by Jeff Abbott
“I don’t care about that right now,” Perri said. “Was there any other place Brent went?”
“He went to Houston once—I had an associate of mine follow him from the airport there, but it was a meeting with an investor. Then once he went alone, here, to a marriage counselor. Alone. You know, like maybe asking if he needed to get counseling, which I could have told him yes for free. That was it.”
“All right…”
“Oh. Yes. Because I had to cut it. He went to your family’s lake house.”
“To see my husband?”
“No. Alone.”
The kids. The kids had gone to the lake house, according to Jane’s account of that night. “And he did what?”
“Walked around it. There was a satellite dish off the roof he looked at. He seemed to be waiting. Then a man came. I didn’t know who he was, but anything connected to Cal wasn’t to go into the file. The lake house was his, so I didn’t take notes to put into the report. They talked, briefly, and then they both left.”
“Who was this man?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t take a picture?”
“No. It wasn’t to go into the file.”
“Do you remember the license plate, the car?”
“No.”
“You said you took those spreadsheets from Brent.”
“I broke into his office once. The spreadsheets were there, on his desk, along with some notes in his wife’s handwriting. I know it was hers because she wrote me checks. I made copies of both.”
“What was in her handwriting?”
“A long web address, very random. Like the kind you wouldn’t ever accidentally type. And some code. I think it must have been to access something on the web.”
“Did you try?”
“Yes. I got a ‘denied permission’ page. Got no farther. And then after I got that money and gave it to my parents, I didn’t ask questions about Brent Norton anymore. And you and I never had this conversation, Mrs. Hall. I need to go tend to my dad now. He gets confused.” He got up to go inside. “I would leave this alone. Nothing points to any crime, except someone bribed me to stay quiet, and what’s done is done. You might not like where an answer leads you.”
He shut the door on her as she sat unmoving on his porch.
The lake house. Kamala had gone there; the kids had gone there; and Brent Norton had gone there. Something was there, the key to all this.
52
KEVIN TEXTED JANE: I am still to meet your mother at her charity office; closed today, so will be private. Please remember everything that has happened is for the best.
Jane had the photo of her mother and Cal. She had, in her pocket, the other scraps that came from her father’s file: the paper with the long-coded numbers and letters that seemed to lead to a hidden website, the folded spreadsheets. She didn’t know what they meant, but she was going to give them to Trevor to keep for her, in case this went wrong. Because they could not be explained, they had to be part of the explanation of the mystery that lay at the center of her life. Her mother had loved her, and taken care of her, and written about her in ways she wished she hadn’t, but now Laurel had lied to Jane, and the truth had to be brought to light.
Trevor picked her up a bit before two. He was in jeans and a dark T-shirt that was tight on his strong frame, and the shirt said SECURITY in big yellow letters on the front; he wore dark glasses. He did look intimidating. But he greeted her with a smile. A big, slightly goofy smile. Like the world might be OK.
“You took being my badass sidekick seriously,” she said.
“I worked as a bouncer on Sixth Street for about ten minutes, but I’m not really a night person,” he said.
They parked across the street from her mother’s office. Her mother’s car and another car were already there. “Is that car Kevin’s?” he asked.
“I guess.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“Yes.”
“This is kind of personal, Jane. If you decide you want me to leave, to have privacy with her…”
“I know. But she loves her audience. This time I pick the audience.”
“This is going to be brutal if your mom tells him to write up commitment papers.”
“I’ve had a lot of brutal in the past week. It’s about to get brutal for her.” I don’t know if I can do this. What am I suggesting to my mom? That she had an affair and then my dad died? In an accident or suicide or…? She couldn’t think that next, inevitable thought. She couldn’t. She felt feverish, sick. But it would have to be done.
They walked toward the office. She didn’t know why but she reached out for Trevor’s hand. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.
She stepped into the office. Her mother stood in her private office’s doorway, Kevin sitting in a chair, looking miserable…and two large men in suits and sunglasses, hands folded in front of them, waiting like sentinels.
Jane laughed in disbelief.
“My apologies, Jane,” Kevin said. “I had to tell her.”
Her mother gave her a pitying smile. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry about this.”
“About what?” Jane said.
“Trevor, please excuse us. This is a family matter,” Laurel said.
“He’s staying,” Jane said.
“Trevor,” Laurel said. “Please go. I won’t ask again.”
“Jane wants me here,” Trevor said. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Norton, but no.”
Laurel looked at the two men, jerked her head toward Trevor. Both men quickly moved forward and grabbed Trevor by the arms. As big as he was and even with his Security shirt, these guys were bigger and professional, and Trevor was hustled out quickly into the parking lot.
“Mother,” Jane said.
“This is for your own good.”
“What? Bribing a psychologist to lie to me? Manhandling my friend?”
“Jane. You are not getting better. I can’t let you lead your life this way. Adam can’t keep you in his dorm room and you’ve said repeatedly you won’t live at home, so I had no choice. Kevin and Adam are both willing to testify as to you being a danger to yourself.”
