutogethere.Hewaiteduntilwesentoutthetape.”
Silence.
Strausssawitnow.HeturnedtofaceWildetoo.“Youcouldhavestoppedus.Youcouldhavepoppedoutwiththatguntwominutesearlier.”
“Andthetapewouldneverhaveseenthelightofday,”Gavinadded.
“Butyoudidn’tdothat,Wilde.”Bothmenwerenoddingalongnow.“Youcameoutwithusonthatslipperyslope.”
Wildesaidnothing.
“Intheend,”Gavinsaid,“we’rejustthreesoldiers.”
“Onelastmission.Youletuscompleteit.”
“Inmycase,”Gavinsaid,takingastepinfrontofSaul,“asuicidemission.”
Wildefinallyspoke.“Wait,what?”
“I’llbeokayinprison,”Saulsaid.“I’llstillbeabletospeakout.Icanstillbeavoice.”
“ButI’manoldmanandIdon’twanttofacethat,”Gavinsaid.Hestoodandreachedouthishand.“Letmehavemygunback,Wilde.Warriortowarrior.Letmeendthisonmyterms.”
Suicide.
“No,”Wildesaid.
“ThenI’llrunatyou.I’llforceyoutoshootme.”
“That’snotwhat’sgoingtohappeneither,”Wildesaid.“Listenclosely.Youhadyourmission,Ihadmine.Minewastofindtwomissingkids.Irescuedone.Ithenstayedbehindtosearchthesepremisesfortheother.That’swhatI’lltellRola.Naomiisn’there,isshe?”
“No,”Saulsaid,confused.“Wedon’tknowanythingaboutthat.”
“Thenmymissionhereiscomplete.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”Saulsaid.
“Yeah,”Wildesaid,“Ithinkyoudo.”
Wildedidn’tsayanotherword.Hejustloweredthegunandwalkedaway.
PARTTHREE
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
ThreeWeeksLater
HesterwasfinishingupameetingwithSimonGreene,therichfinancialadvisorwhowascapturedonaviralvideopunchingwhatlookedlikeavagrantinCentralPark.ShelikedGreene,feltthathewasgettingabadrap,butmoreimportant,thecallfromtheManhattanDAindicatedthattheywouldn’tbepressingcharges,inpartbecausenoonecouldlocatethesupposedvictim.
HesterwalkedGreenetoherofficedoor.
SimonGreenethankedher.Hestergavehimabussonthecheek.Thatwaswhenshesawherseatedinthewaitingroom.HesterstormedovertoherexecutiveassistantSarahMcLynnandsaid,“WhyisDeliaMaynardhere?”
“Sheaskedforfifteenminutes.Shesaiditwasimportant.”
“Youshouldtellmethesethings.”
“Idid.”
“When?”
“Didyoucheckyourtexts?”
“Atextisn’ttellingme.”
“Howmanytimeshavewegoneoverthis?Youtoldmenottointerruptyouandtoinformyouofschedulechangesviatext.”
“Idid?”
“Youdid.Nowyouhavefifteenminutesbeforeyournextclientgetshere.It’sabillablefifteenminutes,andDeliaMaynardisaclient.ShouldItellhertogohomeor—”
“Stopalready.You’reabiggernagthanIam.Sendherin.”
HesterhadnotseenDeliaMaynardsincethatawfuldayatthemanorthreeweeksago—rightbeforethefingerwasfound.SarahshowedDeliaintotheofficeandclosedthedoorbehindher.Thetwowomenstoodandstaredatoneanotherforalongmoment.
“Howisyourson?”Hesterasked.
“Better,”Deliasaid.“Theywereabletoattachthefinger.”
“Oh,good.”
“Physically,he’sdoingfine.”
“Andmentally?”
“Therearenightmares.Itseemsthekidnappers,whoevertheywere,treatedhimwell,but…”
“Iunderstand.Andyou’vedecidednottoinvolvethepolice?”
“That’sright.”
“Nooneaskedyouhowhisfingergotsevered?”
“Thedoctordid,ofcourse.Wesaiditwasafishingincident.Idon’tthinksheboughtit,especiallysinceitwashoursbetweenthetimethefingerarrivedatthehospitalandthetimeCrashgotthere,butthere’snothingthatcanbeproved.”
“Sonooneelseknowsaboutthekidnapping.”
“Noone.”
