She named the street.
“That’s downtown. Only six or seven miles from here....” Santa Raquel wasn’t that big. “It means that she’s close,” he said, taking the seat next to Chantel, turning to look at her as his mind raced in various directions. “She’s never stayed close before when she ran. Does that mean Steve’s not after her? Or that he has her and is holding her someplace close by?”
“She was alone when the cop saw her. Got on the bus alone.”
“Steve could have been watching.”
“Not likely. Why would he let her get on a bus by herself? She could have alerted anyone. Gotten off at any stop.”
“Maybe he was already on the bus.”
“Then why would she get on it? Why not alert the cop when she tripped and he stopped to help her?”
He couldn’t answer that.
“You told me Sunday night that you were at the beach that afternoon,” Chantel said slowly, watching him. “You said Caleb saw her.”
“That’s right. And obviously he did. She knows we go to that beach every Sunday. It was her idea to begin with. She was there to see us, Chantel, I’m sure of it.”
“Then why not wait and say hello?”
“Because Steve had to have been with her. Someplace. He had to have been watching her. Or she was afraid he was.”
“Or maybe she just wanted to make sure that you two were getting along fine without her as she moves on with her life. It’s clear that she loved the two of you, Max. Even if leaving is the right thing to do for her, it still has to be hard. I understand how difficult this is for you, too, Max, but maybe you have to face that it’s you she didn’t want to see.”
“You said she was running for the bus.”
“Yeah.”
“What woman does that unless she’s either late for an appointment or afraid?”
“She was afraid you were going to see her, to force her into a conversation she isn’t ready to have. Or maybe she’d seen what she’d come to see and didn’t want to have to wait around for the next bus.”
Her words made him angry, even while Max knew that she was just doing what he’d asked her to do. Find Meri. Find the truth.
“You don’t know her.”
“Has it occurred to you that you might not know her as well as you thought you did, either?”
Hell, yes, it had occurred to him. Every day since she’d disappeared on him without a word. After promising that she’d do everything she could not to break his heart....
And then he’d climb into their bed at night, smell her perfume on their sheets, her shampoo on her pillow, and careful not to touch either, so they didn’t lose that scent, he’d lie there next to her space and know that whatever Meri was doing, it was because she loved him.
Steve had to have threatened her somehow. He didn’t know how. When. Where. And sure as hell couldn’t explain why she hadn’t wanted him or Caleb to see her. Unless, as he’d thought before, she thought she was somehow protecting them. It didn’t really make sense, not when he knew—and had told her often enough—that his police connections would keep them all safe.
“You have to find her, Chantel,” he said now, more certain than he’d been since Meri had disappeared that she needed him. “She’s in trouble. I know she is.”
“That’s what I’m here to tell you, my friend. We did find her.”
* * *
JENNA WAS ON her way home from walking Renee back to her bungalow Tuesday night when her cell phone rang. She’d already spoken with Yvonne, Olivia’s mother, and knew that the little girl had come through surgery just fine. She’d agreed to meet with the two of them on Thursday at the home of a woman Yvonne had met through work for Olivia’s first therapy session.
And Yvonne didn’t have her cell number.
No one did. Except for Lila.
The managing director wanted Jenna to come to her office.
The other woman’s invitation didn’t include tea. It sounded formal.
With her heart in her throat, Jenna hurried over.
And felt her stomach cramp as she entered the room to find a uniformed police officer standing there.
Something had happened to Max. Or Caleb. They were there to tell her that she’d lost everything in the world that was dear to her....
She felt as if she was going to faint. Sat down. Unable to breathe. And folded her hands together, reminding herself that she wasn’t weak.
And no one knew where she was, or who she was.
The officer looked at a picture in his hand. “Are you Meredith Bennet?” the officer, about forty with graying hair at his temples and a kind expression on his face, asked.
“Has there been an accident?” The words came out on a squeak. She coughed and repeated them. More clearly.
“An accident?”
“Are you here to tell me that....” Her throat was so dry the words wouldn’t come. “Has there been an accident?” she repeated, aware that Lila stood just off to her right, with one hundred percent focus.
“No, ma’am. Not that I’m aware of. Were you in an accident?” the officer asked gently, as though he was proceeding with utmost caution. Sizing up the situation.
And suddenly she was scared to death. Steve had sent this man. He’d found her and this was his way of saying so.
He wasn’t going to wait for her to move out of the shelter this time.
“Jenna...are you Meredith Bennet?” Lila came forward, sat next to her, not touching her, but seeming to hold her up at the same time.
Not that Jenna needed holding. She didn’t. “I’m Jenna McDonald.”
“Yes, I know. But....”
“So you aren’t Meredith Bennet?” the officer said, coming closer. Looming over her.