Wait, what. “Adam?”
“Yes.”
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“He will.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure he’s thrilled about your renewed friendship with Trevor.”
That felt like a fist in her stomach. Adam’s former girlfriend, Bettina, was right; she had misread her relationship with Adam, and what he wanted from it. And now he was getting his revenge for her not feeling the same way. She looked at Kevin. “Do you hear her?”
“Jane. Listen. What you’re doing is dangerous. It’s very hard for people to accept responsibility. To accept the blame of others. What you’re doing…”
“What I’m doing?”
“It’s a very nice facility. You’ll thrive there. You’ll remember more.” Kevin tried to smile.
“I am remembering,” she said, to see what reaction she got. “I’m remembering more and more.”
“Then the hospital will help you process it,” Laurel said.
“Mom, this isn’t the nineteen fifties, this won’t work. I’m lucid.”
“You’re a homeless amnesiac tied to arson and burglary.” She stated this as if it pained her. She would be convincing to anyone that asked. “You’ll be safe there.”
“Tied to arson? No. I was in Adam’s room the night those houses burned.”
“Adam now says you took his car. It’s in the commitment papers Kevin has drafted.” Her voice was steady with the lie. It would make a good impression on a judge or a doctor.
Kevin said, “We know about you making Internet threats, Jane. The Liv Danger persona.”
“That’s not me!” The world, closing in on her like a collapsing building. Wouldn’t a judge have to sign those? Wouldn’t someone else have to examine her? Or how much had her mom greased the right palms? “Why are yo
u doing this?” Her voice rose.
“To save you.”
“No. It’s for your book you want to write. I’m just the supporting player. I thought I was your daughter. I’m just a damn prop in your life.”
The jab about the book scored a hit—Jane saw her flinch—but Laurel kept her composure. “That’s so unfair.” She looked at Kevin as if he would agree.
“So what, you’re going to prosecute me? Tell the police these lies?”
“No. If you cooperate, I won’t say a word to the police, and neither will Kevin.”
“How long am I supposed to stay there, Mom?” Her voice broke. Her life, slipping into a grayness, much darker than the limbo she’d let herself fall into. “What, until you and Cal get married?”
Her words were like a shove. Laurel actually stepped back.
“Excuse me,” Kevin murmured, going out the front door.
“That’s a lie,” Laurel said.
“I have a picture.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do. You and Cal, kissing. Dad was still alive.”
“You’re lying.”
“I stole it from Randy Franklin’s files.”
Her mother’s mouth trembled. “So I can add burglary to your list of misdeeds when we arrive at the hospital.”
“Go ahead. Did Dad know?”
“Jane, I have never—”
“If you deny this one more time, Mom, I actually will go insane and turn on you. Stop. Lying.”
Laurel took a deep breath. “All right.”
“Did Dad know?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Did it make him depressed or suicidal, finding out that you were cheating on him with his business partner and next-door neighbor?” She said the words like they were hard punches.
“That wasn’t my fault. His death was an accident.”
“You’re paying off Kevin, you’re encouraging Adam, why stoop to this? Why do you need me tucked away?”
“Can you not trust me?” Her voice cut to a whisper. “It’s for your own good.”
“Mom.” She could show her the papers from Franklin’s file. And have them promptly taken away by these hired goons. Her plan fizzled into nothingness.
The door opened and one of the men came back in. “Are we ready, Mrs. Norton?”
“What?” Jane screamed. “I’m not going anywhere with you all.”
Laurel said, “Jane. Don’t resist. These men are here to protect you and to make sure you safely reach the hospital.”
“Where am I going?”
“It’s a very nice hospital in the Hill Country. Chic, even. Like a spa.” The excitement she tried to add to this announcement was the most ghastly thing Jane had ever heard.
“And when do I get out of this spa?”
“When the doctors say you’re well enough. Let’s not prolong this. Let’s not make it ugly. I need you to trust me. Give me your phone.”
Jane did. Her fingers brushed the papers folded in her jeans pocket. She hadn’t yet given them to Trevor.
But then the man reached for her and Jane raised a warning finger at him; he brought his hand back and just opened the door for her. He gestured, almost gallantly, for her to step outside. In the parking lot, Adam Kessler stood next to Kevin, arms crossed, upset and defiant, and Trevor sat on the asphalt, hands into fists, the other man standing over him.
“You need to agree, or it will get ugly. You don’t want these two men beating up Trevor.” Her mother said this to her from behind Jane, her voice a harsh whisper.
“He’ll go to the police.”
“And we’ll all say he interfered with your removal to the hospital. I’ll file charges. This is happening, and it’s for your own good, his own good. For everybody’s good.”
What did that even mean?
“Just get in the car, Ms. Norton,” one of the men said.
“Jane, I did this for you,” Adam called to her. She showed him her middle finger.
“Jane?” Trevor stood. “Jane?”
“It’s OK, Trevor,” Laurel called. “It will all be OK. We will take good care of her.”
