by Sarah Zettel
“You’re telling me to throw you under the bus?”
“I’m telling you to do whatever it takes to keep your family and Lumination together,” she said. “Dana’s going to need all of you when this is all over.”
Rafi pulled back. His face showed no panic, no shock. Just that deep comprehension she had always counted on.
“Keep Zoe in the loop. Hand to God, you can trust her with everything.”
Rafi still said nothing.
“Promise me,” she said, because what she needed was beyond anything even Rafi’s silence could convey. “Promise me you will take care of Dana. I need to know she’ll be with people who love her.”
He nodded once. “I promise. You…take care of yourself, Beth.”
She hoped he did not expect any kind of reply to that. But he did wait for a moment, just in case. When she did not say anything else, he turned and walked away. Beth shut her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see him leave. She didn’t open them again until she heard the door close.
Beth headed for her bedroom.
As the screen in the lobby so helpfully informed her, the “gruesome and shocking” murder of Douglas Hoyt was already news. Very soon, the media machine, with all its fast-moving, multilayered efficiency, would find out who that hotel room had been registered to. If they didn’t know already.
She had to be gone before they got here.
Beth kept her go-bag under her bed. It was an anonymous blue duffle she bought at Target she didn’t even remember how long ago. She went through it every so often, making sure the clothes still fit reasonably well and updating the consumables.
There was a box of Clif bars and a couple of bottles of water. There was an extra flip phone and a portable charger. A little bit of cash. There were scans of important documents: the passports and birth certificates and credit cards, all in her own name or Dana’s.
Not one of those was of any use to her now. She dropped them onto the dresser and slung the bag over her shoulder.
The keys to the padlock on the garage and the car inside the garage were in the junk drawer in the kitchen, along with all the other keys to locks that had been forgotten about over the years. She dug them out and stuffed them into her pocket.
She’d go to the safe-deposit box first. She’d need the other IDs that were in there, the cards, and the much more substantial amount of cash.
And she’d need the gun.
The landline rang again. The knock on the door came as she was diving to grab the handset.
That was when she knew what was happening. She ignored the knocking and the ringing and ran back to her bedroom. She grabbed the document scans off the dresser, crammed them back into the bag, and kicked it all under the bed.
The ringing stopped. The knocking started up again, harder this time.
Beth smoothed her hair down and went to open the door for the cops and Detective Patel, who had a warrant to search her premises.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The room had no clock. All Dana knew when she woke up was that the sun was slanting through her window and her bladder was about ready to give way.
She sprinted for the bathroom.
When she’d finished and flushed, she stood there for a while, hugging herself and listening. She didn’t hear any noises. She opened the door a crack and peeked out. The hallway was empty.
What do I do? She bit her lip. What can I do?
Moving quietly, she hurried back to her room. She went through the dresser, but whoever owned this house wasn’t as good at planning as Mom, and the drawers were all empty, except for some spare sheets and stuff. But the clean clothes from last night were still there. Dana dressed again and pulled her socks and shoes on. Her purse was on the dresser. So was her jacket.
She grabbed them both. She peeked into the hallway again. Still nothing.
I’ll be quick.
She didn’t let herself think. She just tiptoed down the stairs. The wood was polished smooth, and it didn’t creak at all.
I’ll be quick. Just see where I am.
The stairs went straight down to the flagstone foyer and the front door. There was a brass umbrella stand with umbrellas, and a whole row of coat hooks with women’s coats on all of them except the last one, which had Todd’s old leather jacket hanging on it.
They’ll never know I’m gone.
She worked the deadbolt and the knob lock.
“Far enough, Granddaughter.”
Dana jumped out of her skin. Her jacket and purse flew out of her hands, and she screamed. She couldn’t help it.
“Oh Jesus. Fuck,” muttered Todd.
He was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but baggy plaid boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt. Dana backed up against the wall and doubled over, trying to get her heart to slow down.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Not really. I’m sorry.”
Todd sighed and thudded down the stairs. He closed the deadbolt and squinted out the stained-glass sidelights before he grabbed her by the elbow and took her into the kitchen and stationed her right beside the big butcher-block-topped island.
“Stay.” He pointed his index finger at her. “I’m gonna go get decent.”
Dana sat down at the kitchen island and put her jacket on the counter, and her arms on her jacket, and her head on her arms. She tried not to cry, or think, or do anything.
When Todd came back, he had on new jeans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt and clean tube socks. Thick, gray stubble covered his chin, and what was left of his hair stood up in spikes.
He pulled out a stool and sat down next to her.
“You doing all right?” he asked abruptly.
Dana straightened up. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. Dana shrugged back.
“Sleep okay?”
Dana didn’t bother to answer.
“Where did you think you were going?”
She licked her lips. “I thought…I wanted to find out where we are.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, and Dana fought the need to squirm. Then he shrugged again. “Fair enough, but I’m telling you right now: It doesn’t matter where we are, because we are not staying.”
