Someone Must Die

by Sharon Potts

  “Have you seen Kevin?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “They’d already left for their hotel by the time I arrived.” He put the handkerchief back in his pocket. “But I spoke to the FBI agent in charge. Special Agent Smolleck. I’m glad they’ve been brought in so early.”

  “Yes. Me, too.” She didn’t share her negative impression of the FBI agent with him. Maybe Smolleck’s arrogance would be a good thing in getting Ethan back quickly.

  “Smolleck told me they’ve set up a couple of phone lines for tips,” her father said. “They’ve got some geek coordinating with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, to get the word out on Facebook and other social media.”

  “I’m glad you were able to get him to fill you in,” she said.

  “Well, it wasn’t easy. He was more interested in asking me questions, but I’ve always had a knack for getting people to talk to me. At least most people.” He searched her eyes. “I’ve missed you, Princess.” It had been his nickname for her. His Sleeping Beauty princess, though she had never understood why he called her that. Now it occurred to her that he had always known she was closing her eyes to what was around her. “I’ve missed you and me.”

  She looked away. He was tugging on her heart, the way he always did, but she was wary of being taken in by his charm once again. “What else did he tell you?” she asked.

  Her father let out a soft sigh. “Well, the good news is that the FBI moves very quickly in these situations. They’re evaluating all contingencies, though I’m not sure I necessarily agree with the direction they’re going. They’ve given the immediate family polygraphs.”

  Aubrey wondered if that’s where her mother was—taking a lie detector test. “No one in the family would have taken Ethan,” she said.

  “Of course no one in the family is involved,” he said. “The polygraph is a routine procedure. The FBI also has a mapping tool for sex offenders.”

  “Oh, God,” she said. “They think Ethan was abducted by a sex offender?”

  “No, no,” he said quickly. “Not necessarily. That’s just another angle they’re pursuing.”

  “Did he tell you anything else?” she asked.

  “He didn’t, but one of the detectives informed me they brought in bloodhounds last night and searched the entire carnival area. They got his scent from his New York Mets baseball cap.” He stopped, as though realizing this was his grandson he was talking about. He cleared his throat and continued. “Behind the fun house was a dumpster the dogs were interested in.”

  The sun pierced her eyes, sending sharp pains to the back of her head. “What did they find?”

  “A paper napkin,” he said. “They’re analyzing it for prints.”

  “It could have been something he used while he was with Mama.”

  “Yes.”

  Or it could have the kidnapper’s prints.

  She stared at the fountain, the water barely dribbling into a basin that was green with algae.

  “Then they took the dogs outside the carnival area to search for his scent,” her father continued. “But other than in the parking lot, the dogs didn’t pick up anything beyond the carnival grounds.”

  Aubrey considered this. “So it’s unlikely Ethan wandered off by himself.”

  Her father nodded.

  The significance of this hit her. The possibility that this was all a false alarm and that Ethan would miraculously appear, safe and sound, was now gone.

  She didn’t want to say it aloud, but she knew that denying the facts could hurt rather than help Ethan. “And since Ethan didn’t simply vanish, someone must have picked him up and taken him away, probably in a car.”

  “That’s what they’re thinking,” he said.

  Her mother shouldn’t be alone.

  “I have to find Mama.” She stood up and started back toward the house.

  “She was negligent, you know.”

  The hardness in his voice stopped her. Aubrey turned to face him, anger warming her cheeks. “No, she wasn’t. She lost him in the fun house. It could have happened to any parent or grandparent.”

  “That doesn’t excuse her.”

  “Maybe not completely, but what happened wasn’t her fault.”

  “You sound just like her defense attorneys.”

  She clenched her jaw and thought about the malpractice lawsuit and trial that had consumed her mother for much of the last two years. No doubt her father had read the transcript.

  “And her lawyers were right,” she said. “It wasn’t Mama’s fault. The little boy fell off the monkey bars. There was no indication of a brain hemorrhage when she examined him. The expert testimony confirmed she had been as thorough as any other physician would have been.”

  “Nonetheless, a little boy died. If your mother had taken a few more precautions, maybe that child would still be alive.”

  The unspoken words hung between them. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t have gone missing.

  “You’re using hindsight,” Aubrey said. “And why are you being such a bastard and bringing it up now? Why are you hitting Mama while she’s down?”

  “My grandson is missing.”

  “Yes. And Ethan’s her grandson, too. She loves him, too. We all love him. But instead of being supportive, you attack her.” She was breathing hard. “What’s wrong with you? You used to be loving and caring, but I don’t know you anymore. I haven’t recognized you in eight years.”

  “When are you going to stop defending her?” he asked.

  “When are you going to stop blaming her?”

  And she stormed away, through the thick grass, out of the sharp sun, and back into the shadows, more determined than ever to get to her mother’s side.

  CHAPTER 5

  She deserved to be blamed. A grandmother who’d lost her own grandchild. But would blaming herself bring Ethan home safely?

