His voice was low and anguished: "I followed up, I did. After she wrote me, I told Martin Dawes to check. Ask him." He never took his wild eyes from Alex's face. His whole being seemed to beg her for understanding and redemption—forgiveness not from Kara, but from Alex.
* * *
Kara didn't believe him. She didn't believe he was sorry, or that he followed up, or cared about her now. This man was not her father—she had a mother and knew what love felt like. This man and these people were not her family—Tuesday, Flyer, Mrs. E., and Danny, they were her people. What about Liz? Liz had said there was circumstantial evidence. For how long did she wait? Worth said her grandmother knew—that means that she had deserted Kara as well. This was too hard to think about right now. Kara pushed past Vanessa, Judy, and Peggy Lawrence into the hall. As she moved down the corridor, her feet dragged more with each step. Finally, she reached the elevators and pressed the down button. To her right she saw the exit sign, so she moved toward the stairwell, stumbled down the steps, red waves of pain shimmering in front of her eyes. With her fingertips, she wiped the tears from her face and sniffed up the mucus. Somehow, she reached the lobby. She needed a taxi, or maybe she should call Danny.
"Ms. Lawrence."
The voice was familiar but she couldn't place it.
"Ms. Lawrence, you have to come with us."
Who is this man? Then it came to her. It was Special Agent Woo, and it was Monday night.
* * *
Alex sagged onto her father's bed in the spot he had made for Kara, depleted and betrayed. A part of her felt humiliated. It was all so sordid. "How could you have done this, Daddy?"
Vanessa approached her. "What part of this don't you get?"
"Vanessa, please stop. Enough."
"He didn't want his dirty secret coming out and messing up his idyllic home life. How would Judy explain it to the neighbors?"
For the first time her mother spoke, her eyes so narrowed Alex could barely see the whites. "This is a fine picture—you've upset your father. What were you thinking bringing that person here? Where's your sense?"
"Mom, don't."
"Don't what? Don't call the filth Vanessa is speaking what it is? Shame on you both."
Anguish filled her father's face, but Alex could not comfort him. She couldn't understand him, or her mother, or even the depth of Vanessa's rage. For that matter, she didn't understand what she herself was feeling. Who were these people she had loved and protected for so long? How had she missed, ignored, disguised, and shored it up all this time?
Without saying anything more, Alex walked out of the room and Vanessa followed.
Alex said more to herself than to Vanessa, "She was raped and Daddy was warned."
"It happens."
"To whom? To whom does that happen?"
"Grow up."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Vanessa was weaving back and forth on her three-inch heels.
"Are you okay?"
Vanessa straightened up, pulled her shoulders back, and stretched her Audrey Hepburn neck. "I'm fine." She sat in one of the chairs just outside of the room. "We're all just fine."
Alex took a step to sit next to Vanessa—then she remembered the black sedan.
She ran down the hall just as several men and women dressed in green scrubs were coming off the elevator. "Hold the door," Alex shouted, her cowboy boots clicking loudly on the tile floor. She bounded onto the elevator car and nodded thanks to the Asian woman who'd held it for her.
The elevator began its slow descent. It stopped on the fourth and third floors to let people in and out. Finally, it made it down to the lobby. Alex looked around: no Kara. She ran out the front door only to see the black sedan pulling away.
* * *
Kara felt a new calm. Special Agent Boyd sat in the front seat, his eyes catching hers in the rearview mirror as the car barreled south down I-684, a highway Kara recognized from the trip with Alex. The female agent she had seen on Frederick Douglass Boulevard sat next to him. Agent Woo was in the back next to Kara.
They knew. Her grandmother, her father, even Liz. They had evidence, and all the warning signs, and they left her there with Big Jim Smyth. Somehow, the threat from the FBI and whatever plan they had for her seemed inconsequential now.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Alex watched the black sedan head into the distance. Her Jeep was too far away to allow her to follow them. She trotted across the driveway to the parking lot. What should she do next? She had to help Kara, but didn't know where they would take her. Maybe they weren't even the FBI. Alex climbed into the Jeep and started the engine, glancing at the clock which read 9:46 p.m. She backed the Jeep out of the space, spun the wheel, and pulled out onto Route 172. She dialed 411 on her cell.
