by Cate Beauman
“It is. Thirty rooms in all. It’s a monster to heat and cool.” Neve chuckled. “But I love it. There are so many good memories here—bad ones too, but I hold on to the good ones. If I listen close enough, I can hear Noah and Ally laughing as they wreak havoc down the halls.” They turned down another hallway. “When we knew you—Alyson was on the way, we decided to make Noah and his new brother or sister a nursery suite. A room for Noah, Baby Porter, and for the other children we planned to have. I wanted a house full.”
“But you didn’t have any more.”
“After Alyson was taken, I focused on finding her and raising Noah.” Neve opened the door to the nursery suite, and Julie braced herself for…something.
She walked in and looked at a TV area with cozy, plush furnishings and peeked in a toy room still full of toys a young girl and boy would enjoy.
“Noah and Ally loved to play in there for hours. I never could throw anything out. Even after Noah outgrew it all—and Ally. I’ve pretty much left everything as is.”
Julie walked into the bathroom decorated with friendly fish and turned back, gripping the doorframe when her legs went weak as she stared at the large portrait of Alyson and the boy she was almost certain haunted her dreams. “Who is that?”
“Noah. My sweet Noah and Ally.”
She swallowed and shuddered out a long breath. “They were—they were close.”
Neve smiled at the picture. “Peas and carrots their dad would always say. Of course you fought.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Noah and Ally fought from time to time, but mostly they simply adored each other. Noah was gentle and understanding—nurturing—and Ally was a ball of beautiful life.” Neve led Julie into a room decorated in different shades of green and various dinosaurs. “This was Noah’s room. After Alyson was stolen, we moved him out of here. I couldn’t stand the idea of him being in here anymore.” Neve crossed her arms at her chest and walked out, clearly upset.
“We can go if this is too difficult.” She was struggling not to flee herself.
“No. I need for you to see.”
Julie followed Neve into the next room and stopped. Pink and white, like in her dream, but as she took it all in now, the images were foggy.
“This was Ally’s room.” Neve slid her hand over the delicate curtains. “I’ve come in here so many times over the years, wondering what she was like as she was growing, waiting for my girl to come home.”
“How do you know she’s not—”
Neve faced her. “Dead?”
She nodded, hating that she couldn’t stop herself from asking such a horrid question.
“Because my heart never felt empty—broken, yes, but not completely empty.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to describe. Mother’s intuition, I guess.”
Julie walked over to the tiny bed decorated with Ariel, Sebastian, and Flounder from The Little Mermaid and touched the yellow bear nestled against the pillow. “Smiley,” she murmured, sliding her fingers over the soft stuffed animal.
Neve’s startled eyes flew to hers. “What?”
“I said Smiley.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
Neve pressed her lips together and nodded. “Would you like to see pictures of Alyson, maybe get an idea of what her life was like during the years she lived here with her family?”
She looked at the bear again. “Okay.”
Neve took Julie down to the end of the hall, bringing her into a massive bedroom. “This is my room.” She stepped into a huge walk-in closet easily the size of Julie’s living room back in Bakersfield and pulled out several photo albums. “These are Ally’s.”
Julie’s eyes widened. “All of these?”
“I think we took pictures of her every time she blinked.” Neve chuckled. “She was such a beautiful little girl. Come sit down with me and we’ll take a look.”
Julie sat at Neve’s side and opened the first book. She studied pictures of Neve pregnant and smiling, sitting on a handsome man’s lap.
“Jay. Alyson’s dad.” Neve touched his image. “He was such a good man.”
“He passed away?”
Neve nodded. “A heart attack. Almost seven years ago now. He never got to see her again. He wanted to as much as I do.”
Julie handed Neve a tissue as her eyes grew misty. “I’m sorry.”
“He adored her.” She dabbed at her cheeks. “She was definitely a daddy’s girl.”
Julie studied the man again and saw a stranger. She turned the page and looked at a sweaty Neve cradling a baby girl just born.
“I told them I was going to be the first person to touch my girl. I pushed for two hours and finally, there she was.”
Julie flipped the page again, taking in newborn pictures and a two-year-old Noah holding his infant sister for the camera.
The days and months passed by as they leafed through half a dozen albums: Alyson with her father or Neve, her brother and her holding hands on several vacations or playing with Play-Doh or swimming in the pool in the backyard. A teenager appeared from time to time holding Alyson or Noah’s hand at a park.
“That’s Becky.” Neve pointed out. “She was babysitting the night Alyson was stolen.”
Julie looked at her, young and pretty, smiling with braces on her teeth. “How did they take her?”
“The police think the abductor came in through the balcony doors. They were always locked. Always. There were no fingerprints—no evidence of anything significant, but it seems to make the most sense. As I mentioned, we had the ball that night. There were a hundred people in attendance, but no one saw anything. If it hadn’t been for the note, it would have been easy to believe Ally simply vanished into thin air.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “We waited for days for someone, anyone, to call. I stayed close to the phone for weeks, but there was nothing. I thought I would go insane with not knowing. Maybe I did a little, but Noah needed his mother and Ally needed me to be strong and think so I could find her and bring her home.”