  Diana was shaken as she stepped outside her small home office where the FBI was conducting interviews with the family members. The agent’s questions had felt like personal attacks, opening old wounds and reminding her how tenuous her hold on happiness was. Questions about her relationship with Kevin and his family, with her ex-husband, and about her recent engagement to Jonathan Woodward and his possible Supreme Court nomination. Then more questions about the Coles and the malpractice lawsuit.

  She had answered as honestly and completely as she could, understanding that someone in her life—or something she may have done to someone—could be behind Ethan’s kidnapping. But she’d felt the implied blame behind the agent’s questions and wondered, How far back would the FBI dig to try to find a motive?

  She wandered through the downstairs rooms, a stranger in her own home. And so completely alone.

  Had Aubrey arrived?

  She wanted very much to see her daughter, but also felt guilty about putting her through this, too.

  She glanced into the family room at the makeshift command post. There was no sign of the detectives who’d been keeping her informed about their progress. The FBI was monitoring her cell-phone and e-mail activity, as well as those of Kevin, Kim, and Kim’s parents. She wondered whether anyone had received a ransom demand. That was looking like their best hope—that Ethan had been taken for money. And the Simmers were the likely target because of their wealth and public visibility.

  Of course, that was no excuse for losing him, in their eyes or in hers.

  In the kitchen, the coffeemaker was on, the coffee burned down to the dregs. She turned the machine off. Plastic cups and Styrofoam containers with sandwich crusts and uneaten salad had been abandoned on the scratched wood countertops. She gathered them up and dumped them in the garbage beneath the sink. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten, but she had no appetite.

  She glanced up at the photo of her mother as a young woman on a shelf beside the brass Sabbath candleholders she’d brought on her journey to America. Her mother had escaped the Holocaust, but her parents and older siblings had not.

&nb
sp; Diana pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched her mother’s face. Please watch over our precious Ethan and keep him safe, she prayed.

  She turned from her mother’s large, sad eyes. On the table was a pile of mail someone must have brought in. She picked it up and started to sort through the letters, just to have something to do. The envelopes had already been slit open. But why? Then she realized the FBI had probably gone through the mail, checking for a ransom note.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, she was hit with such a powerful wave of exhaustion she could barely remain standing. During her residency, she had sometimes gone without sleep for forty-eight hours or more, but she’d never felt like this.

  She hadn’t slept since Saturday, the night before last, when the Simmers had dropped Ethan off. She’d lain awake much of that night, listening for sounds coming from Kevin’s old room, where her grandson slept in his father’s bed, surrounded by posters of hobbits and Middle-earth, Kevin’s obsession all through his teens. But Ethan hadn’t awakened.

  She could only pray he’d slept soundly last night, too, wherever he’d been. That whoever had taken him—because by now it was clear that Ethan had been taken—would be gentle with her grandson.

  She held the mail with one hand, and clinging to the banister with the other, went upstairs.

  Aubrey’s bedroom door was open. Diana’s heart sped up. Aubrey was here. Her winter coat lay across the white bedspread, and her unopened suitcase sat near the foot of the bed.

  But she wasn’t in her room.

  Diana felt a powerful letdown.

  Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe Ethan was asleep in his father’s bed.

  She took a few running steps and opened the door to Kevin’s room. Ethan’s little suitcase still on a chair, a pair of red sneakers on the floor, the sweatshirt he’d worn at breakfast then discarded before they’d left for the carnival, lying inside out on the bed.

  But no Ethan.

  She held her hand over her heart and sank onto the bed. On the wall across from her was Kevin in cap and gown. It was his high school graduation photo, which he never would have agreed to keep in his room with his favorite posters. But he had gone off to Dartmouth, so she’d hung the photo and occasionally sat here, not quite over her guilt for missing his graduation. Wondering whether Kevin had forgiven her for choosing a critically ill patient over him.

  At the time, she’d been certain her son would understand, but something in his cool manner when she joined the family after he’d already received his diploma had told her she had failed him—that she’d been failing him for a long time.

  Then, she had messed up yet again when she was unable to be at his wedding.

  He stared back at her now with dark, solemn eyes.

  It was how he’d looked at her last month, right after Christmas, when she’d flown up to New York, to see him for the first time in eight years and meet her grandson.

  She had taken a taxi to her son’s Manhattan apartment from La Guardia, surprised to find him waiting for her in the lobby of his building. They hadn’t hugged, just greeted each other formally, which tore at her heart. He said he wanted to talk to her before they went up to see Kim and Ethan. After leaving her luggage with the doorman, they crossed over to Central Park and sat on a bench beneath a bare tree, surrounded by piles of dirty snow and wet, brown leaves.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me back into your life.”

  Kevin looked away, his lower lip trembling. Her little prince. He would always be her little prince, no matter what.

  “I’m sorry about what happened,” she said. “My illness, your wedding. Please believe me that I never did anything to deliberately hurt you.” She reached for his hand.

  He continued to gaze across the park in the direction of Belvedere Castle, where she had fallen in love with his father. But Kevin didn’t know about that, or about all the difficult things they had shared, so he couldn’t possibly understand the extent of her devastation when Larry left her for another woman.

