And then the last picture Rhys had sent to him. He didn’t show that one to Vera. A cartoon character surrounded by walls of flame. Everything is going to be just fine.
Knowing what he did now, Zachary had a chill at the ominous picture. Where was Rhys? What hell was he going through? Did he know that Gloria had killed Robin? Did he understand why Gloria had taken Bridget? Did he know what was going to happen next?
Zachary had waited patiently for responses from Rhys. He had not wanted to push Rhys away by being too nosy. He had just accepted that Rhys would message him back again when he was comfortable doing so, sending him another amusing picture or cryptic message.
But he couldn’t wait any longer. Zachary tapped the field to enter his own message to Rhys.
Where are you?
He looked over at Kenzie. She inched her chair a little closer to him. “Rhys has been messaging with you?”
“Just twice,” Zachary said, looking down at his phone and willing Rhys to message him back again. “On Monday and on Wednesday.”
“And Wednesday…” Kenzie trailed off.
Zachary nodded.
Vera was watching them, looking troubled. Zachary drew her attention back to the photo album. “Did you ever go somewhere on vacation?” he prompted. “Somewhere you went with the whole family? Or maybe somewhere you and the girls and Clarence went, when they were young? Before Gloria started getting into trouble.”
Vera looked back down at the album. She turned a couple of pages slowly. “We didn’t have a lot of money. There was no Disneyland or anything like that.”
“No,” Zachary agreed. “Maybe a road trip? A cabin in the woods or somewhere Gloria really loved?”
Vera’s expression was vague. Her eyes went over the pictures of Rhys and her daughters. “A cabin?” she echoed. Zachary watched her eyes, trying to read whether she was remembering something or just repeating his words.
Zachary’s phone vibrated in his hand and he looked down at it. There was an answer from Rhys, but again, it was in the form of a picture. Zachary stifled a groan. Rhys was capable of writing a short answer, that’s what Gloria had told him. So why couldn’t he give Zachary a word or two pinpointing his location instead of making him interpret a picture?
“What is it?” Kenzie asked.
“A fish.” Zachary showed it to Vera. “Where would Gloria and Rhys go that there were fish?”
Vera smiled. “Rhys used to love to fish.”
“He used to go with Clarence, didn’t he?” Zachary encouraged. “Where did they like to go?”
“They went lots of different places. There are many good fishing spots around here.”
“Yes, there are,” Zachary agreed. He had never been fishing in his life and had no idea where the popular fishing spots would be. “Did Gloria ever go with them?”
Vera shook her head. “Gloria didn’t like fishing. Neither of the girls did. They were city girls, both of them.”
“They never went somewhere there was also fishing?”
Vera looked blank.
Frustrated, Zachary tapped a message back to Rhys.
Need more. Want to help but don’t know where u r.
Zachary pictured Rhys, hunched over his phone in some McDonalds or somewhere else with public wifi, pretending he was playing a game while Gloria ordered their dinner. Or closeted in a bathroom out of her sight, with only a few minutes to get his message to Zachary.
The phone vibrated. Zachary stared at the picture of Snoopy from the Peanuts comic strip. Smiling and dancing with his feathered friends.
“Come on, Rhys,” he murmured. “I’m not getting it. Kenzie, can you think of anything? Vera?”
He showed the picture to each of them. Vera smiled and said “Snoopy!”
“Does Snoopy mean anything? Did Rhys go somewhere with Snoopy as a kid? Did he have a Snoopy toy? A dog? A beagle?”
“No. We never had a dog, though Rhys has always liked them. We couldn’t have one; Robin was allergic.”
Vera’s forehead wrinkled and she looked to the side, giving off clear signals she was lying. She reached for her tea and Zachary again guided her hands to make sure she was steady with it. Though it was cooling now and would only be uncomfortable if she spilled it.
“Robin wasn’t allergic to dogs,” he said.