DeliahadnoideaGavinChambersandSaulStrausshadkidnappedherson.Hesterknew,ofcourse.Threeweeksago,Wildehadconfidedinherandheronly.Shedidn’tlikewhatWildehaddoneintheend.Youdon’tworkoutsideofthesystem.Thesystemmaybeflawed,butyoudon’tcutoffchildren’sfingers,eventosaveawronglyconvictedmanoreventosave—ugh,suchdramatics—theworld.
Shehadn’tseenWildeinthreeweekseither.
“Sowhyareyouhere,Delia?”
“Tosaygoodbye.”
“Oh?”
“Wearetakingthefamilyandmovingoverseasforawhile.”
“Isee.”
“Sincethattapebecamepublic,youcan’timaginewhatit’sbeenlike.”
“IthinkIcan.”
“ThereareconstantdeaththreatscomingfromRustysupporters.TheythinkDashmadeitupordoctoredittodestroytheirhero.”
“Fakenews,”Hestersaid.
“Yes.Asourattorney,youknowthatDashcan’tcommentorauthenticateit.”
Hesterswallowedhard.“Right.Itwouldbeself-incrimination.”
DashMaynardhadcommittedfeloniesthatnightbymovingthedeadbody.HesterhadwantedtoworkRaymondStark’scaseprobono,butunfortunately,shecouldn’tbecauseoftheconflictofinterestinherrepresentingtheMaynards.Herhandswerealsotied.ShewantedDashmorethananythingtocomeforward,butashisattorney,shehadtoadvisehimagainstit.
Thesystemwasflawed,butitwasstillthesystem.
Shedidn’tthinkDashwouldcomeforwardanyway.Shealsodidn’tthinkitwouldhelp.Thatwastheworstpartofitall.Atfirst,thereleaseofthetapeseemedtodestroyRustyEggersonceandforall.
Atfirst.
Butmythicalbeastsdon’tdie,dothey?Whenyoutrytokillthem,theycomebackstronger.So:Thetapewasafake.Ifitwasn’tanoutrightfake,itwasdoctored.Ifitwasn’tdoctored,itallhappenedthirtyyearsago,soitdidn’tmatter.Ifitmattered,RustyEggerssaidonthetapethathekilledthemaninself-defenseandthat’snotacrime.Ifit’sacrime,itwasthirtyyearsago,whenRustyEggerswasjustayoungstudent,andwell,someonetriedtokillhimsohehadnochoicebuttodefendhimself.Andifthedeathwaslaterblamedonaninnocentblackman,thatwasthepolice’sfault,notRustyEggers’s.BlamethatcrookedcopKindler.Blametheracistsystem.Andifit’snotracism,RaymondStarkhadacriminalrecord,evenasaseventeen-year-old,soheprobablywouldhaveendedupinprisononanothercharge.MaybeStarkdidothercrimesthatnight,whoknows?MaybeRaymondStarkwasinvolvedinChristopherAnson’skillinganyway.Ifitwasself-defense,maybeRaymondStarkjoinedforceswithChristopherAnsontoattackRustyEggers.MaybeRaymondStarkandChristopherAnsontogethertriedtorobRustyEggersandRaymondStarkranoffwiththeknife.Maybethatwaswhytheknifewasonhim.
Likethat.
Mostofthemediascoffedatthesetheories,whichjustmadetheEggerssupporters,comingfromboththefarrightandthefarleft,digintheirheelsandbacktheirmanevenmore.
“Yousaidthatyouwouldnevertell,”Deliasaid.
“Sorry?”
“Nomatterwhat.EvenifitwastostopHitler.Ifsomethingwastoldtoyouunderattorney-clientprivilege,you’dnevertell.”
“That’sright.”Hesterdidn’tlikethewaythiswasheaded.“Youalsotoldmethattherewasnothingonthosetapes.”
“Ididn’tknowaboutthattape,”Deliasaid.“Ihadnoideathattapeexisted.IhadnoideaDashhelpedRustydumpthebodyinanalley.”
“Okay.”
“BecauseIwasgonebythen.”
Hesterfeltanicyhandtouchdownonherspine.“Sorry?”