Lila had a gun. Jenna might be the only resident who knew that, but the woman had told her about it the night she’d been in her apartment. The night she’d told Jenna to get to her if she was ever in trouble—no matter what it took.
And when Jenna had tried to find out why the woman had a gun, to find out anything at all about Lila’s private life, she’d found herself up against a wall of steel.
“Because if you’re not Meredith Bennet, I’m very sorry, ma’am,” the officer continued, backing up a step now. “I didn’t mean to upset you....”
She wasn’t upset.
“Jenna? You’re white as a sheet, dear. Do you feel okay?”
“So you don’t know Dr. Max Bennet,” the officer said, almost at the door.
“What do you know about Max?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. So there had been an accident. Or Max was ill. Or in trouble. It had been two long days since she’d seen her boys healthy and at play....
This wasn’t about Steve.
“You do know Dr. Bennet?” The officer was back again.
“Sir, I think it might be best if you take a seat.” Lila’s voice came from her right. The officer was on her left. And Jenna was scared to death.
* * *
“THANKS, WAYNE.”
Max stood, hands in the pockets of his purple scrubs, picking at the threads there, while Chantel took the call that had just come in on her phone. Presumably her cop friend on the Santa Raquel police force.
The officer who’d discovered earlier that day that a fellow officer had seen Meredith on Sunday. The one who owed Chantel a favor.
He’d spent a couple of hours going over business surveillance footage nearby the stop where Meredith had vacated the bus.
He’d been going to talk to Meredith.
And then call Chantel. Who wouldn’t tell Max where she was.
If she was in a hospital, he’d find out soon enough. As soon as Chantel got off the phone and gave him whatever report she was going to
give him.
He was a respected pediatrician who worked with all of the area hospitals, not only the two in Santa Raquel, but those in surrounding cities, as well. His consultation work took him as far as Los Angeles.
“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Chantel was saying.
Max waited. Staring at the laces in his orange tennis shoes as he rocked back and forth on his toes. The high-tops matched the orange-and-purple dinosaur shirt he was wearing.
Color put kids at ease. Put him at ease, too, truth be told. Because some days weren’t good. Some days he had to cause pain to make things better. And some days even painful treatments couldn’t save a life.
“I will. And yes, lunch sounds great.”
He’d lost a patient that day. A youngster who’d been born premature, had experienced a brain bleed at birth and had suffered permanent neurological damage. The boy had had little chance to survive from the beginning, but he’d hung on for more than two years.
“No, burgers are fine. Really.”
Tommy was at peace. His parents were at peace.
Max still felt as if he’d let them down.
And Chantel was discussing burgers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHANTEL STOOD AS she hung up the phone. With her hands on her hips, hips that looked smaller in the jeans she was wearing than they did in the uniform she’d arrived in the week before, she faced Max toe-to-toe.
“Wayne spoke with Meredith.”
His shoulders sank. Every bit of nervous energy drained out of him, and Max knew a second of sheer relief.
It was only then that he consciously acknowledged that deep down inside he’d been afraid that Steve had killed her—his sweet, beautiful, vulnerable wife.
“Where is she?” he asked as the tension seeped back.
“I can’t tell you,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
“But, obviously, since Wayne had just gotten off duty when he went to see her, she’s still close by.”
Chantel stared at him.
“And she’s okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“I check the hospitals in the area every morning....”
“She’s in no need of a hospital. She’s fine.”
No, she wasn’t. She couldn’t possibly be fine. She wasn’t home.
“Was she alone?”
“No.”
“She’s with Steve.”
“No.”
“She has to be. Maybe not that she’s saying, but I know he’s behind this.”
She wasn’t alone. Thoughts came and went in no apparent order. “Who was she with?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Chantel’s expression, her voice, held more pity than anything else.
If she wanted him to believe that Meri was with another man...that she’d left him for someone else....
“There’s no way you’re going to convince me she’s having an affair....” Not ever. Not Meri. It was just something he knew.
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything, and I have no evidence whatsoever that suggests there’s another man involved here. More that Meredith just wants her freedom.”
“Her freedom.” The words didn’t make sense to him. How did he apply them to the Meri he knew, to the son he and Meri shared, to their marriage? “I didn’t realize she was feeling trapped.” He shook his head. He was not a stupid man. Or an overly spiritual one, either. But he knew his wife.
“What did she say?” He needed Meri’s words. Not an outsider’s interpretation of them.
“She’s using an assumed name,” Chantel said.
Another wave of relief consumed him. With a fear chaser. “It’s Steve,” he said. “There’s no other reason she’d use an assumed name.”
“She has identification under the alternate name, Max. It takes time to get that. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment plan.”