Vera’s lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. Kenzie looked at Zachary. “How do you know that?”
“Because she wasn’t, was she?” Zachary directed it back at Vera again, who shook her head and didn’t fill in the rest of the details. “But maybe it was Robin that prevented you from having a dog even though Rhys loved them.” He searched her eyes. “Did Robin not like dogs, so Rhys couldn’t have one? Or maybe you were afraid she would hurt a dog. You couldn’t get one in case it got underfoot and Robin hurt it. It was hard enough keeping track of Rhys and keeping him out of her way.”
Vera looked at Zachary in dismay. Zachary pursued it, not because he wanted to hurt her, but because he had to figure out where Gloria had gone with Rhys.
“Was there a place they would go to get a dog? If Gloria decided it was okay to have a dog now that Robin wasn’t around anymore, was there a farm or supplier that they might have gone to?”
“No.”
“Rhys never had a dog? Even for a few days? A stray he had to get rid of?”
“No,” Vera insisted. “We never had any animals. It just wouldn’t have been good. Things upset Robin. Things irritated her. Animals… you can train a dog, but you can’t make sure it never does anything to irritate her”
“What do you think of when you look at this picture?” Zachary showed it to them each again. “Snoopy… happy… dancing…”
“Peanuts, Charlie Brown,” Kenzie contributed. “Charles Schultz. Chuck.”
“Flying, birds,” Vera said, getting into the spirit of things. “Yellow. Flapping. Woodstock.”
“Woodstock!” Zachary said. “That’s it. That’s gotta be it. Did Rhys or Gloria ever go to Woodstock?”
“The music festival?” Kenzie asked, puzzled.
“No. Woodstock, New Hampshire.” Zachary looked at Vera. “Did any of you ever go to Woodstock, New Hampshire?”
“Rhys went fishing there with Clarence,” Vera said slowly, seeming uncertain. “Is that… is that what you meant?”
“Yes. Tell me about that. Where did they go in Woodstock? Where did they stay? In a hotel? Did they camp?”
“I don’t know…” Vera touched the photo album uncertainly.
Zachary reached over and turned the pages, running the clock back until he saw a picture of Clarence again. “Is there a picture in here? Of Woodstock?”
“Maybe…” Vera’s voice wavered.
Zachary scoured the pages. He pointed to a picture of Rhys standing with his grandfather, green leaves behind them.
“What about that? Is that in Woodstock?”
“It might be…” Vera leaned over it to study it more carefully. “Yes… I think it might be…”
Kenzie got up from her chair and leaned over the picture as well.
“Where did they stay?” Zachary prompted again. “This looks very rustic.” He could see just the corner of a building, gray weathered wood. “Did they have a cabin here? Was there a fishing lodge?”
Vera nodded. “I don’t remember the name of it. Clarence rented it from an Indian fellow. He wanted a real fishing experience with Rhys. Getting up before the dawn. Frying their own fish over the fire for breakfast. It was supposed to be a guys’ vacation.”
Zachary cocked his head at her wording. “It was supposed to be. But then what happened?”
“Gloria decided that Rhys was too young. He couldn’t go with Clarence without Gloria or me there to supervise. Clarence was wonderful with Rhys, but he wasn’t a mother. A mother knows when her child is sick and what to do about it. And doesn’t let him get caught on a fishhook. Or fall in the lake and drown. She didn’t think that Clarence would be responsible enough. And she t
hought that Rhys might miss her and get homesick. Then they would have to come back and not have their special weekend.”
“She wanted to go along,” Zachary summarized.
“Well, what woman would want to go along on a fishing trip like that? She didn’t want to, but she didn’t think Rhys was old enough to go on his own. So she insisted she had to come along too.”
Zachary exchanged looks with Kenzie. “So she went. She knows where this cabin is.”
“Cabin!” Vera made a noise. “It wasn’t anything more than a shack. Gloria said it had running water, but no electricity, no shops within walking distance. It was in the middle of nowhere.”