“Where’s Jeannie?” she blurted out.
“Still conked out.” Todd scratched at his stubble. “Don’t think this is gonna be one of her good days. So, you and me, we need to talk.”
Dana tensed. Todd must have noticed because he sighed and leaned forward, pressing his palms together between his knees. His eyes were very blue, Dana noticed, and he looked directly at her.
“Look. Given what all’s happened, I don’t really expect you to believe what I’m gonna say here. But I am sorry we’ve all landed in this, and I am going to do what I can to get us out of it, you included.”
“What about Mom?”
Todd shook his head. “Yeah, Jeannie told me. That’s hard. Case of being too smart for her own damn good. But she didn’t do anything, and she’s got some amazing goddamn lawyers, so my guess is she’ll be out before too much longer.”
“And then I can go home?”
Todd didn’t answer.
“And then I can go home?” Dana repeated.
“Dana, you’re a smart girl. You can see this for what it is. You killed your father. Okay, it was an accident, but you know, with all the history between you and him and your mom, are the cops really going to believe that?”
Dana shoved past that. She couldn’t get stuck there. She’d go under again. “Why were you even there?” she demanded.
“Well, me and your Dad ran into each other down in your lobby, you know? And he recognized me from the YouTube thing, and we got to talking. Once he calmed down, anyhow. He wanted my help. Said if I helped him get some money from your mom, he’d make sure I got some more money for your grandmother’s treatment.”
“That’s not what you said before.”
This time Todd’s sigh was sharp and more than a little exasperated. �
��I guess I’m just going to have to keep apologizing, aren’t I? All that stuff back there—that was not my idea. Doug told me he was going to try to scare you into helping him”—he put up his hands—“and I said no way. We don’t mess with the kid, I said, and I said he should be telling you the truth. You guys were flesh and blood, I said. You’re a good kid. You wouldn’t leave him out in the cold.”
Dana felt her mind turning over hard. She didn’t want this to be true, none of it. It shouldn’t be.
But it could be. Or it could be all lies. Big lies and little lies, and how would she even know?
“But, you know, he had this idea about you being your mother’s daughter and all…” He shook his head. “Now, I admit I went along with his plan in the end partly because I was mad. Jeannie’s dying, and your mom won’t even help her.”
“That’s not true!” shouted Dana. “She was taking care of everything!”
“Is that what she told you?” Todd scratched at his chin again. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry to have to tell you different, Dana. Because your mom—she was offering me money to take your grandma away.”
“You’re a liar!”
“Yeah, but not this time.”
He reached into the T-shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He smoothed it out on the counter so Dana could read it.
It was a check for three thousand dollars, and there was Mom’s signature at the bottom.
“This was just the down payment,” Todd said. “Your mom offered me seventy-five thousand dollars if I’d take your grandma and get outta town.” He folded the check back up and tucked it away in his pocket. “Told me what hospital Jeannie was in, what name she was under, everything.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Dana breathed.
But Mom hated both of them. Because of all the stuff that had happened. And Mom did go see him Sunday night, and she did say she was going to pay him to go away…
Him though. Not Jeannie. Jeannie was sick and hurt and trying to leave. Mom wouldn’t just give her back to this guy. No matter how much she hated her. She wouldn’t do that.
Would she?
“I couldn’t believe it either,” Todd said. “She thinks I care more about money than about Jeannie’s life. So, here comes this guy—the guy she loved enough to have a baby with—and he’s telling me she won’t help him either? So, I’m not proud of it, but I got mad, and I went along.”
Dana bit her lip.
“I know this is a lot to lay on you all at once, but there are times when you have got to face things head-on. Your mom is under suspicion for what you did to your father. That’s a fact. Now, what are the cops gonna find out? They’re gonna find out your dad was giving her grief and then he started pestering you. What do you think the cops are gonna make out of that? Then there’s that thing back in Abrahamsville. It kind of starts to add up,” he went on with surprising gentleness. “I mean, you see that, right? She is in a whole lot of trouble on her own, even without you there to have to look out for.”
Dana said nothing. She didn’t trust her voice, or the thoughts whirling through her head. This guy was a dealer. He was a cheat and a liar. He’d beat on her grandmother, her mother, and he’d tried to put one over on her dad…
He’s lying. He’s got to be.
The problem was his story made sense, mostly, and he had that check with Mom’s signature. Dana swallowed against the bile that rose up in her throat. Todd’s words twisted around her brain while what really happened in the hotel room squirmed and tried to get away.
Todd leaned forward so he was exactly eye level with her. His breath smelled like Listerine.
“I know you’re confused,” he said softly. “I know you know I’m a regular rat-bastard. It’s too late for me to change that now. But you see what a mess we’re in, me and your grandmother both? When we pulled you outta there, we became accessories to Doug’s murder. So, you know, you can’t really blame me for raising my voice a little last night. Because it’s our necks on the chopping block too now, you see?”
