He hadn’t known Carol well. She was Marta’s friend and business partner, and the couples didn’t socialize. Gordon hadn’t exchanged more than pleasantries with her on the few occasions they’d met. He was saddened by her death, but not troubled by it the way Marta was. To the extent Gordon felt any real sense of loss, it was the way Carol’s death affected his wife. Still, it felt odd to be reading through her files, knowing she was dead, possibly murdered. And while it seemed far-fetched that Todd might have killed her, the thought was rarely far from Gordon’s mind. It made finding Jamie all the more urgent.
Toward the bottom of the pile, Gordon came across what looked like a computer printout of a news story, something to do with the potential sale of a community bank in Texas. There was no indication which project or client it pertained to, unusual given Carol’s attention to order. He scanned the article to see if the subject matter would shed any light on the issue, and when it didn’t, he set the story aside. Maybe it would ring a bell with Marta.
When he’d done as much as he could, he turned on the evening news but found he cared about none of it. People were dying in far-off countries and in cities closer to home. Politicians in Washington were arguing about the number of angels who could fit on the head of a pin, or something equally inane. A warehouse burned, a private plane landed safely despite mechanical issues, an outbreak of E. coli sparked a recall of salad greens. None of it permeated the veil of emptiness and worry that was his own life. He tried watching a detective show, had a beer, gazed aimlessly out the window to the street. Finally, he made himself a salami sandwich and ate it standing over the sink.
Marta called as he was cleaning up. Simply seeing her name on the caller ID brightened his mood, which surprised him because he often considered calls, even those from his wife, an annoyance. Still, he was irked that she’d more or less shut him out of the trip to San Francisco. And angry that he’d allowed it to happen.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“The interview this afternoon with the TV station went okay, but in general, the response from the media hasn’t been what I’d hoped. I guess the story doesn’t have enough of a local angle to have legs here. Or maybe it’s not heart-wrenching enough to appeal to a jaded public.”
“A missing kid doesn’t cut it?”
“Only if Jamie was seven instead of seventeen. Or had been snatched from the street by a stranger at knifepoint.”
“You made it clear that Jamie is being held captive?”
“Of course I did.” Marta sounded discouraged. “My meeting with the local cops was a disappointment, too. Jamie’s name and photo are in the system. That’s all they can offer.”
Gordon wasn’t surprised, but he was discouraged all the same. “Maybe she’ll call again and we’ll get a better idea where she is or how to reach her.”
“That may be our only hope.”
“How’s it working out with Cassie?”
“About the way you predicted.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He felt bad for Marta, but he also took some small satisfaction in being proved right.
“She was really helpful this afternoon,” Marta said after a moment. “She made calls while I did the interview and talked to the cops. And she distributed flyers to local businesses. But after dinner she went out, supposedly for a walk. When I called her a bit ago, it was clear she was in some bar. She had a couple of drinks with dinner, too. I don’t think she’s reformed as much as she makes out.”
No surprise there. Cassie had the history of a yo-yo.
Gordon didn’t want the conversation to end but he could think of nothing more to say. He longed to simply talk, as they had in the early days of their marriage. Rarely about anything of significance, but he’d found the easy companionship rewarding in ways he’d never imagined. His current neediness surprised him. He hadn’t felt that yearning to connect in a long time.
Silence stretched between them. Then he remembered the papers from Carol’s desk. “By the way, do you and Carol have a client involved in a Texas bank merger?”
“No. Why?”
Gordon explained his attempt to make order out of chaos.
“I’ll take a look at it when I get back.”
Another beat of silence. “Well,” Gordon announced finally, “I should let you go.”
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” Marta said. “Sooner, if I learn anything.”
When they clicked off, Gordon felt more disheartened than ever.
Determined to make himself useful, he returned to the folders spread across the kitchen table. He read through the files in detail but not one referenced a bank. Or Texas, for that matter.
He picked up the news story and read it again. Citizen’s Choice Bank was in talks with AG National about a possible buyout. Near the bottom of the page, an accompanying photo showed two men and a woman. The caption identified them as Frederick Winslow, Travis Winslow, and Stephanie Winslow. A checkmark was penciled in lightly at the margin. Carol’s marking? It almost had to be.
The photo had not printed well. It was dark and fuzzy. But Carol must have marked it for a reason. Gordon found the original news article online and clicked on the photo.
His mouth went dry. Travis Winslow bore a striking resemblance to the man he knew as Todd Wilson.
Chapter 43
When Marta’s phone rang at 5:30 the next morning, she was awake in an instant. She checked the caller ID—not a number she recognized.
She grabbed the phone and answered breathlessly with a pounding heart. “Jamie?”
There was no response, only soft breathing.
“Jamie, are you there?” Marta asked.
“It’s me,” Cassie said, after a moment.
Marta’s galloping heart skidded to a stop. Her anger with her sister was now compounded by her disappointment. She almost threw the phone down in disgust.
“Sorry to wake you,” Cassie said.
