by Vicki Hinze
Roxy assigned Mark to supervise the leads coming in from the Crossroads phone bank, and from his reports, it was hopping. At midnight, they were averaging two hundred calls per hour. Most weren’t reporting sightings, just wishing Sara and Robert well and offering prayers and assurances that they were keeping an eye out.
Sara’s voice mail box had filled and been emptied three times—Robert’s friends calling to see if there was any news. Maria took care of those. They irked Beth. Not one caller asked about Sara. Maria had summed it up well. “They each want to be first to get the scoop and tell the others.”
Beth checked on Nora, who had taken refuge in her room to get a break from Nathara. She talked about Clyde with such tenderness it put a lump in Beth’s throat. She couldn’t ease Nora’s pain. She could listen. And so she did until well after one.
After hanging up, Beth showered and changed into blue jersey shorts and a T-shirt and headed to Sara’s family room sofa. Too exhausted to sleep, she snagged her special phone in case Joe called, stretched out and muted the sound on the television. A clip from Sara’s press conference was on the screen. With a sigh, Beth glanced away, to the window. Through the sheers, she saw a small cluster of people just beyond the security gate, holding vigil with burning candles.
Earlier, they’d startled Sara, but Jeff said they were people from different churches and local organizations Sara had supported. She had been moved to tears and clasped Jeff’s arm, staring out through hungry eyes. She didn’t know them, but their support was genuine and heartfelt. It meant a lot to Sara.
And Beth was grateful for it, though it put a little ache in her heart. Sara was beloved by strangers. She knew Robert’s friends were exactly that—his friends. Sara was still an outsider.
That had to sting. Beth sniffed. Seduced by the swine, they ignored the pearl.
Staring at the ceiling, Beth thought heavy thoughts about people and the way they behaved. Some people were in your life for your whole life, but most were there just for a season. When it ended, they moved on and so did you. Of those people, some were blessings, some gave you something you needed, and some took something they needed. Most did both, gave and took, depending on their situation at the time.
Beth scrunched a pillow to her chest. All that was normal. Human. Expected. The people she didn’t understand were the takers who didn’t move off the dime. The ones who took and took and kept on taking. No matter how much you gave, it was never enough. People like Robert and Max.
I wish I understood him. I really do. I just … don’t.
Hours later, Beth still drifted in twilight, neither asleep nor awake, pondering. What kind of person had she been?
“He’s made the front page.” Roxy’s voice carried to Beth from the living room.
“Local or national?” one of the male agents asked.
“All of them.” Roxy sounded happy.
A little shiver raced through Beth. Had going to the media been the right thing? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure. Please, don’t let me regret it. She swallowed hard. More important, don’t let Sara regret it.
Morning came and went without news.
The living room and study were hubs of activity, people chasing down promising leads that, so far, had all been dead ends. Sara spoke with reporters again at one o’clock and, to her credit, sincerely tried to stay serene, upbeat, and positive.
With the lack of news, it couldn’t be easy. But Sara was hanging in there in ways Beth wouldn’t have believed possible just days ago. Beth was glad to see it, even if she worried that the reason was the result of quiet talks between Sara and Jeff. Dangerous ground. The sparks between them were just one of many bizarre reactions from Sara since all this started. She’d never been flighty or made a vow she didn’t keep. She knew fear and isolation and loneliness and loss. She understood grief and had survived its ravages, rebuilt a life from its remnants. Her medical condition made her seem fragile, but could a person endure all Sara had and really be fragile?
Beth now doubted it. So Sara was in trouble and it impacted others, but what was its source? How did it impact Beth and others? Had Robert done something? Sara done something? Had they done something together? Did that—whatever it was—somehow connect to the club attack? That missing groom on the cake, Robert missing? Maybe Jeff and Roxy were right. Joe thought it was connected too, and maybe it was—
“Beth?”
She turned to look at Jeff. “Yes?”
“A man is here to talk with Sara about Robert.” Jeff’s forehead creased. He seemed wary. “She agreed, but she doesn’t know him. I’m sitting in. Thought you’d want to know.”