“Thetwoofthemfoughtalot.RustyandChristopher.Alotofitwasoverme.Thirtyyearsago.Youknowhowitwas.Girlswerethings.Shinyobjects.SoIguesstheyhadabigfightinthebarthatnight.IwasdatingRustythen.Weweregettingserious.Rustyhadgottenaplumassignmentfromthesenator.Christopherhadbeenoverlooked.Idon’tknow.Whocaresanymore?SoChristopherknockedonthedoor.Ilethimin.Hewasdrunk.Hetriedtokissme.Itoldhimno.Hedidn’tstop.NogirlwasgoingtosaynotoChristopherAnson,especiallynothisrival’sgirlfriend.Youcanguesswhathappenednext.Ihatetheterm‘daterape’or‘acquaintancerape.’Thirtyyearsago,itwaspatheticallyconsidered‘boysbeingboys.’WhenIshoutedforhimtostop,hepunchedmeinthemouth.Iranintothekitchen.Herapedmerightthereonthefloor.Hewasabouttorapemeagain.Tellyouthetruth?Idon’tevenrememberreachingintothedrawerorpickinguptheknife.”
Hesterjuststoodthere.“Youkilledhim?”
Deliamovedovertothewindow.“Isatonthekitchenfloornexttohim.Theknifewasstillinhischest.Idon’tthinkhewasdeadyet.ButIcouldn’tmove.Hemadegurglingnoisesforawhile.Thenthosestopped.ButIjustsatthere.Idon’tknowhowmuchtimepassed.That’showRustyfoundme.Onthekitchenfloor.Nexttothebody.Rustytookover.Hecleanedmeup.Hedressedme.HedrovemetoUnionStation.TherewasalateAmtrakfromWashingtontoPhiladelphia.Hegotmeonitandtoldmenottocomebackuntilhecalled.IstayedinaMarriotthotelroomforthreedays.Ateroomservice.Rustytoldmehemovedthebody,sonobodywouldknow.WhenIcamebacktoWashington,nothingwasthesamebetweenus.Youcanimagine,right?”
Hestercouldfeelherheartpoundagainstherribcage.
“Webrokeup.AndIstarteddatingDash.”
Hadthatbeen,Hesterwondered,anarrangementbetweenthetwomen?WasDeliastilljustathing,ashinyobject,beingbarteredforafavor?OrhadRustyreallylovedher?HadRustylovedhersomuchthatthepoliticiansomanybelievedwoulddestroythecountrysacrificedhisownhappinesstoprotecther?
Ordoesitgodeeperthanthat?
DidRusty’sactionsthatnight—gettingridofabloodycorpse,livingwiththeawfulliesandaftermath,losingtheloveofhislifeandthenhisparents—arethosewhatwarpedRustyEggers?Hadallofthatnudgedtheyoungcollegestudentoffthestraightandnarrowandveeredhimintobecomingtheirredeemablydamagedmanhewasnow?
Deliaputupherhands.Hersmilewassad.“Therestishistory.”
“Afterallthat,you’restayingwithhim?”
“Dash?Wehavealifetogether.Afamily,kids—especiallyaboywhosufferedagreattraumaandisgoingtoneedstability.Webothkeptsecretsfromeachother.Iatleastknowhisnow.”
“Andyouwon’ttellhimyours?”
“ThatIwastheonewhokilledChristopher?”Deliashookherhead.“No,never.”
“Hellofathingtolivewith,”Hestersaid.
“Beenlivingwithitforoverthirtyyears,”Deliasaid.Shemadeaproductionoutofcheckingherwatch.“Ibettergo.”
“Peoplewouldn’tblameyou,”Hestersaid,tryingtokeepthedesperationoutofhervoice.“Youwerebeingraped.Youcanstillcomeoutofthisdoingtherightthing.”
“Iamdoingtherightthing.Forme.Formyfamily.”
Sheturnedtoleave.
“TherewasonesecretyouandDashbothkept,”Hestersaid.
“What’sthat?”
“WhatdidyouthinkwhenyouheardthatRaymondStarkhadbeenarrestedforChristopher’smurder?”
Deliadidn’treply.
“Youbothknewthetruth,right?YouandDash.Youdidn’ttalkaboutitwitheachother,butyoubothknewthataninnocentmanhadbeenarrested.Yetyounevercameforward.”
“Andsaywhat?”Deliaasked.
“Thatyoudiditinself-defense.”
“Youthinkanyonewouldbelieveme?”
“SoyoujustletRaymondStarktakethefall.”
