“Well, maybe.”
“You’re a swell guy, you know that.”
“Look, Chloe, it started out me going with you because your aunt convinced me to go. And because I thought there might be a chance that Teddy was down here. But it changed along the way.”
“Changed to what? An obligation?”
“No, it wasn’t that at —”
“Let’s just get this obligatory trip over with. For Teddy, you understand. Only for Teddy.”
“Aren’t you being just a little —”
“Don’t say tender!” She pointed at him, daring him.
He raised his eyebrows at her. “I was going to say sensitive. But tender works.”
“Augh! Maybe it’s best if we’re never seen together again. After we cover Key West.”
“You don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked.
“Exactly. You’re bad for my reputation. When we get down to Key West, I want you to take me to the airport. I’m flying home.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“No, it’s not fine,” he muttered.
“We’ll be done with our mission. We won’t need to be a team anymore. Oh, but I forgot, we were never a team.”
“Chloe —”
She walked to the car and waited for him to unlock the door. “You don’t have to pretend you want to be with me anymore or even pretend you believe in me. The cat’s out of the bag. In a couple of hours, we can go back to being strangers again. That should suit you just fine.”
He leaned against the car, looking at her over the roof. “Is that what you want?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right then. Fine,” he gritted out.
“And stop saying fine!”
He paused. “Fine.”
And because she couldn’t let him get the last word in — especially that word — she said, “I was wrong. I’m not the big, dumb jerk. You are.”
CHAPTER 16
All right, so she was the big, dumb jerk. So dumb, Chloe could not stop crying during the short flight back to Naples. It wasn’t as though she’d expected anything from Dylan. Certainly not a future. Yet, she had to admit there must be some wacky part of her heart that had hoped for just that.
She kept looking down over the water and wondering where he was on his journey home.
“Are you all right?” the man next to her asked “You’re too cute to be so distressed.”
Cute. She grimaced. “I’m just tender!” Fresh tears gushed as she looked out the window again. Well, she was going to have to toughen up.
Stella was waiting at the Naples airport, looking comforting and familiar in her calico hair bow and purple sundress. Rascal popped out of her bag. It would have been a nice homecoming but for the half a dozen reporters waiting with them.
“They said your aunt’s psychic prediction led to the missing boy. How did she know?”
“Chloe! Tell us how you knew it was the missing boy.”
“Chloe, are you and Dylan McKain romantically involved?”
With puffy eyes and a tear-stained face, she faced the bevy of reporters and realized there was only one thing she could do. Well, besides crawl into a hole. She could use the publicity for Teddy.
Stella started to pull Chloe through the crowd, but she pulled back and faced the reporters.
“My aunt had nothing to do with the prediction. It was … mine. Only mine.”
“But the police report said —”
“They were wrong,” Chloe said. “They can be wrong, you know.”
“Why are you protecting your aunt?” another reporter asked. “Is it because of the girl in Sarasota?”
“I told you, Lena had nothing to do with it.” She looked at Stella, who very subtly shook her head. It didn’t matter what Chloe said. The press knew. And Lena probably hated her.
“I’m not romantically or otherwise linked to Dylan. He only came with me because I insisted his son was down there, and he wanted to look in the Keys anyway. He never believed in the vision or … in me. You all want a real news flash?” She pulled out posters from her bag and shoved one at each reporter. “Teddy McKain is still missing. Do you understand that? A little boy who has trouble communicating is still out there, and he needs our help.”
Stella took charge and grabbed Chloe by the arm. “No more questions!” she said to the reporters, dragging Chloe away. She whispered, “It’s been madness in Lilithdale since the news hit last night.”
“Lena must hate me.”
“She isn’t happy, I’ll tell you that. You promised not to let anyone know she was involved.”
“I didn’t mean to, honestly. But I had to explain why we were down there and why we broke into that house. I didn’t know there was some stupid reporter standing there listening.”
“Well, there’s nothing to do but sit it out like any ole’ hurricane.” Stella ushered them into the sunny late afternoon to Chloe’s T-Bird. “You sit, I’ll drive. Now tell me what happened.”
The whole story came out. Well, not the whole story. She did leave out some parts. “What are the Naples papers saying?”
“They’re in the back seat.”
All of the local papers and The Miami Herald had the story splashed over the front page. Mac’s parents expressed their profound gratitude and said it didn’t matter what means were used to find their son. Chloe silently thanked God when she read that Mac hadn’t been molested. The suspect was in custody, an old man who apparently was so lonely he’d taken the boy for company.
Chloe and Dylan were hailed as heroes. Teddy only got a minor mention as being the real reason for their search. Frustration and anger surged inside her. She had to get Teddy’s disappearance into the papers as a major news story again.
Yet, how could she do that without causing Dylan more trouble? The local papers brought up his involvement with her and his recent denial of same. He wasn’t going to like the insinuation that he was covertly working with some fruitcake psychic.