He feared an attack. Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped being suspicious, but he didn’t trust her. He needed her. She didn’t bother being irked. In his shoes, she’d probably consider herself a suspect too. Beth stood. “Why did Sara agree to speak with him?”
“I’m not sure.” Jeff shrugged. “Hungry for news?”
Probably. She was desperate. “Where are they?”
“In the study.” Jeff stepped back so Beth could pass through the doorway. “She has her inhaler. I saw her pick it up off the counter.”
Praying Sara wouldn’t need it, Beth brushed past him. She walked into the study that was as cold and unwelcoming as the rest of the house. Everything in it was monotone gray with not a single splash of color anywhere. Steel desk, minimalist chairs, and not a single personal item in sight. That was the problem with the whole house. It was filled with beautiful, impersonal things and nothing that reflected the people who lived in it. Beth had been in warmer, more personal hotel rooms.
Jeff stopped at the door, just outside Sara’s and the visitor’s line of sight. Beth expected him to direct the conversation, but Jeff, being Jeff, had his own agenda.
Dressed in black, which said all that needed saying about her emotional state, Sara sat stiffly behind the desk. A man sat in the visitor’s chair across from her, his back to Beth. On the edge of the desk in front of him was a cup of coffee from Ruby’s. Beth recognized the cup. “Sara?” Beth walked around, stopped beside her, and then looked at the man. “What’s up?”
“I’m not sure.” Sara’s face was the color of ice and her hand was in her pocket, no doubt wrapped around her inhaler.
Sara feared him or what he would tell her. Beth shifted her gaze to him. Well dressed in a good-quality navy suit. Broad shoulders, tiptop shape, about thirty-two or -three, black hair cropped close, and she guessed, as he was seated, well over six feet tall. He shouldn’t be at all attractive; his facial features were sharp and angular—broad forehead and square jaw, blunt nose and wide eyes. Singularly, they shouldn’t fit together into a compelling package, but they did. Compelling and oddly striking.
“Hello.” She stepped over and offered her hand. “I’m Beth Dawson.”
“Thomas Boudin.” He stood, clasped her hand, and firmly shook. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I saw Mr. Tayton’s photo and I had to follow up.”
“On what?” His cologne smelled vaguely familiar. Subtle and understated like the man. Beth backed away to get a clearer read on him. Jeff looked as invested as a presidential bodyguard.
Boudin set out to put her at ease. “I’m a former military member, Ms. Dawson. OSI—Office of Special Investigations. Two years ago, I became a private consultant.”
Was he a friend of Joe’s offering to help? If so, what could he do that the others weren’t? She couldn’t imagine. A little warning went off inside her. She darted a covert gaze at Jeff, who nodded to press on. “Private consultant covers a lot of territory.”
“Yes, it does,” he admitted, but didn’t offer further clarification.
Sara curled her fingers into the chair’s arms. Her knuckles bleached. Definitely scared. “So what do you want, Mr. Boudin?”
“I’m looking into a case for a friend. Mr. Tayton’s photograph in the paper this morning … he might be connected.”
“What kind of case?” Beth grew more uneasy wi
th his every word.
He glanced at Sara. Her hands were trembling. “At this time, I’m not at liberty to say.”
That surprised Beth and clearly worried Sara. Was he trying to upset her more?
“Mr. Boudin, what do you want from me?” A sharp breath hitched Sara’s chest.
“Answers.” He gentled his voice. “So I can determine whether or not Mr. Tayton is connected to my case—”
Sara pulled out her inhaler, nodded at Beth.
She needed a moment. Beth stiffened her voice. “Mr. Boudin, join me for a second.”
Confusion riddled his expression. “Excuse me?”
“In the hallway,” Beth said from between her teeth. “Right now, please.” She ushered him past Jeff and into the hall.
“Ms. Dawson—,” he began.