“Ihopedhe’dgetoff.”
“Andwhenhedidn’t?”Hestercrossedtheroomandgotintoherface.“Whenhegotsentencedtolifeinprisonforsomethinghedidn’tdo?Whenhegotbeatenandabused?”
“Ididn’tsentencehim.Ididn’tbeathimorabusehim.Won’tthetapefreehimnow?”
“No,Delia.Thetapewon’tbeenough.RaymondStarkwillstayinprison.”Hestertookabreath,triedtosoundreasonable.“Butplease,listentome—”
“No.I’mleavingnow.”
“Youhelpedlockhimup.Youcan’tjust—”
“Goodbye,Hester.”
“Icouldtell.”
Deliasmiledandshookherhead.“No,youcouldn’t,Hester.”
Hesterstoodthere,herfistsatherside,herbodyshaking.
“Firstoff,”Deliasaid,“thereisnoevidence.I’lljustdenyit.Butmorethanthat,youwon’tviolateattorney-clientprivilege.EvenifitmeantsavingtheworldfromHitler.Evenifitmeansaninnocentmanstaysinjail.”
Thesystemwasflawed,butitwasstillthesystem.
DeliaMaynardlefttheofficethen.Forafewminutes,Hesterdidn’tmove.SarahMcLynncameinandsaid,“Yournextappointment—”
“Cancel.”
“Ican’tjustcancel.He’s—”
“Cancel.”
Thetoneleftnoroomforargument.Hestercircledbacktoherdesk.Withashakinghand,shepickedupthephoneanddialedthenumber.
Thevoicethatansweredsoundedtentative.“Hello?”
“Oren?”
Shehadn’tspokentohiminthreeweeks,notsincethepizzadate.Shehadn’treturnedhiscallsoransweredhistexts.
“Areyouokay,Hester?”
“Ineedyoutotakemesomeplace.Ineedyoutotakemenow.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Twohourslater,OrenpulledthesquadcarontotheshoulderofMountainRoad.Heturnedofftheignition.Forafewmomentsthetwoofthemjustsatinsilence.
“Areyousureyouwanttodothis?”
WhenHesternodded,Orengotoutofthepassengersideandopenedherdoor.Upahead,Hestersawtheweatheredmakeshiftcross.Itwasoddforhertoseeithere—hersonhadbeenraisedsomewherebetweenagnosticandJewish—butforsomereason,Hesterdidn’tmindit.Someonehadcared.Someonehadtried.
Hesterwalkedovertotheedgeofthehighwayandlookeddownthesteepembankment.
“Sothisiswhere…?”
“Yes.”
Hesterhadneverhadthecourage—ifcouragewastherightword—tocomehere.Irahad.Manytimes.Hewouldn’ttellher.Hewouldsayhewasgoingoutforarideortopickupmilkatthe7-Eleven,butsheknewthathewouldpullhiscaroverontheshoulder,maybeinthisexactsamespot,andgetoutandlookatthemakeshiftcrossandsob.
Irahadn’ttoldher.Shewishedthathehad.
“Wheredidthecarendup?”
“Downthere,”Orensaid,pointingtoaspotfardownthehill.
“Youwereoneofthefirstofficersonthescene.”
Orencouldn’ttellwhetherthatwasaquestionorastatement.“Yes.”
“Thecarwasonfire.”
“Yes.”
“WildehadalreadypulledDavidout.”
Orenjustnoddedthistime.
“Wildetoldmehewastheonedriving,”Hestersaid.
“Hetoldusthattoo,”Orensaid.“Wedidn’tchargehimthough.Noalcoholinhissystem.Theroadswerewet.”
“WasWildedriving?”
“That’swhatourreportsaid.”
Hesterturnedtohim.“I’mnotaskingyouwhatyourreportsaid.”
Oren’seyesstayedontheravine.“Whentheonlysurvivorofacaraccidenttellsyouhewasthedriver,it’shardtoproveotherwise.”
“Wildelied,didn’the?”
Orendidn’treply.
Hesterstoodsothattheywereshouldertoshoulder.“WildeandDavidwerebestfriends.Youknowthat,right?”
Orennodded.“Ido.”
