by Sharon Potts
He had never used an accusatory, belligerent tone with her. Of course, she had never confronted him about anything while she was growing up. Maybe because she’d been afraid he would react like this and shatter the already-cracking glass bubble they’d been living under.
She tried to keep her voice even. “Someone has Ethan,” she said. “I’m wondering if you have some idea who, and where Ethan is. And I think someone is playing some kind of sick psychological game. I don’t know why, but maybe you do. I’m worried about Ethan, and I’m worried about you.”
He continued staring at her as a vein pulsed in his neck.
“Please, Dad. If you know, tell me what’s going on. Tell me before Ethan or someone gets hurt.”
He slammed his hand on the coffee table, and the ashtray went flying, crashing onto the terrazzo floor. “Did she put you up to this?” he said, spit coming out with his words.
Aubrey was stunned. She had never known him to get so angry.
“Your mother, did she send you here? All I’ve tried to do these past eight years is make things right with her. To get Kev and Kim to drop their grudge and let her see her grandson. And they finally listened to me. But does your mother ever see the good I’ve done? No. She’s a bitter woman and she wants her revenge.”
“You’re wrong,” Aubrey said, bewildered. “Mama knows nothing about this.”
“I’ll bet she knows nothing,” he snapped. “Columbia? Politics? Why is the FBI asking about that unless she put them up to it? And if she did, she’s a fool, because it will all come back around to her.”
“What do you mean?”
“That, little girl, is something you should ask your dear mother about.”
CHAPTER 15
Heat rose to Aubrey’s cheeks. Never in her childhood had her father yelled at her. Of course, she had practically backed him into a corner, so what did she expect—a pat on the back and a “good job”? Still, she didn’t understand why he was suggesting that Mama had some secret past.
He picked up his glass of wine and froze. She followed his gaze to the front door, where Star stood holding a grocery bag with one arm. Aubrey hadn’t heard her father’s girlfriend come in, but she’d probably been there for a good bit of the argument. It was just like the first time Aubrey had met her years after Kevin’s wedding, when Star had lurked in the shadows before announcing herself. Aubrey again felt a visceral tug of bitterness.
“Hello, Aubrey.” Star crossed to the sofa, moving gracefully in a yellow tunic and flowing pants, like someone who’d practiced yoga for years. “I’m so sorry about Ethan and what your family is going through.” Her soft accent made her sound like she came from southern aristocracy.
Aubrey was far too agitated to have a civil conversation, especially with the woman who had broken up her parents’ marriage and hurt her mother so deeply. She stood. “Thank you, Star. I’m sorry, but I was just leaving.”
“Oh, please don’t go. I ran over to the store to pick up cheese and crackers for us.”
Aubrey glanced at her father. After their quarrel, she was sure he would want her to leave quickly, but he looked sad rather than angry. Maybe once he had some time to absorb their conversation, he would reconsider confiding in her.
“Stay, Aubrey,” he said. “I don’t want you to leave on a bad note.” He got up from the sofa, took the bag of groceries from Star, then went into the kitchen.
She sat back down, partially to appease her father, but she was also curious about this woman and the possibility she’d been involved with Ethan’s disappearance in some way. As she and Mama had discussed, they didn’t know very much about her.
Star took her father’s place on the sofa and folded her hands on her lap. Her nails were short, with pale-pink polish, and there were rings on all her fingers. Aubrey hadn’t seen her since they’d all been in New York for Ethan’s fourth birthday.
She was as attractive and youthful as ever—though she was probably close to Mama’s age, with a similar height and build. She wore her white, wispy hair very short, hugging her scalp. The pixie bangs, arched black eyebrows, and dangling hoop earrings accentuated her large blue eyes, which were doing a quick assessment of Aubrey.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” Star said. She glanced at the broken ashtray on the floor, making no move to pick up the pieces, then looked back at Aubrey. “Any news about Ethan?”
“No. No news.”
Star tugged on one of her earrings. “I hoped the press conference would have shaken loose some leads.”
Aubrey tried to be polite without saying too much. “I believe there have been a number of calls. The FBI is following up on them.”
Her father returned with a tray of cheese and crackers and a glass of wine for Star, then sat down beside her. He didn’t make eye contact with Aubrey. She wondered whether he regretted blowing up at her earlier.
“Thank you, dearest,” Star said, accepting the wine and taking a sip. She held her glass delicately, her pinkie extended. On it was an unusual silver ring that wound up to the lower joint and ended with a garnet stone. Aubrey remembered her father once mentioning Star had a jewelry business and sold her designs to small boutiques.
“How is your mother holding up?” Star asked.
“She’s managing,” Aubrey said.
“She’s lucky to have you. I know you two have always been close.”
“Yes,” Aubrey said. “And I’m happy you’re here for my father.”
Star raised an eyebrow, as though she had picked up on Aubrey’s sarcasm. “That’s very nice of you to say, dear. I’m glad to be able to help organize things so your father can be here for your family. And, of course, I’m very worried about little Ethan.”