  Kevin turned back to her, his eyes dark and serious. “I told Kim that Ethan should have all his grandparents in his life. She may be a little aloof toward you at first, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. The most important thing is that you and Ethan get to know each other.”

  Diana didn’t know why Kevin and Kim had agreed to forgive her, and it wasn’t important. All she cared about was having her son back, getting to know his wife, and most of all, having her grandson in her life.

  Over the next few days, the four of them went to museums and plays, and ice skating in Rockefeller Center beneath the magnificent Christmas tree. She and Kim, and sometimes Kevin, took Ethan to his karate and gymnastics classes. Ethan called her “Grandma,” and even Kim laughed and seemed at ease around her. When Diana asked whether Ethan could spend a few days with her in Miami, they agreed. Kevin thought it would be cool for his son to sleep in his old room and to see the park where he’d learned to play ball.

  “Kim is nervous about Ethan staying with you,” Kevin told her privately. “But I reassured her. You’re his grandmother, and I know Ethan will be safe with you.”

  And she had let him down.

  “I’m sorry, Kevin,” she said to the photo.

  She left the bedroom and closed the door. Barely able to stand, she used the wall for support to get to her own room and collapsed on her bed, dropping the mail beside her. The room began spinning, and she was reminded of the dreadful teacup ride, the turning barrel in the fun house, and those even-worse times when vertigo had taken over her life. She shifted onto her side and shut her eyes.

  She was jarred by soft ringing. Her cell phone. This could be the ransom demand they’d been waiting for. But why call her and not the Simmers? She fumbled in her pocket for the phone, hand trembling.

  Caller ID showed it was Jonathan.

  She sat up against the pillows and answered, disappointed this wasn’t the break in Ethan’s ordeal but comforted to hear her fiancé’s gentle voice.

  “Am I catching you at a bad time?” he asked. “Are you with the FBI agent?”

  “No, I’m in my bedroom.”

  “Oh, gee. You’re resting. I should have waited for you to call me, but I’ve been very anxious about you, darling.”

  “I’m glad you called.”

  “Any news?”

  “No. Nothing yet.” She blinked away the fuzziness in her brain. “How’s the vetting going?”

  “It’s going, but I can hardly think about that right now.”

  “You have to, Jonathan. I know how much the nomination means to you.”

  “It doesn’t mean as much to me as you do. Say the word and I’ll fly home. I can’t stand being here in DC while you’re going through this alone.”

  “You’re an angel, but Aubrey’s here. I’ll be okay. I don’t want you turning your world upside down for me.”

  She could hear him breathing, as though he were weighing what he was about to say next. “You are my world, Diana. We don’t need to wait until we’re married to lean on each other.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. This was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted him to come back. She needed to be strong on her own. But she was also concerned about dragging him into the national spotlight when he was already being scrutinized. The FBI agent had been curious about Jonathan and even suggested there could be some connection between his possible nomination and Ethan’s disappearance.

  If the press picked up on that, it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

  “I love you, Jonathan. So very much. But if you come to Miami, I’m afraid it will turn Ethan’s disappearance into a national media event. Everyone will wonder whether they want a Supreme Court justice with so much personal drama in his life. First, his fiancée is accused of being responsible for a child’s death out of negligence, then she loses her own grandson.”

  “You know I would never put my career ahead of my family.”

  “That’
s the point. You won’t put yourself first, which is why I need to protect you right now. You deserve to be on the Supreme Court. The country needs people like you. I won’t allow you to jeopardize that.”

  He released a sigh.

  “I’m holding up for now, but if that changes, I’ll call you. I promise.”

  “I don’t like it, but I’ll do as you ask,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, my darling.”

  She ended the call but held the phone against her chest. Jonathan had become her rock. They had met two years before, introduced at a Columbia University alumni event by the attorney who’d been handling her malpractice lawsuit. The eminent Judge Jonathan Woodward had recently moved back to Miami, his birthplace, after his appointment as circuit-court judge for the Eleventh District. They’d begun dating shortly thereafter, and then more seriously a few months ago, once the malpractice trial was over.

  Jonathan had been supportive throughout, especially when her medical partners had hinted that she should consider retiring. A number of patients had lost confidence in their practice and had moved to other pediatricians. Jonathan had helped her through her initial anger and to the realization that the patients weren’t the only ones who’d lost confidence. She had begun second-guessing many of her own diagnoses, to the point where she was barely functional. Leaving the practice three months ago had probably been the best thing for her as well.

  The weight of her phone pressed against her heart. She’d fallen in love with him unexpectedly. She’d gotten the flu and could barely get out of bed. He had stayed with her against her protests, holding her hair back when she vomited into the toilet, cuddling against her when she shook with chills, feeding her spoonfuls of soup he’d made from a package.

  Call him back. Tell him you need him. Don’t let your pride keep you from seeking comfort.

  She picked up the phone, her finger poised to call him.

  “Mama,” said the voice in the doorway. “Oh, Mama.”

  Diana dropped the phone, sprang out of bed, and rushed to her daughter. She squeezed Aubrey with all her might. She could smell her daughter’s spicy scent, barely masking twenty-four hours of airports and travel.