“Thatnight,theywenttoMiller’sTavern.InDavid’scar.MyDaviddidn’tdrinkmuchorgoforbarsmuch—thatwasmoreWilde’sscene,Ithink—buthewashavingproblemswithLaila.Nothingserious.Nothingtheywouldn’tgetpast.Sothetwobestfriendswentouttoblowoffsomesteamorwhatevermendo.Daviddranktoomuch.Thehospitalranatoxicologyreportwhenhewasrushedin—whentheystillthoughtmyboywouldsurvive.Wildedidn’twanttogetDavidintrouble.Sohesaiditwashim.Thathewasdriving.”
Orenstillsaidnothing.
“Isthatwhathappened,Oren?”
“DidyouaskWilde?”
“Heinsistshewasdriving.”
“Butyoudon’tbelievehim.”
“Idon’t,no.AmIright?”
Orenlookeddown.Shewatchedhiseyes.Theyweresoclear,sohonest,sobeautiful.“Oren?”
Thenhesaidsomethingthatsurprisedher:“Idon’tthinkyouhaveitexactlyright.”
Foramomentshecouldn’tfindhervoice.Whenshedid:“Whatdoyoumean?”
“WildewouldneverhaveletDaviddrivedrunk.”
“So…”Hesterdidn’tknowwhattosay.“I’mnotfollowing.”
“WecheckedMiller’sTavern.Wildewasaregular,asyousaid.Davidwasn’t,butthatnight,yeah,hegotprettydrunk.Anyway,nothingwecouldprove,butonepatronsaidWildeleftatleasthalfanhourbeforeDavid.Onhisown.”
“Why?”
“Idon’tknow.Wildewouldonlytellushewasthedriver.”
“Davidwastherealone?”
“Aloneanddrinking,yes.Thisisalljustatheory,Hester.Butatthattime,Wildewaslivinginatentnotfarfromhere.”Hepointedtotheleft.“Maybethreehundredyardsinthatdirection.AgainIdon’thaveanyproof.Wildeinsistedthathedrove,butyeah,Ineverbelievedit.IthinkWildewasnearby.Ithinkheheardthecrashorsawtheflames.Ithinkhewantedtoprotecthisfriend.AndIthinkhefelt—feels—guiltyaboutnotstayingatthebarthatnight.”
Hesterfeltathuddeepinherchest.“SoyouthinkDavidwasaloneinthecar?”
WhenOrennodded,Hesterdroppedtoherknees.Shedroppedtoherkneesandcried.
Orenlether.Hestoodthere,closeenoughthatifsheneededhim,hewasthere.Buthedidn’treachouttoher.ThankGod.ThankGodthisman,thisgoodanddecentman,knewtonothugherorofferwordsoffalsecomfort.
Hejustlethercry.
Ittooksometime.Shecouldn’tsayhowmuch.Fiveminutes,ten,maybehalfanhour.OrenCarmichaeljuststoodthere,guardingherlikeasilentsentinel.Atsomepoint,shegotbackintohissquadcar.HestarteddownMountainRoad.Theydroveinsilence.
Finally:“Oren?”
“I’mhere.”
“I’msorryIdidn’tcallyouback.”
Orendidn’treply.
“Whenyourushedoutofthepizzeriatogotothatcaraccident,Irealizedthatwehadnochance—becausenomatterwhat,wheneverIseeyou,Iwillimagineyouatthesceneofthataccident.WheneverIseeyou,Iwillseemydeadson.You’llalwaysremindmeofDavid,sowecan’tbe.”
Hekepthiseyesontheroad.
“ButthenIstartedmissingyousodamnmuch.Itwasliketherewasagiantholeinmyheart.Iknowhowthatsounds.Istartedthinkingthatevenwiththatpain,Ididn’twanttobewithoutyou—andIdidn’twanttostopthinkingaboutmyDavid,notever,becausethatwouldbetheworstoutrage.I’llneverstopthinkingabouthim.Doyouunderstand?”
Orennodded.“Ido.”
Shereachedoutandputherhandonhis.
“Areyouwillingtogiveusanotherchance,Oren?”
“Yeah,”hesaid.“Yeah,I’dreallylikethat.”
CHAPTERFORTY
Wildeboughtaround-tripticketfortheDeltashuttleflightfromNewYork’sLaGuardiaAirporttoBoston’sLogan.Hehadnoluggage.Hedidn’tplanonstayinginBostonlong—afewhourstops.Thenhe’dflybackhome.
Infact,heplannedtoneverleavetheairport.