“Don’t you Ms. Dawson me. You come here knowing Sara is half crazy with worry and suggest her missing husband could be hooked into some other case you won’t discuss, and you honestly expect cooperation? She’s just been released from the hospital. Did you see her pull out that inhaler?”
“I did see it. That’s why I was trying not to add to her distress.” Boudin’s neck and face flushed. “I didn’t withhold information to be cruel; I was trying to protect her.”
Beth didn’t believe it. From Jeff’s stony expression, he was still on the fence.
Boudin lifted an arm. “Until I ask the questions, I can’t know if Mr. Tayton is involved in my case. If he is, and Mrs. Tayton can take hearing the truth without injury, I’ll tell her what she needs to know. If he’s not involved, then I’ll be sorry I wasted her time and mine and be glad I spared her from hearing unpleasant things that weren’t relevant.” His gaze turned intense, riddled with a warning. “Believe me, Ms. Dawson, you do not want Mr. Tayton to be involved in my case, and unless I must, you definitely do not want me to tell his wife about it.”
That set Beth back on her heels. Fear swirled with curiosity. Beth believed him. Worse, if Boudin’s case was bad, no matter what it was about, she could imagine Robert involved up to his slimy eyeballs in it. Still, she couldn’t permit a fishing expedition that negatively impacted Sara. The lack of news had her brittle. This was no time to risk something unrelated making her snap. “Sara’s medical issues are complicated. She hasn’t sufficiently recovered to survive another attack.”
“I’m sorry.” He paused a thoughtful moment.
His sincerity stopped Beth cold. Sara’s attack and hospitalization had remained out of the press for fear the kidnappers would use it to sensationalize the case. “No, I’m sorry, Mr. Boudin. I overreacted. You couldn’t have known about Sara’s medical condition.”
Jeff looked shocked that Beth took responsibility for her mistake. Why?
“I understand.” Boudin seemed to mean it. “You’re trying to protect her.”
Beth let him see the truth in her eyes and noted something oddly familiar in his. “I am worried.” Terrified would be more honest. “About her and what else this could cause to happen.”
“Understandable. I read the report about the attack at the country club.”
There was something about him. Something … known. SaBe maybe? Or one of her trips to Quantico? Where? “Do you really think Robert might be connected to your case?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” Boudin pulled a mint from his pocket, offered one to Beth.
The scent struck a chord and a chill crept up her back. The terrace messenger. “Um, no. Thank you.” She searched her memory. She didn’t know his face, but she knew that scent and she knew those eyes. Yet if Thomas Boudin had been at the fund-raiser, she definitely would have noticed and remembered him.
“For Mrs. Tayton’s sake, I hope her husband isn’t involved.”
That comment struck fear in Beth’s heart. “If he is, will Sara be hurt?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s possible.” He dropped his shoulders, crooked his neck. “I’m not being evasive. Based on what I know now, that’s as accurate as I can be.”
She liked him. Direct. Compassionate. Honest. “Okay, Mr. Boudin. I’m going to take a leap of faith on you. Don’t make me regret it. Ask Sara your questions, but if I touch my nose,” she said for his and Jeff’s benefit, “then it’s over. You reassure Sara, thank her, and end it. No more questions and no delays. Agreed?”
“Agreed. The questions really are routine and harmless. They shouldn’t distress her.”
“Just keep your promise—and if he is your guy, you still reassure her, thank her, and end it. Then you privately tell me.”
Jeff sent her a suspicious look.
So did Boudin. “I’m uncomfortable with the ethics—”
“It’s not negotiable, and it has nothing to do with ethics.” Beth’s tone went flat. “If what you discover could upset her, then I need time to prepare.”
“Prepare?”
Beth nodded. “Arrange conditions to minimize the impact. Get her calm, get her doctor here. If the news warrants it, get an ambulance on standby.”
“Oh, I see.” His doubt faded. “One touch of the nose, and we’re done.”
A decent judge of character, she decided Thomas Boudin’s word might just be worth something. “All right, then.” She walked back into the study with him following her. Sara did not look pleased.