"Say a city and state, or ask for other services," said the recorded voice.
"New York, New York."
"What listing?"
"Daniel Waters."
"Say business or residence."
Alex almost screamed, but since it was a recording what would be the point? Instead, she did as requested as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "Residence."
"Please wait for an operator to assist you."
The street was empty, so Alex ignored the posted forty-mile-per-hour speed limit. In minutes, she'd reach the junction for I-684 South.
Finally, a live operator came on: "We have several listings."
"He lives in Harlem, New York, around 130th Street." Alex couldn't remember the exact address.
With ease, she maneuvered into the passing lane. Everyone was doing at least eighty miles per hour. Alex sped up while the operator connected her.
"Waters."
"Danny, this is Kara's sister Alex. She's in trouble. I think the FBI has her, and I don't know what to do." She sketched out what had happened. "Where do you think they would take her?"
Danny said he wasn't sure, but didn't think they'd take her all the way down to 26 Federal Plaza, especially at this time of night. "Probably to a branch office up there," he said. "What's the nearest big city?" He sounded as frantic as Alex felt.
"White Plains. I'll call information to see if there's an FBI office there, and I'll call you right back."
Danny gave her his cell number and told her he would start driving north and meet her once she had found something out. "I'm forty minutes away, I think." He also promised to call Kara's lawyer.
White Plains was about twenty minutes south. Her thoughts, like a drunk's feet, tripped over each other. In spite of the grandmother's suspicions, her father had left Kara in danger and he said he did it for Alex. In a way, she understood. She knew he was right about her mother's reaction. She would have sued him for divorce, taken the girls, and spent the rest of her life seeking revenge. Or would she have? How many times had her mother made derisive comments about divorced women, not from a moral point of view but out of pity? Her mother didn't work, and she loved the privileges of wealth.
Alex's mind jumped to Vanessa. Was she stoned? Did she drive wasted? Alex should have taken her car keys. Judy's face intruded, scrunched in rage, and Worth's words echoed in her head, There was no proof, just your grandmother's suspicions. It was as if every inevitable thing, the consequences of layers and layers of bad decisions, converged on this moment. Alex began to shake. Her fingers and torso trembled as her toes danced against the gas pedal. She had to get ahold of herself, one thing at a time: right now, she had to rescue Kara. Tomorrow, she would deal with Vanessa, and poor little Pigeon. "Stop it," she said aloud. "Focus."
* * *
The sedan pulled up in front of a stone building with a neatly lettered sign, which read, United States Court House. Special Agent Boyd held the door for Kara and helped her from the car. The trio moved toward the entrance, a street lamp lighting their path. No one spoke until the group, minus the female agent, reached a windowless conference room on the third floor. A picture of the president hung on the far wall.
&n
bsp; "Ms. Lawrence, you're in a lot of trouble, whether you realize it or not," Agent Boyd said. With deliberate motions, he took off his overcoat and then his suit jacket. "You can still help yourself, but you have to do it now."
He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but she had nothing to say. She could barely think. All the raw emotions from the hospital, the ire she had felt, had dissipated. Instead, she felt numb.
"Ms. Lawrence, look at me."
Kara tried hard to meet his unsympathetic stare, but it was more than she could manage. She dropped her eyes to her hands folded in her lap.
He bent over, his face close to hers, and spoke into her left ear: "I don't know what your lawyer told you, but even if we can't convict you, we can make your life difficult. What if we showed up at your school and questioned the principal and your colleagues? What if we subpoenaed your bank records? How long do you think it would be before people starting believing you were guilty of something?"
She raised her eyes and met his gaze. "What do you want from me?"
The agent straightened up. "Your help."