Whentheplanelanded,WildewalkedoverfromTerminalAtoE.HepositionedhimselfnearGateE7,wherehewouldeventuallywatchpassengersboardAmericanAirlinesFlight374toCostaRica.
Twohourstogo.
Topassthetime,WildeopenedtheDNAgenealogywebsiteandfoundthemessagefrom“PB.”Hereaditagain,thoughtaboutit,thendecidedtowrite:
I’dliketoknowmore,PB.Canwemeet?
Hewasabouttoputawayhisphonewhenitrang.WildecheckedthecallerIDandsawthatitwasMatthew.Hepickedupimmediately.
“Everythingokay?”Wildesaid.
“Youdon’thavetoanswerthephonelikethat,”Matthewsaid.“Youcanjustsay,‘Hello.’”
“Hello.Everythingokay?”
“Yeah,Wilde.ExceptIhaven’tseenyouinweeks.”
“Sorry.Howarethingsatschool?”
“Calmingdown.Crashisbackalready.Hekeepsshowingoffthisscaronhisfingerandsayingsomebadguyscutitoff.Momsaysitwasafishingaccident.Wilde?”
“Yeah?”
“EveryonethinksNaomiranaway.Theythinkshe’ssomewhereonanislandordoingsomethingcoolorexotic—whichisironicsincetheyalwaysthoughtshewassuchaloser.”
“Iknow.”
“Areyoustilllookingforher?”
Wildedidn’tknowhowtoanswerthat,sohekeptitsimple.“Yes.”
“Cool.”Then:“Whereareyou?Ihearalotofnoise.”
“InBoston.”
“Why?”
“Visitingafriend.”
Matthewmusthaveheardsomethinginhistone.“Okay.”
“How’sMom?”Wildeasked.
“StillwithDarryl.”
Darryl.DesignerThreadshadanamenow.Darryl.
“They’regettingserious,Ithink,”Matthewsaid.
Wildeclosedhiseyesforamoment.“Youlikehim?”
“He’sokay,”Matthewsaid,whichinMatthew-speakwasarave.
“Good.Benicetohim.”
“Ugh.”
“Yourmomdeservesthis.”
“Fine,whatever.”
TheflighttoCostaRicawasreadytoboardnow.Thegateagentcalledforpassengersneedingspecialassistance,passengerstravelingwithchildrenundertheageoftwo,active-dutyUSmilitarymembers.
“Anythingelse?”Wildeaskedhim.
“Nope,allgood.”
“Callmeifyouneedanything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“There’sanewGrandTheftAuto,butMomwon’tbuyitformebecauseit’stooviolent.”
“Funny.”
“Bye,Wilde.”
“Talksoon.”
HehungupasthegateagentcalledforGroup1toboard.Wildewatchedthepassengersstarttomingleneartheboardingline.
Nothing.
ThegateagentcalledforGroups2,3,and4.
Stillnothing.
ForamomentWildewonderedwhetherhehadgottenitwrongorperhapssomeonewasagaintryingtacticaldeceptionwithhim.Perhapstheyhadbookedmorethanoneflighttothrowhim.Perhapsthey’dneverintendedtoflytoday.
Butwhenthegateagentcalledthefinalgroup,Wildespottedayounggirlgettingintolinewearing,yep,abaseballcapandsunglasses.
NaomiPine.
Standinginfrontofher,holdingboththeirtickets,wasAvaO’Brien.
Forafewseconds,Wildedidn’tmove.Hedidn’thavetodoanything.Hedidn’thavetoapproachthem.Hecould,likewithGavinChambersandSaulStrauss,simplymeltaway.
Buthedidn’t.
Enoughstalling.WildewalkedoverandtappedNaomiontheshoulder.
Naomijumped,startled.Whensheturnedandsawhisface,herhandflewtohermouth.“OhmyGod.Wilde?”
Avaspunnowtoo.
Forafewseconds,theyalljuststoodthere.
Avasaid,“Howdidyou…?”
“Doyourememberwhenyouwereleaving7-ElevenandItoldyoutorolldownyourwindow?”
“What?”Avalookedbaffled.“Whataboutit?”
“IleanedinandputaGPStrackerinyourcar.”
ItwasthesamedealaswithGavinandStrauss—Ava,too,hadoverdoneitwiththetacticaldiversions.Whenhe’dtoldheraboutCrashdisappearing,allofasuddenAvahadrememberedthatNaomihadmentionedapossibleromancewithCrash,stronglyhintingthatthetwoteenshadrunofftogether.