“Pretty lengthy sojourn in the hallway.” Sara laced her hands atop the desk, tapped her fingertips, signaling she expected an explanation.
“Sorry.” Beth shrugged. “There was a parking jam in the driveway. A couple cars needed shuffling.”
Sara shifted her gaze to Boudin. “You’ll have to forgive Beth, Mr. Boudin. She’s a lousy liar, but she’s my family and she loves me.”
Beth didn’t complain. She’d earned the smack. But if Robert was involved in Boudin’s case, then this definitely was going to be one of those protective times.
“I have a family myself, Mrs. Tayton. Unlike yours, mine is riddled with thugs, thieves, and outlaws, but they’re mine.” His smile put a twinkle in his eyes. “I protect them.”
Beth harrumphed because it was expected. So long as the inhaler was back in Sara’s pocket, either of them could say anything.
Sara leaned back in her chair. “So what do you want to ask me?”
“May I?” He held up a digital recorder similar to Beth’s that had disappeared. “It’s the only way I can be sure to keep everything straight.”
“I have the same problem,” Sara said. “You have my permission to record.”
“Thank you.” He entered the date and time and those present. “How long have you known Robert Tayton?”
“Almost a year. We met at a conference in Atlanta on July third.”
“And you married—”
“August eighth. I know,” Sara said with a little smile. “It was a whirlwind relationship.”
Jeff pulled a pad from his pocket and jotted notes. It made Beth uneasy.
Boudin withheld comment and asked his next question. “Do you get along with Mr. Tayton’s family?”
Sadness crept across Sara’s face. “Unfortunately, we’ve never met. They’ve been estranged for many years.”
“How many years?”
Sara started to answer but her expression went blank and she flushed. “I don’t know.”
Now she’d chew herself up for not knowing and for not realizing she hadn’t known. Great. Viewing a sculpture, Beth dragged a fingertip over its sleek metal surface. A circle with four tails? Weird.
“Is it just his parents Mr. Tayton avoids, or is it his sisters and brothers too?”
Surprise flickered across Sara’s face. “Robert has siblings?”
That she didn’t know surprised Beth and Jeff.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Tayton.” Boudin glanced at Beth. “I was asking, not informing.”
“Oh, I see.” She let out a nervous little laugh. “He’s never mentioned siblings, so I don’t believe there are any. I’m not sure his parents are still alive. I
don’t think he even knows.” She glanced away. “Talking about them upsets him so I don’t ask questions. Whatever happened is painful for him. He refuses to speak their names.”
Beth pretended to be dispassionate and stone deaf, but what Sara didn’t know shocked her. Her husband could be anyone—and Boudin’s next question proved he thought so too.
“Did Mr. Tayton change his name because of the estrangement?”
“Robert changed his name?” Sara shuddered, putting Beth on alert. “Are you serious?”
“Again, I’m asking, not informing.” Boudin lifted a hand to halt her. “Has he ever gone by any other name?”
“Not to my knowledge.” Her tone stiffened, turned formal.
Beth understood her discomfort. They were rudimentary questions she should be able to answer and couldn’t.
“These questions seem very … strange.” Sara’s breathing grew labored and she visibly struggled to regain control.
Gauging by Jeff’s expression, he agreed. Beth cleared her throat and touched her nose.
Boudin caught the signal. “I believe that’ll do it, Mrs. Tayton. I don’t see any irrefutable similarities in the cases at this time. Thank you for talking to me.” He reached across the desk to shake her hand. “I hope Mr. Tayton soon returns safely.”
“Thank you.” She nodded and swiped at her brow, her hand shaking hard. “Jeff, would you walk me to my room? I’m not steady and I need to rest for a while.”
“Sure.” He extended an arm. “Lean on me, Sara. I’ve got you.”
What was going on? Sara should be calmer but she looked ready to shatter.
Boudin stood beside Beth, waited until Sara and Jeff were out of earshot, then said, “She thinks Robert is involved.”
“She does, and it scares her.” Beth looked up into his face. “So what do you think?”