“Do you know exactly where it was? Do you have a map? The name of the fellow Clarence rented it from?”
“No… I don’t know. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know, exactly. But it was Woodstock,” Vera nodded definitely. “I know that for sure.”
“We’ll find it,” Zachary said. “Woodstock is no bigger than a postage stamp. There could only be a handful of people renting out cabins there. I might be able to get more details from Rhys once we’re there and he can tell us what’s close by.”
“You did it,” Kenzie breathed. “I can’t believe you figured it out. We should call Detective Lashman and let him know.”
Zachary swore.
Kenzie looked at him, frowning. “What? What’s wrong?”
“They crossed state lines.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not only is it out of Lashman’s jurisdiction, that makes it an FBI case.”
“That’s good. FBI has great resources.”
Zachary looked at the time on his phone. If he told Lashman and Lashman told the FBI, they would start looking Saturday morning. Bridget would have been missing for four days. Being past the first forty-eight hours, the FBI would assign it a lower priority. There was less likelihood of retrieval. If Gloria had not been taking care of Bridget’s needs, death was a real possibility.
He wished he’d been able to ask Rhys more questions and that Rhys had been able to answer him more clearly.
“We have to go. We’ll call Lashman on the way and give him a heads-up. He can call the feds, and if they get there before we do, more power to them. But I can’t sit and wait on them.”
“I don’t know…”
“If you’re afraid of getting in trouble, I can take your keys and go without you. Just give me a head start before you call and report it.” Zachary stood up.
“Oh, you’re not driving my baby without me!” Kenzie shot back.
“Then let’s go. If you really don’t want to come, then drop me at a car rental. But if you’re just afraid of what the cops or Dr. Wiltshire will say, I’ll happily agree that I coerced you. Or that you were worried about my stability.” He gave her a hard, forced smile. “You are worried about my stability, aren’t you?”
“I’m always worried about your stability,” Kenzie agreed. “Especially wherever Bridget is concerned.”
“Then let’s hit the road.”
Vera was looking at them, a puzzled crease in her forehead. Zachary bent over and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, Vera. You were a big help. We’re going to go now, to go help Rhys.”
“Okay,” Vera agreed, giving him an uncertain smile. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T
hey hit the road. It was probably a good thing that Kenzie was the one who was driving, because once Zachary sat down in the car, he found himself shaking all over. Kenzie didn’t say anything at first as they headed east on the highway. But after a while, she looked over at him.
“Are you okay?”
“How could I be? Bridget could be hurt or sick. She could be dying. She’s going through who-knows-what hell, and I’m sitting around having tea and looking at pictures with an old woman. Do you know how that feels?”
“But it worked. You never would have been able to figure it out without getting Vera to talk to you. You did the right thing.”
“I should have figured it out sooner. I should have figured out that Bridget was missing on Tuesday! How could she be missing for three days before I knew it?” Zachary’s voice rose. He knew it wasn’t Kenzie’s fault. He shouldn’t be yelling at her. But he was feeling bad. Overwhelmed and inadequate and too late.
“Because you thought she was just avoiding you. You thought she had what she needed and just didn’t want to talk to you.”
“How could I think that about her?”
“Because it’s probably true,” Kenzie said calmly. “That’s exactly what she would do. Why feel guilty for that? You’re doing everything you can to help her. You’ve been able to get further than Detective Lashman with all of his personnel and resources. That’s why Gordon called you.”
“He called me to find out if Bridget was with me.”
Kenzie turned her gaze away from the highway to look at him. “Do you seriously think he thought Bridget was with you? When he realized that she hadn’t been home in a day or two, he thought maybe she had shacked up at your place? Or maybe the two of you were out having brunch? Gordon Drake didn’t get to where he is today by being stupid. He called you because he knew you were the best man for the job. He called the police to cover all his bases, but he called you first.”