Julie looked at the picture of Neve snuggling her daughter close at a birthday party, the adoration between the two unmistakable, and glanced at Neve now, twenty-five years later, feeling a wave of sympathy. “It must have been awful.”
She nodded. “Even when we lost Jay so unexpectedly, it was somehow less painful than the night Ally was taken. I know Jay is in another place—a perfect place—but I’ve always wondered about Ally. Was she being treated well? Was she cold and hungry?” She dabbed at her eyes again.
“What if the babysitter had something to do with it?”
“I accused her. More than once, as did the police. And I hurt poor Becky dearly. But I came to my senses, and knew she could never have done such a thing. She lives about twenty minutes from here. She has a family of her own. Her kids are just a few years younger than you. She never went back to college after Ally vanished.”
“What’s her name?”
“Becky Maglio. She married a handsome Italian man.” Neve looked at her watch and gasped. “Oh my goodness. The time has gotten away from me.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “I have to go. There are home movies and more family albums in the closet if you want to keep looking.”
Julie nodded. “Thank you.”
Neve gave herself a once over in the mirror, adjusting the clip holding back her hair, and started toward the door.
Julie looked down at the picture of Neve and Alyson snuggled together. “Neve.”
Neve turned. “Yes?”
“She—she had a good life.”
Neve’s eyes softened. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Julie turned to the next page, to Alyson’s third birthday party. In one of the pictures, she unwrapped the yellow bear. “She got the bear for her birthday.”
“She did. She and Noah named him Smiley.”
Julie’s gaze flew to Neve’s as the fear rushed back.
“We’ll talk more later if you like.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“
I’ll see you for dinner tonight? Noah and Elaine, my long-time assistant, will be here.”
Sweat beaded on her forehead and her stomach hitched as she nodded again.
“I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Neve left and Julie rushed to her feet, dropping the book that opened to another picture of Alyson Porter smiling at her mother. The bear’s name was Smiley, and she’d known.
She hurried down the hall to Alyson’s room and walked inside, taking everything in. She didn’t remember this place, but she knew the bear’s name and recognized the boy in the picture. Alyson’s brother, Noah.
“God. God,” she shuddered out, running down the hall to the room she was staying in now, catching a whiff of Chase on the air as she opened her laptop, punching in Alyson Porter missing into the search engine with trembling fingers. That’s where she knew Noah’s face from; that’s how she knew the stuffed animal’s name. There had to be pictures of Noah and a mention of the bear—maybe one of Alyson’s favorite toys.
Neve Porter had kept Alyson’s disappearance in the media for twenty-five years. Surely she’d heard of it and didn’t realize. She’d probably seen a news clip or something. She flipped through mentions of the yearly press conferences Neve held on the anniversary of Alyson’s kidnapping, but there was nothing about Noah, no photos in the press until he was mostly grown and taking over as head of Porter Pharmaceuticals after Jay Porter died.
She stopped on a picture she’d never seen before, and her breath shuddered out. Noah looked like Neve as well. There was certainly some of his father mixed in—mostly in the jawline and ears, but the resemblance was definitely there. Shaking her head, she looked for something about the bear but found nothing.
She stood, and stars danced in front of her eyes with the suffocating sense of terror, so she sat again. She needed to talk to Becky. Becky Maglio. She wanted to know exactly what happened the night Alyson Porter disappeared. Flipping to a new screen, she searched the white pages, finding Marco and Becky Maglio’s phone number. Before she could change her mind, she dialed and let it ring.
“Hello?”
“Yes, good morning. May I speak to Becky please?”
“This is Becky.”
What should she say? “Becky, my name is Julie Keller. I’m staying with Neve Porter. She and I were speaking this morning and going through some old pictures—”
“Are you the woman Neve thinks is Ally?”
She pressed a hand to her mouth, nodding. Then she remembered to speak. “Yes.”
“I don’t know what I can do for you.”
“I’m hoping we can talk.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Noah said—”
She frowned. “Noah Porter?”
“Yes.”
“I need to know.” She squeezed her thumb and middle finger to her throbbing temples. “I need to know who I am.”
There was a long pause. “Okay.”
“Okay. We could meet somewhere, anywhere you want.”
“Tomorrow. Come to my house tomorrow at nine.”
Now. She wanted to demand that they meet right this second, but tomorrow would have to be soon enough. “I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“Do you need directions?”
“No, I have the address right here.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Hanging up, she nibbled her lip. What did Noah Porter say to Alyson’s former babysitter, and why was she doing this? This was pointless—foolish really. As soon as Chase came home they were leaving. They were going back to Washington. She wasn’t Alyson Porter. She searched for a cab company and dialed, desperate to get out of here.
“Hello. Yellow Cab.”
“Yes. I need a taxi please at one twenty-five Cowen Drive, Newton.”
“We have someone in the area. I can have him there in just a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” She hung up and her phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Chase.”
Her eyes filled at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, knowing he wouldn’t buy it if she didn’t settle down. “Just a hectic morning.”