Four steps from the car she thought, No. They are not going to lock me up, even if it’s a spa, they are not. They are not. Not when she’d come this far. She grabbed her mother and shoved her into the guard and sprinted the other way. One of the men tried to intercept her and Trevor tackled him, both of them landing in the oil stains of the parking lot, the man howling as the side of his face scraped the pavement.
Jane ran. She ran down the hillside that led to one of the winding creeks that threaded through Lakehaven. These always flooded during the spring rains, but now, in the autumn, it was shallow and cold and choked with leaves. She ran and then saw one of the men chasing her. She didn’t know where the other one was.
Don’t, Trevor, don’t fight them.
She started scrambling up a hill between the office park and a nearby road, the incline thick with oaks and cedars, slowed by the steepness. The man was gaining on her, calling, “Don’t do this, Jane, don’t. We are here to help you.”
What if she found someone to help her? All her mother had to do was show the commitment papers Kevin had drafted and all her denials would be worthless.
She ran. And behind her, she heard the crack of a gunshot.
No, no, no. She nearly stopped but she saw the man closing the distance. No, keep going. She went behind the storefronts; there was a Dumpster, another tree-studded hill leading to a park. She couldn’t outrun this guy. She jumped in the Dumpster, closed the lid behind her, covered herself in the gross garbage bags, a couple of which had leaked. She buried herself in the pile. Her cage smelled of rotting food and soiled diapers—one of the storefronts was a toddler learning center—and she held her breath. She could hear footsteps going past the Dumpster. She stayed still, barely breathing, fighting the urge to cough and gag.
Footsteps coming back. The lid being raised. She felt the weight of a bag landing on top of the bags that covered her.
“Can I help you?” a man’s voice asked. Different than that of her pursuer.
“I’d like to look in your Dumpster. There’s a young woman who may be hiding in there.”
“And why?”
“She’s being committed to a mental health facility and she ran from us.”
“You got some ID?”
“The family hired me.”
“You don’t have any ID from a hospital or nothing?”
A slow beat of silence. “No.”
“Well, look, she ain’t in here. I just threw in a ton of garbage. No one’s in there.”
She couldn’t see, she did not dare move. The silence stretched and stretched. The lid fell.
“If you see her…” the pursuer began.
“If I see someone, I’ll call the police. Thank you.”
She waited. Waited. It felt like a grave. He could come back, wait for her, drag her to a car and now she’d really look ill, the woman who’d covered herself with garbage. She counted to a thousand, disciplined and measured, then finally she crawled out from the Dumpster. She shivered. She wanted to head back to the parking lot, to know that Trevor was safe, that her mother was all right, because as mad as she was at her mother, there had been a gun fired. Which might bring the police.
But she didn’t hear a siren. She crept back through the woods toward the parking lot, thinking, This is stupid, they’ll catch you. She splashed a trickle of cold water from the creek onto her soiled face. She climbed back toward the lot, ready to retreat again.
They were all gone. Except Adam, who was sitting on the hood of his car texting. He stared at her.
She walked up to him. “Thanks for selling me out.”
“Your mother is worried about you. And you smell like crap.”
“There was a gunshot…”
“Oh, did you come back to see if Trevor was all right?” he asked sarcastically.
“Adam, don’t. I was worried a
bout everyone.”
“Trevor was the one with the gun, genius.”
“What?”
“Trevor had a gun and it went off when the guy took it from him. He unloaded it and gave the gun back to Trevor but not the ammo and then told him to leave or they’d call the police on him.”
“Where is my mom?”
“With the guards and your doctor, looking for you. They’re in three different cars. I expect one of them will roll back through here at any moment.”
Now her gaze met his. “If you care about me so much, why didn’t you tell me and why would you do this to me now?”
Ten seconds ticked by in silence. Finally he said, “Why didn’t you let me be the one there for you? Trevor walks back in and wow, all of a sudden, he’s the hero. Not me. You need me until you don’t, then you throw me aside for a dumb jock.”
She could hardly keep her voice steady, she was so rocked by his betrayal. “You have been my dear friend, and I never meant to make you think otherwise. Trevor and I were involved. Really, really involved. Before the accident.”
Adam’s face blanched.
“And I don’t know if the memories of how I felt about him are coming back, or I just like him now as a friend, but he had things that only he could tell me about that night. Me turning to him for help wasn’t a rejection of you. I can’t reject you if I don’t know how you feel about me.”
Adam turned away. She turned his face back toward her. She wanted to slap him, but she couldn’t. She needed his help, so she forced her anger down.
“If you want to help me, really help me, help me get out of here. I think I know how to find out what happened that night. Or you can continue to act like a complete jackass who only pretends to care about me.”
He stood up a little straighter. “Get in the trunk of my car.”
“I don’t trust you that far.”
“You’re not going to stink up my car.”
“I want you to take me to Trevor’s.”
He shook his head. “That’s a bad idea. I heard one say they were going to follow him, because you might go to his house.”
How can I trust you? she thought. It’s not like I have a ton of options. “OK.” Then she told him where to go.
“Why there?”