Lena’s past was detailed, along with snide speculation on her psychic abilities. They made fun of her Total Balance Women’s Center and reminded everyone how her last psychic revelation ended.
“Oh,” was all Chloe could say. When she looked up, she didn’t see much compassion on Stella’s face. Her stomach started aching. “You’re mad at me too, aren’t you?”
“Not mad, hon. I just hate seeing my sister go through this again. The last time … well, it nearly ripped her apart. You see how she gets all shadowed every time she even begins to get a vision.”
“I know, but this time we found the boy alive. He’s going to be all right.”
“And that would have been great if you’d kept her name out of it. There’s no help for it now. I’d steer clear of her for a couple of days. She’s like a wounded animal, licking her wounds and keeping everyone at bay. At least wait for the press to give it up.” She hesitated. “And then there’s the parents.”
Chloe lifted her head. “What parents?”
“The ones coming out of the wood begging Lena to find their child. That’s the hardest.”
Chloe had never felt so miserable in her life. She’d failed Lena, all of Lilithdale, and Dylan. Most of all, she’d failed Teddy. She’d never felt so alone in her life.
It was nearly dark when Stella dropped her off at her house. Chloe started to get out, but Stella took her arm.
“This’ll blow over, hon. It might take a while, but it will.”
Chloe nodded, wanting — no, needing — to give Stella a hug, but feeling too fragile to initiate one. She grabbed her bag from the back and walked into her house. Only when Shakespeare and Gypsy came running out to greet her did she let herself fall apart.
She took a cold shower, hoping to wash away all the regrets. It only left her with skin covered in goosebumps. And then she actually poured the pickle soup into a bowl and ate it. It tasted awful, but it was comfort food in Marilee’s warped way. Only when Chloe had eaten ev
ery last drop was she brave enough to check her answering machine.
“Dumb jerk, Dylan’s not going to be on there,” she muttered, realizing that’s what she was hoping.
He wasn’t. Two of her clients called to say they’d be doing their own books for a while. They understood she was busy with her search for Teddy and the ensuing publicity. A reporter wanted an interview. If she talked to him, she could get Teddy’s name in the news. But every time she associated herself with Teddy, she put more distance between herself and Dylan.
Despite Stella’s warning, Chloe tried calling Lena. The machine picked up. Chloe curled up on her flowered pillow and listened to that soft, warm voice she’d known all her life.
“Lena? If you’re there … or even if you’re not, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell anyone. I hadn’t thought about what I’d say if we found Teddy. I wasn’t prepared. Your name just slipped out, and someone happened to hear it. I’m so sorry about all the people calling you to help them. I’m sorry I brought all of this back to you.” Her voice broke when she said, “I hope you’ll forgive me someday. I love you.”
She hung up and let more tears fall. Gypsy climbed up on the pillow and started purring against her. She held onto her, feeling as though she was her last friend on earth, and fell asleep to the lullaby of purring.
Dylan didn’t get back to the house until near midnight. The drive was long and lonely, and he kept running his conversations with Chloe through his head. He had shared more with her than he had with anyone else. There was something about her that inspired sharing. A good reason to stay clear of her.
As if he needed another one.
Detective Yochem had called midway through the drive. “The officer assigned to your case said you weren’t cooperative.”
“I don’t like being sloughed off onto some flunky.”
“He’s not a flunky. Well, lucky you, you got me back. Listen, I want to see you tomorrow morning. I want you to take a polygraph test. Bring a lawyer if you want.”
“Am I still a suspect?”
There was a pause. “Technically, yes. There’s still the question of whether you and your wife were in cahoots before something went wrong. The test is just a formality. Once we clear you, we can focus on other areas.”
Dylan tried to maintain his cool, but it was hard. “Fine, I’ll be there. And I don’t need a lawyer.”
He noticed there weren’t any assurances this time. No ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find him.’ Nothing. They’d given up.
Well, dammit, he hadn’t. The problem was, he didn’t know where else to look. He remembered standing in Chloe’s kitchen admitting that. He might not have believed in Lena’s vision, but searching in the Keys hadn’t been a bad idea.
For the first time in his life he needed help. And he didn’t know where to find it. Friends were supposed to help. But did he have any real friends? Employees didn’t count. They were paid to help.
Camilla came out to greet him when he pulled into his driveway. “I was hoping you’d be bringing our boy back with you. But at least you saved someone else’s life.”
Dylan could only nod. Would he have traded finding Mac with finding Teddy? He felt bad for knowing that he would. Teddy might not be with some creep, but he was in just as much danger.
“Would you like a Johnny Walker?” she asked, following him into the house.
“Five of them.” He eyed the legal pad full of Camilla’s scribbles. “More psychics?”
“A bit of everything. Reporters asking about how you and Chloe found that boy. Wanting all the juicy gossip.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s all they care about. I felt like telling them that it didn’t matter if you were an alien with an eyeball in the middle of your stomach, all that mattered was finding your son.”