"So you said. But what does that mean?" In every crime drama she'd ever watched on television, the smart people didn't say anything until their lawyer came. Even though she'd decided to help them, she still might need protection, assurances.
"Do you know what this is, Ms. Lawrence?" He pushed an electronic apparatus toward her.
Kara studied it. Although she didn't recognize it, she knew where this was going. "You want me to record him, to trap him."
The agent leaned in close again. "If he's innocent, like he says he is, you're not trapping him, you're clearing him."
Kara opened her tote bag and pulled out her cell phone. She realized she didn't even have Mr. Green's number listed in her contacts. She would have to call Mrs. E.
"If he's guilty, like we know he is, he'll convict himself. You will have done nothing to harm him." With his index finger, Boyd moved the tiny piece of equipment around in a circle on the desk. "He'll be in his office tomorrow; he has an appointment with a potential new client—Agent Woo. All you have to do is call and tell him you have to see him. Tell him you'll help him, but he has to level with you."
It was almost ten p.m. Mrs. E. usually stayed up until midnight. Would Norman Green be up as well? Could he help her? He'd promised this would go away, but here she was anyway. Kara put the cell phone down. "No." She surprised herself. Yesterday she'd decided to help them. Moments ago, she was ready to do it, but now . . . What kind of person gets out of trouble by pushing someone else into the muck? She'd be no better than her father.
Agent Boyd's facial expression matched his disdainful tone. "What do you owe this guy? He set you up and used you."
"You said he used lots of other women. Go ask one of them."
"Do you think Mrs. Edgecombe will understand your decision?"
Kara's breath caught in her throat.
"Do you think your friend Mr. Dresden—what do you call him, Flyer?—do you think he'll understand?"
"What do they have to do with this? You leave them alone."
The man's face muscles and voice softened as he sat down. "The SEC wants this guy and it's our job to get him. We don't want to hurt you or your friends—"
"Then don't."
"But if we have to sift through the lives and finances of the people in your life, we will. Isn't Officer Waters up for sergeant?"
"You're just trying to scare me." It was working. She willed herself calm.
"We'll do whatever it takes, Kara, make no mistake." He waited a beat. "It doesn't have to be like this. Wear the wire, let him exonerate himself, save your friends, and walk away free and clear."
Kara shook her head no, but Yes was on the tip of her tongue.
Agent Boyd stood up again. The room was silent except for the sounds of breathing. His stare razor sharp, his voice once again hard: "Shake your head all you want, but this is real. Mrs. Edgecombe's medical-insurance claims could be scrutinized, payments slowed, challenged."
Can they do this?
"The breadth of our reach would surprise you. Your friend tried to commit suicide tonight. Life could get better for him," he paused, his stare never wavering, "or worse. It's up to you."
Kara tried to gauge his seriousness. His eyes were flat, his mouth a straight line. Stirring up trouble for her at school and messing with Mrs. E.'s medical claims sounded plausible. In fact, if he could pull off half of what he threatened, that was still a lot. She felt her face tighten and the pain behind her eyes intensify. All of them, everyone she loved, had few resources to fight back against such single-minded determination.
She stood up. "Okay," she said, knowing it wasn't, "I'll do it. But I want things in writing and I want my lawyer."
Agent Boyd appeared neither smug nor victorious. In fact, Kara thought she saw sympathy in his eyes.
* * *
The operator gave Alex the phone number and address of the FBI in White Plains. She was only ten minutes away. Then what? She called Danny and gave him the information. He was already only twenty minutes away, just pulling onto the Hutchinson River Parkway.
Alex saw the black sedan parked in front of the courthouse. She drove the Jeep alongside it and peered in, but saw nothing helpful. She looked around. Several car lengths down and across the street was a truck with white lettering. It offered cover for her smaller vehicle. She pulled in behind it and called Danny again.
"They're here. I've found the car."