Avahadbeentryingtothrowhimoffthescenttoo.
Thequestionwas,why?
SheclearlyhadnothingtodowithCrashMaynard.
“You’refromMaine,”Wildesaid.
“Yes,Itoldyouthat.”
“WhywouldyoumovetoNewJerseytotakeajobyouwereoverqualifiedfor?”
Avashrugged.“Iwantedachange.”
“No,”Wildesaid.“You’vealsobeenbacktoMainefourtimesinthepastthreeweeks.”
“Ihavefamilyupthere.”
“Again:No.YoustayedattheHowardJohnson’sinSouthPortland,whereyouhadNaomihiding.Butmorethanthat,youvisitedtheHopeFaithAdoptionAgencyinWindhamtwice.”
Avaclosedhereyes.
“Youdidn’ttaketheassistantteachingjobbecauseyouwantedtoliveinNewJersey,”Wildesaid.“Youdidittobeclosertothedaughteryouhadtogiveupforadoption.”
Foramoment,itlookedasthoughAvamightdenyit.Butonlyforamoment.
“Youhavetounderstand,”Avasaid.“IneverwantedtogiveNaomiup.”
Sothereitwas.
“Iwasonlyseventeen.Ididn’tknowanybetter.ButIjusthad…Idon’tknow,itwasafeelingorawantorapremonitionor…SoIwentbacktotheagency.Ibeggedthemtotellmewhathappenedtomydaughter.Theywouldn’t.Notatfirst.SoIpaidsomeoneoff.TheygavemeNaomi’snewnameandaddress,buttheyexplainedthatIhadnorights.Thatwasokay.Ijustwantedtoseeher,youknow.SoIjustfigured…”
“You’dtaketheteachingjobtobeclosetoher.”
“Right.Whatharmwoulditdo?”
“Wilde?”
ItwasNaomi.
“Don’tmakemegoback.”
“Ijustwantedtoseehowshewas,”Avasaid.“That’sall.Ididn’twanttomessupherlife.ButthenIsawthehellshewaslivingthrough.Dayafterday,Ihadtositbackandwatchmychildbeingbulliedwithnosupportfromhome.”
“Soyoubecameherfriend,”Wildesaid.“Herconfidante.”
“Isthatsowrong?”
WildeturnedtoNaomi.“WhendidAvatellyouthetruth?”
“Thatshewasmyrealmother?”
“Yes.”
“AfterIcamebackfromtheChallenge,”Naomisaid.“Atfirst,Ithoughtshewasmakingituporlikeitwasadreamcometrue,youknow?Doyourememberourtalkinmybasement?HowIwantedtochangeeverything?”
Wildenodded.
“Itwasn’tjustatschool.Itwaseverything.Myfather…”
Hervoicejustfadedout.BernardPinewouldnotcomeoutofthisunscathedeither.Rolawasworkingupawaytomakehimpayforwhathe’ddone.
“Soyoutwodecidedtorunaway,”Wildesaid.
“Ididn’twantthat,”Avasaid.“Iwantedtodoitlegally.”
“WhichiswhyyouwenttoLaila.”
“Yes.ItoldherhowawfulNaomi’sadoptiveparentswere,butIstillhadnorights.Lailasaiditwouldtakemonthsoryearstoproveneglectorabuse,andeventhen,winningwasunlikely.”
“Sothat’swhenyouhatchedthisplan,”Wildesaid.“You’drunawayandhide.You”—helookedatAva—“you’dgetNaomiafakeIDwhilefinishingouttheschoolyear.Ifyouleftyourteachingpostrightaway,thatwoulddrawsuspicion.Soyoutwowaited.Andnowit’stimetofleethecountrytogether.”
Avajustlookedathimwithherbigbrowneyes.
Theboardinglinewasclear.Thegateagentmadeanotherannouncement.
Naomisteppedforwardandputherhandonhisarm.“Please,Wilde,ifwe’recaught,I’llhavetogobacktohim.Avamightgotojail.”
“She’smydaughter,”Avasaid,hertoneneversteadier.“Iloveherwithallmyheart.”
Theybothstoodtogetherandfacedhim.
“Iknow,”Wildesaid.
“So…?”