Aubrey glanced at her father, who was frowning at her. She’d already gotten his nose out of joint, so she might as well continue asking questions, even if he didn’t like where she was going. “I know you’ve spent some time with Ethan in LA,” she said to Star. “My dad sent me some photos of the three of you together.”
“Oh, yes,” Star said. “I’ve gotten to know Ethan quite well. He’s an engaging little boy. I think of him almost as though he’s my own grandson.”
She wondered whether Star was taunting her, reminding her that all those years Mama had been kept from Ethan, this woman had been in his life. Aubrey tried to keep the anger out of her voice, and asked lightly, “Do you have grandchildren yourself?”
Star seemed taken aback, then said, “I’m afraid I don’t have that blessing.”
“But you have children?”
Star nibbled on a cracker with a piece of cheese. “I do. I have a daughter.”
Aubrey picked up on Star’s discomfort. This was something new. Some skeleton in her closet? “I don’t mean to sound like I’m prying,” Aubrey said. “It’s just that you and my dad have been together for eight years, and we’ve never had a chance to get to know each other.”
Star gave her a little smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s never too late to start.”
“Does your daughter live near you in LA?”
Star took another sip of wine. She could have been thirsty, or she could have been avoiding the question. The air conditioner kicked in with a cough, then made a humming noise.
Her father sat forward on the sofa. “Janice lives in Atlanta, Aubrey,” he said loudly, possibly to be heard over the A/C, but Aubrey picked up an edge of impatience.
“Oh,” Aubrey said. “So you’ve met her, Dad?”
Star put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Larry.” She turned to Aubrey. “Unfortunately, my daughter and I haven’t spoken in years. It’s been very difficult for me, which is why I understand how your mother must have felt being estranged from your brother and his family.” She stood up. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, but I’m feeling a migraine coming on. We haven’t had much sleep, and I imagine you haven’t, either.”
Her father started to stand.
“No, no, don’t get up
, Larry. Talk to your daughter. You get to see each other so infrequently that I’m sure you’d like to catch up.”
Aubrey watched her glide across the terrazzo floor and go into the room that was probably the bedroom.
“So now you think Star is involved?” her father said in a low voice. His arms were folded across his chest. “Because you couldn’t be more wrong.”
“I was just making conversation. You’ve been telling me to get to know her.”
“Star is one of the kindest, most selfless people I’ve ever known,” he said. “Did you know she’s been your mother’s biggest advocate all these years? She’s the one who pushed me to get Kev and Kim to let your mother see Ethan. Star knows how painful it is when your children don’t want you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to come across as if I’m accusing anyone.” Even if Star’s intentions were selfless, it infuriated Aubrey that her father continued to defend her.
She got up to leave. “But I’m going to keep asking questions until we find Ethan. And if you care about him the way you say you do, then you’ll start asking questions, too.”
CHAPTER 16
Diana watched Jonathan pour her a brandy and one for himself. Then he took off his overcoat and sat down beside her on the white-leather sofa.
Her hands trembled as she held the snifter.
“My poor darling.” Jonathan got up, went into the bedroom, and came back with a crocheted afghan Diana had never seen. As he wrapped it around her shoulders, she wondered whether his dead wife had made it. “I should have come sooner,” he said. “There was no need for you to try to deal with this by yourself.”
The lenses on his horn-rim glasses were scratched and pockmarked with age. He was still wearing his suit jacket, though he had loosened his tie. Blue-and-gray stripes.
It was one of the ties she had bought him for the judgeship interviews, because all his old ties were too wide and out of fashion.
He had laughed when she’d given him the box of ties. Thank you, my darling, he’d said. But this is where we draw the line in you trying to change me.
And she had replied, I would never dream of changing you. I love you, even if you are hopelessly outdated.
“Someone wants me to kill you,” she said softly.
He blinked his hazel eyes rapidly and frowned.
“There was a note,” she said. “Someone left it in a greeting card at my house this afternoon. It said that Ethan would be returned unharmed if I killed you.”
“Good God. Have you shown it to the FBI?”
She shook her head. “It said not to tell the authorities or they would kill Ethan.”
His eyes wandered around the room, though he didn’t seem to be looking at anything. His face was paler than usual, the freckles more pronounced. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said finally. “I can understand there are people who would want me dead, but why involve you and Ethan? Why not assassinate me directly?”
She took a sip of brandy, hoping the burn would deaden her nerves. “The only explanation that makes sense is that I’m the primary target. Someone wants to hurt me as deeply as they can by forcing me to choose between two people I love.”
He stared at his glass. Age spots covered his hands, and a few golden hairs grew between his knuckles, which were knobby from arthritis. “Do you think it’s the Coles?”
“Possibly,” she said.
“But how do they know about Ethan? Or about me?”
“They could have been stalking me. Maybe they’ve been watching my house and saw Ethan arrive. And they could have read about our engagement in the profiles that came out after you became a contender for the Supreme Court nomination.” She took another drink. “But there are others who may have motives against both of us.”
“But you just said you believe you’re the extorters’ target.”