After she gave him directions, she glanced at her gas gauge: forty-two miles to empty. She switched off the engine, drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Even though she had nothing to fear from the authorities, she was still scared. She wondered how Kara was doing. If Alex was rocked by the hospital meeting, Kara had to be doubly so: if the FBI frightened Alex, Kara must be terrified.
It was odd, but just as Alex had gotten tired of taking care of everyone else in her family, here she was feeling responsible for a stranger. For a second, she thought about calling Michael. That made her smile. Who was she kidding? She just wanted to hear his voice.
She had pulled out her cell phone when something caught her eye. She scooted down low in her seat and peered over the dashboard. Two men were walking on either side of Kara, heading for the black sedan. Kara looked grim, her lips pressed together as if she held something precious or dangerous in her mouth and was determined it wouldn't escape.
Alex sat up. Maybe she was handling this all wrong. Maybe she should do something.
* * *
Kara knew it was close to eleven o'clock. The agents said they would drive her home. Just as they reached the car, Agent Boyd, palm on the door handle, turned to her. "Ms. Lawrence, the thing to remember tomorrow is to act natural, get him into a conversation about the deliveries. He trusted you enough to make the drops. He'll talk. We'll do the rest."
"What if he doesn't? Do you still keep your end of the deal?"
"You're a smart woman." He opened the door. "I'm sure you'll succeed."
Anything could go wrong—she could get tongue-tied and not get the words right; he might figure it out; the equipment could fail. Then she would have betrayed him for nothing. Her friends, her family—they would all still be in jeopardy.
* * *
From across the street, Alex watched them. What was there to fear? She threw her door open, hopped out, and ran across the street toward them.
"Excuse me," she said in as natural a voice as she could pull off. "I'm here to pick up my sister." To Kara she said, "Your lawyer is waiting for you and he said to bring you directly to him." She swung back to the agents, curls swishing across her back and falling into her face. "Alexandra Lawrence," she introduced herself. "Nice to meet you, but we have to go." She grabbed Kara's hand.
One of them stared her down, but Alex kept talking, walking backward away from them, Kara in tow. "Is she under arrest or something? Otherwise, we'll just take our leave."
Alex co
uldn't believe she was doing this. Her mouth felt dry.
The man stared at Alex but addressed Kara: "Nine a.m. tomorrow, Ms. Lawrence. We'll pick you up."
The two agents got in the car and slammed their doors behind them. Kara and Alex watched them drive off.
"Are you okay?"
Kara, her eyes glassy, said, "No."
"Come on. I'll drive you home."
Alex felt light-headed as they walked to her Jeep. She'd always waited for the light to turn green before crossing, even if no cars were coming; she passed only on the left, never kept library books past the due date.
Danny's Toyota came diagonally toward them, crossing several empty traffic lanes.
"Danny's here?"
"I called him."
They stopped and watched Danny pull up and leap out of the car. He was dressed in civilian clothes, his leather jacket unzipped. Alex could tell what Kara saw in him as he jogged over, athletically graceful, his angular face and even features quite handsome.
Alex said, "Hey, Danny, thanks for coming. I changed the game plan, I guess."
He didn't respond or even look at her; he was staring at Kara.
"I came as fast as I could," Danny said to Kara. His breath made a cloud in front of his face. "You doing alright?"
Kara was clearly glad to see him. She nodded yes, even though she was a mess.
With his right hand, he brushed away the hair that the wind had blown in her face. "You seem kinda shaky," he said in his late-night-radio voice.
"I'm okay." The March wind continued to dishevel her hair.
"What did they say to you?" Alex asked. She blew into her cupped hands to warm them.
Danny said, "Let's get out of the street, it's freezing. We can talk in my car."
"It's late," Kara said.
It was. Alex felt exhausted. "We just want to help."
* * *
This was such a new experience for Kara. Both Alex and Danny knew some of her secrets; in fact, Alex knew just about all of them. Instead of her world coming unglued, however, it actually had a chance, maybe, to get better. They were willing to go out of their way to help her. "Thank you both for everything."
Getting It Right Page 19