“Think nothing of it.” Marta laid on the sarcasm. “I hope you had a delightful evening.”
Cassie didn’t answer immediately. “I need you to come get me,” she said, finally.
“You’ve got to be kidding? You stay out all night partying, then wake me at some ungodly hour to come get you? What in the hell is wrong with you?”
“I messed up.”
“Damn right you did. Take a cab.”
“I really need your help.” She sounded hollowed out, verging on desperate.
“Well, I really needed your help.” Marta got out of bed and began pacing around the hotel room. “Which you supposedly came here to offer.”
“Please.” Cassie’s voice trembled. “I do want to help. But right now, I need you to bail me out.”
“Bail you out of what? Your bar tab?”
A moment’s pause. “Out of jail.”
Marta sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “How in the hell did you wind up in jail?”
“I got a little drunk, okay?”
“A little drunk?”
“And I sort of got into an argument with a cop.”
“Good God, Cassie. You never learn, do you?”
“I had a reason,” Cassie said defensively. “A good reason.”
“There is no good reason to get arrested for being drunk and disorderly. You’re on your own.”
“Please, Marta. I have something important to tell you.”
“I bet you do.” Some sob story that was supposed to make Marta feel sorry for her. Poor put-upon Cassie.
“It’s about Jamie.”
“So tell me.”
“Not like this. I have to tell you in person.”
Marta went to the window and looked out. The stars had vanished and the sky was beginning to lighten. “I’m not falling for that load of crap. I know you, remember? I know how you operate.”
“It’s not crap.” Cassie took a long breath. “I think I know where Jamie is.”
*****
Marta took her time showering and getting dre
ssed, and then called for a cab. She toyed with the idea of letting Cassie stew for awhile. She hated being played for a fool, but she couldn’t walk away from the possibility that Cassie might have information about Jamie, as unlikely as that was. She promised herself, however, that this was the end. From here on out her sister could sink or swim on her own.
It was after seven by the time Marta arrived at the county jail, an imposing building on a noisy and dirty street in a part of town Marta imagined few tourists ever visited. Inside, her footsteps were among the many that echoed in the cavernous stone lobby, even at this early hour.
She gave the deputy at the intake window Cassie’s name. In return, he handed her a clipboard of forms that needed to be filled out, then explained her options for payment. Marta elected to write a check, mostly because she didn’t want to spend hours dealing with a bondsman or waiting around for a hearing.
Eventually, a burly black cop escorted Cassie into the small room where Marta was waiting.
“You do this often?” he asked Marta.
“Isn’t once bad enough?”
“She needs help,” he said.
“No kidding.”
“She lucked out. Detention only this time. No arrest. She shouldn’t count on that luck holding in the future.”
They were barely out the door when Cassie said, “He talked about me like I wasn’t even there. Like I was a kid or something.”
Marta continued on without saying a word. She was still fuming, but seeing Cassie’s disheveled hair, rumpled clothing, and bloodshot eyes softened the ire a bit.
Cassie slumped against the wall of the elevator. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly.
“You should be grateful I agreed to save your sorry ass. But this is the last time. I mean it. I’m done.”
Cassie looked down. “I understand.”
Marta hailed a cab and they rode to the hotel in silence. Once they were inside their room, she turned on Cassie. “What got into you? What were you thinking?”
“I was trying not to think.”
“Congratulations. I’m sure you succeeded.” Marta tossed her jacket onto the bed. “You said you know where Jamie is?”
“I might.” Cassie looked at her trembling hands. “I have something to tell you first.”
Some weasel tale that would have nothing to do with Jamie. Marta was already kicking herself for falling for her sister’s tricks.
“You may never speak to me again,” Cassie continued, “so let me say right now that I never wanted to hurt you.”
“How big of you.”
“I mean it, Marta.” Her eyes teared up and her bottom lip quivered. “I know we have our differences, but I’ve never, ever felt anything but love for you.”
Marta was ready to dismiss the tears, but the raw sincerity in her sister’s tone caught her by surprise. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”
“The man Jamie is with . . . he’s the guy you met in Minneapolis, right?”
Marta nodded.
Cassie pulled her phone from her purse, brought up a photo, and handed the phone to Marta. “Is this him?”
Marta glanced at the screen and felt her scalp tighten. She was looking at a candid shot of Todd. “Where did you get this?”
“I took it.”
“When?”
“A year or so ago.”
“You know him?” Marta felt totally blindsided. “How? Who is he?”
“We met in a recovery group. We were like the only two sane people there so we sort of hung out together.”
Were she not trying desperately to remain focused on Jamie, Marta would have laughed at the absurdity of Cassie and Todd as sane.
“You dated him?” Marta asked.
“Not exactly.”
“What’s that mean?”
She hesitated. “We hung out.”
“Hung out or hooked up?”
“We might have done it one time. I honestly can’t remember. I was pretty wasted that night. But mostly, we just hung. I didn’t even see him all that often. He travels a lot.”