“Yes,” Dana whispered. Todd smiled, like he understood.
“Now, I also know you love your mother. That’s good. That’s right. What kind of daughter would you be to turn on her, no matter what she’s done? But she loves you too, more than anyone in the whole world. So, what’s she gonna do if you try to go back now? Let you go to prison? She’s never gonna let that happen. She’ll confess first. You know she will, Dana, and she’ll do it to save you.”
He was looking right into her eyes.
“So, I’m asking you, for your mother’s sake, and your grandmother’s, to help us. Let us get you—and us—outta here. That way, your mom can concentrate on taking care of herself.”
“Why are you doing this?” The question fell out of Dana’s mouth before she had a chance to think about it. She wasn’t even sure what she was really asking.
“Because, Dana.” Todd lifted his hand and ran his index finger down her cheek, like he was tracing a tear. “We’re family.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
It took the police two hours to search her home.
Beth spent most of it out on the balcony. She stood above her familiar street, with all the traffic and the pedestrians going about their business beneath her. They had no idea that the world had ended, that a child had gone missing, and that a carefully constructed life had been smashed to pieces.
She leaned on the railing with her phone in her hands. She couldn’t make herself put it down, in case Dana called. In case her parents did.
They must have spotted Doug in the lobby the day he’d first come to beg for her help. She’d seen Todd then. She’d seen him and she’d known him, but she hadn’t trusted herself enough to believe it. So, they’d gotten to Doug and inside of thirty seconds they saw that they could use him against her, and against Dana.
And Beth had let it happen. She’d sat there, feeling so smug with her plans and her precautions, and she let them take her daughter.
So, what would they do next?
On one level she knew, of course. They’d start demanding money. They’d promise to keep Dana safe from the police or whoever else, as long as Beth paid. Then, when that stopped working, they’d promise to give Dana back, just as long as the money kept coming. When that stopped working, they’d think of something else. And something else after that.
Because they never had enough, and they never kept what they had. Because they would scrounge and scam and steal whatever they wanted, and keep right on telling themselves the same old stories to justify what they were doing.
“You might want to come inside, Ms. Fraser.”
Beth was too worn out even to jump. She just looked back over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Detective Patel. The detective pointed through the railing, down to where a news van was trying to negotiate a tight parking spot.
“Yeah.” Beth shoved her phone into her back pocket. Patel’s warrant didn’t cover her cell. At least, not yet. That might come later. Depending. Dana’s phone—the one she’d left at the restaurant—had already vanished into evidence somewhere. Now they were taking the rest of her daughter’s life to join it. The dining table was covered with bagged and tagged objects: Dana’s computers, her hairbrushes, shoes, and even her notebooks. Uniformed cops labeled more bags and boxes. They snapped pictures with their phones and made notes in little black books.
“Sorry about the mess,” said Detective Patel.
Beth shrugged.
“You must be exhausted. Is there somebody we can call for you?”
“No. Nobody.”
“You sure? You really shouldn’t be alone now.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Patel sighed impatiently. “How can that possibly be true, Beth?”
Beth looked at her. Patel was good. Gentle. Compassionate. She sounded like she really cared, even though she had to be at least as tired as Beth. Even though she had to know that Beth was consciously, deliberately withholding huge piles
of information.
“It’s true because it has to be,” Beth answered. “Is there anything else, Detective?”
Patel didn’t blink, but her jaw hardened. Okay, that jawline said. I tried. It’s game on.
Game on, agreed Beth, and she knew Patel understood.
That was when her phone buzzed. Beth jumped, hard.
Patel waited for two more buzzes. “Are you going to answer?”
“They’ll call back,” Beth said.
Patel held her gaze for another buzz. Then she sighed and threw up her hands, signaling that she had given up on Beth Fraser once and for all.
One of the uniforms handed Beth a written receipt for all the things they were taking. Patel left another card, just in case Beth had lost the first one. She also warned Beth she would be calling with more questions.
Beth’s phone finally stopped buzzing.
Beth let them out of the apartment. She watched them all leave. She shut the door and locked it.
Only then did her knees give out. She fell against the wall, gasping, and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was a local area code.
Oh.
There was no message. Beth stabbed the number to call it back.
Oh, please.
She staggered into the living room, vaguely aware she should not be near the door when the person on the other end answered. Just in case Patel had decided to wait outside, just to see what she could hear.
Please, please, please. Be Dana. Be my daughter. Please, please.
The ring cut off.
“Beth?”
Beth fell onto the couch, strength gone, breath gone.
It was Jeannie.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“I’ve got Dana,” Jeannie said. “She’s okay. She’s here with us.”
Beth’s heart had stopped. Now, it stuttered into a frantic motion that nearly choked her. She swallowed, and swallowed again to try to clear her throat so she could speak.