“Primary target. We shouldn’t rule out that they may also want to eliminate you.”
“True,” he said. “So who might be out to get both of us?”
“The Simmers?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think they have some grudge against me?”
“You may be a threat to them if you get the nomination.”
Jonathan nodded. “Of course. Baer Business Machines would be hurt by my policy on large corporate mergers.”
She stared at the three crimson paperweights on the coffee table. “But then, there’s also Larry,” she said.
“Your ex-husband? I never got the impression from you that he was vindictive or even jealous.”
“Aubrey believes he could be manipulated by his girlfriend.”
“So Aubrey knows about the note?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you haven’t been dealing with this alone,” he said. “And now you have me as well.” He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “So why do you believe Larry and his girlfriend may be involved?”
“I don’t know very much about Star, which means anything’s possible.”
“And Larry?” His face was full of concern, even though his own life was being threatened. She had to tell him.
“I’m worried this may relate to something that happened back when I was in college,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“April Fool.” She barely managed to get the words out before her throat closed up.
Even after all these years, she couldn’t talk about it, but she didn’t have to.
Jonathan’s eyes widened behind his glasses. He knew the reference to April 1, 1970, the day of the explosion. For anyone who had attended Barnard College and Columbia University back then, April Fools’ Day would never again be thought of as a day for playing silly pranks.
She waited for him to confront her, to ask what she could possibly have done more than forty-five years ago that someone would try to threaten her over today. But Jonathan finished his drink, then went to the bar to refill his glass.
He stood there looking out the sliding glass door, his face thoughtful, as though he were weighing legal arguments. And a ghost passed through her.
What if he knew?
Jonathan had been at Columbia Law at the time. He could have known people, maybe even had some personal connection to April Fool. Some hurt he had hidden from her, waiting for the right moment to mete out revenge. This entire, terrible situation might be his doing.
Was Jonathan her enemy?
No. It wasn’t possible. She would have known if he’d been deceiving her.
Besides, Jonathan would never turn on her. And setting up an ultimatum that involved his own death made no sense. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Fear for Ethan and lack of sleep were making her paranoid.
Jonathan returned to the sofa, sat beside her, and reached for her hand. “You’re still cold.” He ran his fingers against her cheek. “You know I love you very much. If there’s something in your past, I don’t care about it.”
She shivered.
He adjusted the afghan around her shoulders. “You believe me, darling, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, then quickly looked away.
CHAPTER 17
Aubrey left her mother’s car in the dark driveway near the two black sedans, then went in the front door, half expecting Smolleck to be standing in the foyer, arms folded in front of his too-stylish suit, with a “gotcha” expression on his face.
But no one was there.
She listened for sounds coming from the back of the house. No phones were ringing, but the tip calls were probably being routed to the command post the Simmers had established over at the Ritz.
It was almost nine thirty, over thirty hours since Ethan had gone missing. Thirty hours! Because of the ransom note, she believed he was alive, but that didn’t mean he was in a safe place. He was just a little boy. She hoped he wasn’t frightened.
Only a few months ago, Ethan had spent the night at her Providence apartment while Kevin and Kim attended a gala in Newport. Jackson had gone off somewhere fo
r the night, so she and Ethan wouldn’t have to contend with a “third wheel,” or so Jackson had said. Aubrey now realized what he’d really been up to.
She and Ethan had been propped up against pillows in her bed, watching a movie about a kid who was trying to outsmart a couple of bad guys. At one point, the little boy hid in the back of his parents’ car. The bad guys looked for the boy in the car, but didn’t notice him hidden beneath a dog carrier that was wedged behind the driver’s seat.
Ethan had been delighted that the boy had outfoxed them, but later that night, he awoke from a nightmare about the movie and cried for his mother. Aubrey had comforted him, telling him the little boy was safe and that he had been very brave—just like Ethan.
Was someone comforting her nephew tonight when he cried for his mother?
She hurried upstairs. After checking and finding her mother hadn’t gotten back from Jonathan’s, she went to her own room and got out her laptop.
She had a lot to do.
There was a message and attachment from Smolleck. It had been sent to everyone in her family. Smolleck had written:
Please review the attached photos, paying particular attention to people in the background. Let me know if you recognize anyone.
So he had followed up on her suggestion. Her respect for him edged upward. She opened the attachment. There were six photos, taken at the carnival, probably with her mother’s iPhone.
Ethan, in his sky-blue T-shirt with a jumping dolphin, was in all of them.
She enlarged each photo and studied the people in the background crowds, one by one. No one familiar, but she also checked to see whether anyone happened to be looking at Ethan or otherwise appeared suspicious.
She examined the last photo, the selfie of Ethan and Mama.
A woman was standing by a booth facing the camera. She appeared to be frowning at Ethan.
Aubrey enlarged her face until it began to get blurry, then she brought it back into focus. The woman had a pronounced chin, was wearing large sunglasses, and had her wild dark hair pulled back from her face. She looked to be around forty and had something above her bowed lip—a mole or a pimple—Aubrey couldn’t tell.