The questions came fast and furious in Marta’s head. She focused on the most important one. “What do you know about him?”
“His name is Ted. At least that’s how I know him. People don’t always use their real names in those recovery groups. I never could figure out exactly what he does, but he never seemed to be hurting for money.”
Marta’s mind felt scrambled. Every time she tried to make sense of what her sister was telling her, she got lost. “How weird,” she said finally, “that the man I met is someone you know.” And then something struck her. “How did you make the connection?”
“This is the really hard part.” Cassie licked her lips, looked down at her feet. “I knew you’d met him, but I didn’t know until last night that Jamie ran off with him.”
“You knew I’d met him?”
“I told him where you’d be.”
Marta sat down hard on the edge of her bed. “Why?”
“He was going to be there on business.”
“But why mention me at all?”
Cassie pressed her fingertips together, steeple style. “We used to talk about how impossible family could be and stuff like that. He heard me sound off about my paragon-of-perfection sister a lot.”
“Where do you get such nonsense?”
“Where do I get it?” She lifted her chin. “I’ve had to live with it my whole life. Everything I did, Mom would point out how stupid it was, and how dear, precious Marta would never make the same mistake. ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister?’ she’d say, over and over. I can’t tell you how sick I was of hearing those words. It wasn’t easy, you know.”
“So you’ve reminded me many times. You suffered and it’s all my fault. I still don’t understand why you told him I was in Minneapolis.”
Cassie took a breath. “He bet me he could bring you down a peg or two.”
“My God! You set me up?” Marta’s stomach felt sour.
“I told you you’d hate me.”
“After all I’ve done for you! All the times I’ve helped you out.”
“I didn’t think he’d follow you home. Like I said, I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Please, Marta. You’ve got to believe me.”
“But you knew he was going to come on to me? And you agreed to it?”
“I never thought you’d give him the time of day.” Cassie clasped and unclasped her hands. “I’m sorry, Marta. I’m really, really sorry. It was supposed to be a joke.”
“A joke?”
“As much on him as on you. Ted thinks he’s irresistible. Women fall for him and then he dumps them. He gets off on it. I was sure you’d blow him off right away. I didn’t expect him to stalk you. And I certainly never expected him to go after Jamie.”
Marta felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Tell me what you know about him.”
“Not a lot. Like I said, we just kind of hung out.”
“In Dallas?”
Cassie nodded. “I’m not sure if he actually lived there, though. He was gone a lot.”
“Go on. What’s he like?”
“He’s a smooth talker, but I guess you know that. Fun to be around. But…”
”But what?”
“There’s something weird about him . . . He makes stuff up. Kind of like a compulsive liar, I guess, only I think he just enjoys playing games.”
Marta felt a new prick of anxiety. “Is he dangerous?” The more she learned, the more worried she was becoming.
“I don’t know. I thought he was a regular guy. Maybe a little peculiar at times, but who isn’t?” Cassie started pacing around the room, arms akimbo as though she was weighing her thoughts with her hands. “Ted can be unpredictable and something of a hothead. And he’s got an ego bigger than the sun. But I never thought of him as dangerous. On the other hand, I never thought he’d stalk you or run off with Jamie.”
“You said you might know where Jamie is.”
/>
“Ted used to talk about a family cabin. It’s up north, somewhere near Shasta. Jamie told you she was in a cabin in the woods, right? That could be the place.”
“Somewhere near Shasta, that’s all you know?”
“I might recognize a name if I looked at a map,” Cassie suggested.
“Or he could have been lying about the cabin along with everything else.”
“I suppose so.”
But what if he hadn’t been? Marta felt the first glimmers of hope.
Hang on, Jamie. I’m going to find you.
Chapter 44
Jamie hummed quietly under her breath as she followed Todd along the narrow, uneven path. She had no interest in fishing but she was happy to be outside and to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin. She was happy, too, that Todd was being so sweet and attentive, trying hard to make up for his angry explosion the other day. Trying hard to show her how much he cared.
When he’d slapped her and wrenched the phone away, he was as irate as anyone she’d ever seen. Like a bull with fire in its eyes and steam rushing from its nostrils. The sting of his slap brought instant tears to her eyes, but the pain of the subsequent punches almost blinded her. At first, she’d been too stunned to do anything but cower and run her tongue around her mouth feeling for loose teeth.
When he’d told her to take off all her clothes, she’d complied without a word, shaking so badly she’d been afraid she’d never be able to get them off.
“Don’t you ever cross me again, understand?”
Jamie nodded.
“Get down. On all floors like the bitch you are.”
“Please, Todd,” Jamie gulped between tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“Down. Right now.”
Shivering, Jamie had lowered herself to the cold, filthy floor. Her head was pounding, whether from the force of Todd’s fist or fear of what was coming next, she couldn’t say.
Todd took off his leather belt and snapped it in the air over Jamie’s head.
She flinched.
“You disappoint me, Jamie. Going behind my back like that. I trusted you.”
Payback Page 23