That stopped him. For the moment it took him to remember that his job was to remain calm. “It’s because of Steve. I’m telling you. She knew someone in Vegas, a broker, she called him, who supplied her with identities. He’d been Steve’s snitch at one point, I think. I’m telling you Steve found her and she ran.” Because she didn’t trust him to be able to help her? “Tell me what she said.”
“Wayne asked her if she was Meredith Bennet and she said no. Several times.”
“Who did she say she was?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“But you know.”
“Yes. I asked only so that I could use it as I investigate Steve Smith. If he’s using her assumed name in conjunction with anything he’s doing—the purchase of plane tickets, for instance—I’ll get a hit.”
One thought rang clear in that second. Chantel wasn’t giving up. Because of something she’d heard that she wasn’t telling him?
Or just because he’d asked?
“You’re still looking for Steve.”
“Yes.”
“Because of something Wayne told you?”
“Let’s just say that something that occurred today leads me to believe that while Meri isn’t in danger, it might be good to be certain that Smith hasn’t been in touch with her.”
She knew something she couldn’t tell him. Something pertinent. Her expertise was far beyond his. As was her reach. This was why he’d called her.
Max sat down. He wasn’t going to do anything, ask her anything that would jeopardize her job. Or put pressure on her to tell him things that, ethically, she shouldn’t.
He was scared to death.
“So she never admitted to being my wife?”
“Wayne asked if she knew a Dr. Bennet. He could tell by her reaction that she did. After that, she opened up. She told him that she was your wife. That she was Caleb’s mother. He asked if she was okay. She assured him several times that she was.
“He asked if she needed any help. She insisted that she didn’t.”
It was hard to sit there and listen to that. “Steve had to be within earshot. Maybe he’s got her bugged.” Okay, his imagination might be running a bit wild. “Maybe he was in the other room.”
“I can assure you he was not.”
“But you don’t know whether or not he has her wired. He’s a former cop, Chantel. He’d play it out like a cop.”
Her brown eyes softened and he felt like a stupid kid. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in twenty years.
“I can’t guarantee that she wasn’t wired, no,” Chantel said. “Because she wasn’t searched. But I’d bet my life on the fact that she wasn’t. We have ways of finding out if someone is being coerced,” she said. “In this case, Wayne wrote on a piece of paper, asking her if she was on the run. She shook her head. She was calm, Max.”
“This person she was with, was it a professional?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“But you know.”
“Yes.”
“Is she staying with this person?”
“No.”
“But Wayne knows where she’s staying.”
“Yes.”
“How certain can he be that she’s safe there?”
“As certain as it’s possible to be.”
And he knew.
“She’s at The Lighthouse, isn’t she?”
“No, Max. She’s not. Now, please, stop this. I did as you asked. I found her. I’m certain she’s okay. Leave it at that, okay?”
He had more questions. Too many of them. And needed a few minutes to figure this out. To understand what Meri was doing, what she was trying to tell him.
“She knew that I was behind this evening’s visit?”
“After a time, yes.”
“Did she have a message for me?”
As Chantel’s chin dropped, his gut got hard as rock. His friend looked over at him and he wanted to end the day. To wake up in the morning and start fresh, a married doctor with a two-year-old son and a wife who didn’t want their toddler in day care.
He’d play it differently. He’d tell Meri that she could keep Caleb with her if that was what she wanted. He’d trust her to raise their son into an emotionally healthy young man.
Chantel’s hand covered his, bringing his attention back to her. “She said to tell you that she didn’t need your help, Max. Or ours. She asked that you let her go.”
His chest burned.
And he sat down, a stabbed man with a big gaping wound.
* * *
“I HAVE SOME other news.”
Chantel’s voice broke into Max’s private hell. He’d promised Meri he could handle being married to a woman with an abusive ex in her past. And he wouldn’t put it past Meri to say whatever she thought she had to say for whatever reason she had to say it. She would not have left him, just to get away from him, without telling him. He would bet his life on it.
She would not have left Caleb just to go start a new life.
Something else was going on.
“Max, did you hear me? I have other news.”
Chantel sat down next to him. She was there to help him. He needed her. “What other news?”
“Steve Smith. He quit the force with a perfect record, but I talked to someone today—a person someone else had told me I might want to talk to—and this person intimated that Smith might have quit before his record could be tarnished.”
“He was in trouble?”
“From what I heard, an internal investigation was never opened, there’s no record of anything, but there was talk that one might have been opened if he’d stayed.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m getting this all second-and thirdhand, and cops don’t talk bad about their own to their own, let alone to someone they don’t know.”
“So how do you know there was talk?”
“A daughter of a woman who spoke at a Las Sendas library fund-raiser is a dispatcher in Las Vegas. She asked around.”
“What were you doing at a library fund-raiser?” For a second he was twenty-five again. Sitting in his living room with Jill and Chantel, having a glass of wine to take the edge off long hours at the hospital with no pay.
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