It was hard for Zachary to believe. He shook his head and looked out the window, wishing that they could get to Woodstock faster. Should they have gone to the airport instead? Would that have gotten them there any sooner? Probably not. They would have to make arrangements, wait for flights, deal with security and delays. Maybe the FBI would block him from flying in an effort to keep him out of the case. Driving was better. Short of setting up road blocks, there was no way the FBI could stop him from driving there.
Rhys lay as still as he could, listening to his mother breathing. Gloria was restless, and stayed up late muttering to herself, watching reruns of American Idol on her phone, and frequently going to the windows to peer outside and make sure no one was going to sneak up on them.
A few times, Rhys had dozed, the restless kind of sleep he experienced when he had to sleep somewhere other than his own bed. He would stay awake late into the night, and not until he became convinced that he was not going to sleep at all would he finally drift off into restless dreams about coyotes and Grandpa Clarence and things that had happened when he was little.
But it had been several days, and his body wanted to sleep, even though he was trying to stay awake.
It was a long time before Gloria’s breathing finally settled into a long, slow rhythm and Rhys was sure she was asleep. He counted to one hundred slowly in his head. If she made any noise or movement, he would start over again, so that he could be sure she was soundly asleep.
Then he left his blanket on the floor and crept over to where the other woman, Bridget, moved around restlessly. She wasn’t trying to sleep and she had no blanket or warm jacket or anything else to make her comfortable. He had seen her fall asleep sitting up several times during the day, her chin gradually lowering to her chest until she startled and sat up again.
She saw him moving toward her but didn’t make any sound. Not a single whisper or movement that might rouse Gloria out of her restless sleep. Rhys drew up close to her until they were nearly touching. Bridget’s white skin seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Rhys worked the paper-wrapped half hamburger out of his pocket. It was squashed flat, but Bridget didn’t seem to take any notice. She eagerly took it from him and took a bite. In a few moments, it was gone. She licked at the wrapper. Rhys dug into his other pocket and pulled out the remains of a cookie. His stomach was grumbling, but he knew Bridget was in worse shape than he was. He could only save so much for her without Gloria noticing. The bit of cookie was polished off just as quickly as the hamburger. Bridget looked at him to see if there were anything else. Rhys shook his head regretfully.
She drew a finger down her throat. A drink?
Rhys
looked over at Gloria. She hadn’t moved. He stood up and tiptoed over to the bathroom. He didn’t turn on the light, but he knew where everything was in the tiny bathroom. He felt for the cup he’d left there earlier in the day. He positioned it under the faucet and trickled water into it. If Gloria woke up, he would just drink it himself. She couldn’t prove he was getting it for Bridget unless she caught him giving it to her.
Since his stomach was growling, he downed a glass himself first, and then refilled it for Bridget. He stopped in the bathroom doorway and listened for Gloria’s breathing to reassure himself she was still asleep, then went over to Bridget with the water. She gulped it down. Rhys could tell by the way she pressed her hand over her stomach that she had eaten and drunk too fast. She pressed the cup back into Rhys’s hand, smiling her thanks. Her lips were rough and cracked.
Rhys pulled out his iPod and navigated to the games folder where he’d hidden his messaging app. He tapped on the message thread, positioned the messages, and turned it around so Bridget could see. Her eyes darted over the contents, then went back to Rhys, questioning, hopeful. He nodded. Then he deleted each one so that if Gloria ever looked at it, there would be no evidence of his communication. He met Bridget’s eyes one more time, imploring her to be careful and not do anything to upset Gloria.
Then he went back over to his blanket and lay down.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
P
inpointing the cabin where Gloria was likely to have taken Rhys and Bridget was not as easy as Zachary had hoped. He had imagined that with the small population of Woodstock, he’d be able to find out who had cabins that might have been used as fishing lodges in the past ten years, who was still renting them out, and quickly narrow down which one Gloria was using.
She was Dying Anyway Page 24