“Ijustcametomakesureyouwereallright,”Wildesaid.“Andtosaygoodbye.”
Naomithrewherarmsaroundhimsohardshealmostknockedhimover.Wildeusuallyrecoiledfromthissortofembrace.Buthedidn’t.Notthistime.Heletthegirlholdhim,anditfeltright.
“Thankyou,”Naomiwhispered.
Wildenodded.“Ifyoueverneedanything…”
Theboardingagentwasbackontheloudspeaker.“FinalcallforFlight374withservicetoLiberia,CostaRica.”
“Youguysbettergetonboard,”Wildesaid.
NaomilookedatAva.Avalookedback.ThenAvaturnedandtookWilde’shandandsaidsomethingthatcaughthimtotallyoffguard:“Comewithus,Wilde.”
“What?”
Naomiputherhandstogether.“Please?”
Wildeshookhishead.“Ican’t.”
Avaheldontohishandandsaiditagain:“Comewithus,Wilde.”
“No,”hesaid.
“Whynot?”Avaasked.
“It’scrazy,”Wildesaid.
“So?”Avagavehimasmilethatdazzledandstunned.“Everythingaboutthisiscrazy.”
Wildeshookhisheadagain,evenashefeltsomethinginhischestcrackopen.“Youguysneedtogetonboard.”
“Comewithus,Wilde,”Avasaidagain.“Naomineedsyou.MaybeIneedyoutoo,Idon’tknow.Ifitdoesn’tworkout,youjustcomeback.”
“Ican’t,”Wildesaid.
Thegateagentcameover,clearedherthroat,andsaid,“I’mclosingthedoorinthirtyseconds.”
“They’reboardingnow,”Wildesaidinatonethatleftnoroomfordebate.
Naomi’seyeswerewetwithtearswhenshethrewherarmsaroundhimonemoretime.ThenAvahandedthegateagenttheirticketstoscan.Wildewatchedthemstartdownthejetbridge.Naomiturnedandwaved.Wildewavedback.
Ava’seyeslingeredonhisalittlelonger.Whenshebrokeeyecontactandturnedaway,Wildefelthischestcrackopenalittlemore.
Hewatchedthemdisappearfromview.
Thegateagentreachedforthedoor.Asshewasabouttocloseit,Wildeasked,“Isthereanyroomonthisflight?”
“What,youwanttobuyaticket?”
“Yes.”
Thegateagentsquintedathercomputerscreen.
“Well,whatdoyouknow?”shesaid.“There’sonemoreticketavailable.”
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AbouttheAuthor
Withmorethanseventymillionbooksinprintworldwide,HarlanCobenisthe#1NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofnumeroussuspensenovels,includingRunAway,Don’tLetGo,Home,andFoolMeOnce,aswellasthemultiaward-winningMyronBolitarseries.Hisbooksarepublishedinforty-threelanguagesaroundtheglobeandhavebeennumberonebestsellersinmorethanadozencountries.HisNetflixseriesincludeSafe,starringMichaelC.Hall,andhisadaptationofhisnovelTheStranger,headlinedbyRichardArmitage.HelivesinNewJersey.
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TableofContents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
PartOne
CHAPTERONECHAPTERTWOCHAPTERTHREECHAPTERFOURCHAPTERFIVECHAPTERSIXCHAPTERSEVENCHAPTEREIGHTCHAPTERNINECHAPTERTENCHAPTERELEVEN
PartTwo
CHAPTERTWELVECHAPTERTHIRTEENCHAPTERFOURTEENCHAPTERFIFTEENCHAPTERSIXTEENCHAPTERSEVENTEENCHAPTEREIGHTEENCHAPTERNINETEENCHAPTERTWENTYCHAPTERTWENTY-ONECHAPTERTWENTY-TWOCHAPTERTWENTY-THREECHAPTERTWENTY-FOURCHAPTERTWENTY-FIVECHAPTERTWENTY-SIXCHAPTERTWENTY-SEVENCHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHTCHAPTERTWENTY-NINECHAPTERTHIRTYCHAPTERTHIRTY-ONECHAPTERTHIRTY-TWOCHAPTERTHIRTY-THREECHAPTERTHIRTY-FOURCHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVECHAPTERTHIRTY-SIXCHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
PartThree
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHTCHAPTERTHIRTY-NINECHAPTERFORTY
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