“How’s it going?”
“Fine. I was just getting ready to head into the city.”
“Jules.” He sighed in her ear. “I’m not going to be able to make it back for dinner.”
She sunk to the bed with a new sense of dread. “Oh, okay.”
“I think I’m going to have to stay the night. We’ve run into quite a few problems—”
“That’s okay.”
“Jules—”
She stood, pacing, too keyed up to stay still. “No. Really. Things are fine here, so you do what you need to do.”
“I’ll definitely be back tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.”
“There’s nothing to make up. You’re working. I’m going shopping.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Bye.” She looked out the window, saw the cab waiting by the gate, and glanced at her suitcase, debating whether she was going to head to the airport on her own, but she couldn’t do that to Chase. She grabbed her purse instead, and bundled up in her jacket and hat and hurried down the stairs.
“Ms. Ally, are you going out?” Ferra asked, holding a big box of Christmas decorations.
She grit her teeth as Ferra moved her way. “My name is Julie.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Ms. Julie.”
“I’m going into the city for a while. I’ll be back later.”
“For dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Enjoy your day, then.”
“I will.” She hurried to the cab pulling around the circle and got in.
“Where to?” The cabbie asked.
Anywhere but here. “A tourist attraction. You pick.”
The man looked in the rearview mirror. “A tourist attraction, huh?”
“Please.” She rested her head against the seat as they pulled through the gate to the main road.
“I’m taking you to Faneuil Hall—you can eat at Quincy Market. There’s shopping. It’s a good place.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Okay then. Faneuil Hall, it is.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Julie sat in the restaurant, staring at the teriyaki-glazed salmon and wilted spinach on her plate instead of eating it. She poked at the dark leafy greens with her fork and twisted her wrist, glancing at her watch as she’d done several times, struggling with another pang of guilt. It was eight thirty, and she was long overdue for the Porter’s seven o’ clock dinner. She’d called Ferra at six forty-five, excusing herself from the meal at the last minute, but even now she was thoroughly ashamed of her exceptionally rude behavior. Neve had been expecting her, and she was supposed to meet Noah and Elaine, but after her unsettling morning, she hadn’t been able to make herself go back to the Porter Mansion.
Luckily the rest of her day had been wonderful. The moment the cabbie dropped her off among the glorious chaos of Faneuil Hall, she’d been able to tuck nursery suite tours and yellow teddy bears to the back of her mind and pretend there was no possibility she was Alyson Porter. She’d treated herself to a warm, soft-baked pretzel as she wandered through the stores and bought small gifts for Mindy, Bryce, and Meadow. When she was finished there, she braved the winds whipping off the Atlantic and walked the few short blocks to the Boston Aquarium, where she’d lost herself in the wonders of dozens of sea creatures. By the time the sun began to set in the winter sky, she’d hailed a cab, fully intending to head back to Newton, but asked the cabbie to drop her off at his favorite restaurant instead.
Disgusted with herself, she pushed her mostly untouched plate away and sighed. Mom had raised her better than this. Nowhere on her birth certificate did it say Julie You’re-A-Wimp Keller. She had to go back and face the music. Grabbing two bills from her purse, she tucked twenty-five dollars under t
he saucer of her teacup, a decent chunk of her dwindling cash, and walked outside into the frigid winds, hailing another cab. Within moments, she was taking her seat in the back, welcoming the warmth as she settled her bags next to her. “One-twenty-five Cowen Drive. Newton.”
“Sure thing.”
She stared out the window as the taxi jockeyed through the downtown traffic heading toward the suburbs. Minutes ticked by far too quickly, and the cabbie pulled up to the fancy gate.
“This your place?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his loaded question. “I have no idea.”
Frowning, he looked over his shoulder.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Yes. If you just push the black button by the camera, someone will let us in.”
The man did as she instructed.
“Who’s there please?” Ferra’s voice carried through the intercom.
“Julie,” Julie told the cabbie.
“ABC Cab Company with Julie.”
The gate slid open, and the cab pulled in, passing the shield of evergreens. “Wow,” Julie whispered, staring in awe as she had not even twenty-four hours ago. Neve’s staff had indeed been busy with Christmas preparations. The house was outlined with white lights, candles glowed in every window, and a huge wreath hung on the front door.
“Incredible,” the cabbie said as he pulled up to the door.
“It is.” She paid him. “Thank you.”
“Happy Holidays.”
“You too.” She got out, shutting the door, and took a steadying breath as she hurried up the steps and rang the bell.
Neve opened the door, wearing navy blue tailored slacks and a white blouse with her hair down. “Julie.”
She stepped inside, dealing with a fresh wave of guilt. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.”
“That’s okay.”
She shook her head. “I was incredibly rude. I’m sorry.”
“We’ll try again tomorrow night.”
“I’ll be here.”
Neve frowned. “Where’s Chase?”
“He’s stuck in Portland until sometime tomorrow.” She took off her jacket and folded it over her arm, looking around at the twists of white lights and garland trailing up the staircase banisters—simple, elegant. “Ferra and Thomas did an amazing job.”