“You … didn’t tell them that?”
“No, of course not.”
Dylan scanned the living room. “My father?”
“At his hotel.”
“If he calls, I’m not in.”
When Camilla handed him a Scotch, he saw the tired lines on her face. “Thanks for being here. Go home and get some rest. Take tomorrow off.”
“Not if you need me.” Her face pinched into a worried frown. “You haven’t given up on finding him, have you?”
“No, but wearing yourself out isn’t going to help him come home any faster.”
“Why don’t you take that advice yourself?” She grabbed up her bag and sweater and headed toward the door. “I left some tuna salad in the fridge. Eat something with that drink.”
He wasn’t hungry, but he remembered Chloe urging him to take care of himself. And her question about what he had to give his son. Damn her. She didn’t know him. Nobody knew him. Then why was it that she could say something that ripped right to the center of him?
He stared at the amber liquid in his glass, then set it on the granite counter. He looked at all the rich finishes in his home. Not a home, but a house. A testimony to his talents and to the fact that he had it all. He provided for his family and could give them anything they wanted. But he had never given himself.
For a while he’d convinced himself he had the perfect life. The perfect home. Then why wasn’t he ever here? Because he’d never felt comfortable at home. He was the stranger who paid the bills and came home to sleep, and occasionally to take his wife to bed.
For some reason he thought about Chloe again.
She had pleasured his body, as though he were some priceless piece of art. Something to be revered. While she’d touched him, he’d wanted to let go and let himself love her. And while he’d held her in his arms, he’d felt as though he had enough inside to give her what she deserved.
But now, looking around at the world he created, he knew he’d been fooling himself. All that mattered was the façade. He’d built his whole life on it. This was all he knew.
Sometimes he felt like a boy again, trying so hard to put on the front of normalcy. It was ingrained in his soul, that need for normalcy and success. Always having to prove himself. The problem was, he wasn’t sure who he was trying to prove himself to anymore.
The next morning, Dylan woke in Teddy’s bed. His legs hung over the side, but he didn’t care. He’d felt closer to his son.
He dressed and forced himself to eat a breakfast sandwich that Camilla made. “Anything in the paper I should see?” he asked. He hated looking anymore.
“Your friend is still campaigning for Teddy.” She held up the paper. His heart jumped when he saw Chloe’s tear-stained bulldozer face. But he saw pain in her eyes. It startled him that he could see her feelings. He’d never been tuned into anyone that way before.
Chloe Samms claims credit for prediction that found missing boy, the headline read. It was apparent that the writer didn’t believe her. He speculated that she was protecting her aunt. There was also mention of Dylan and more speculation as to his relationship with her.
Then Miss Samms shoved Teddy McKain’s missing posters at the reporters and left with one final comment: “He never believed in the vision or … in me. You all want a real news flash? Teddy McKain is still missing.”
He got a funny feeling in his chest just seeing her picture and reading her words. She was the only person who’d ever had that effect on him. She was Teddy’s champion, and he’d let her down.
* * *
Jodie gave him that sympathetic smile of hers when she brought him a cup of coffee.
“What appointments have to be rescheduled today?” he asked.
“You … don’t have any appointments.”
“You already cleared my schedule?”
“You … don’t have a schedule.”
She set a pile of pink slips on his desk, and he started to sort through them.
“They’re canceled appointments, jobs taken elsewhere. Oh, they gave good excuses: financing fell through, divorce, dog died. They know you’re busy and preoccupied and that you need to focus on finding Teddy.”
<
br /> “But?”
She let out a breath. “I think they’re backing away from us. Maybe the publicity is too much. First with the psychics and that woman and…”
“And?”
“With the police suspecting you.”
He went cold at those words. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s in the paper this morning, that you’re going for a polygraph.”
Dylan swore, then ran his finger inside the collar of his shirt. It had shrunk in the last few minutes. “Evidently it’s standard procedure to suspect the parents.”
“The article said that.” She brushed her curly blond hair aside. “It seems that a source close to you said you didn’t like anything abnormal.”
The only other thing that scared Dylan besides his son being missing was that his past would be revealed. He felt a twitch in his upper lip. His crazy genes. Everything he’d fought so hard to bury. He unbuttoned the top of his collar and loosened his tie.
“Who told them that?”
“It didn’t say. But the police must be talking to everyone you know.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know you had nothing to do with your son’s disappearance.”
“Thanks. We’ll find Teddy, and everything will be cleared up.”
Now he was the one spouting vague assurances, and she eagerly bought them. Perhaps as eagerly as he had once bought them.
Two hours later Dylan met with Yochem about the results of the lie detector test.
“Your mother tried to kill your father with a butcher knife?” he asked.
“Yes.” The interview had delved into his past, particularly instances of domestic violence. He’d tried to keep his face and responses neutral as anger had raged inside him. Maybe the lie detector had picked up on his anger, and maybe that anger looked like guilt.
Yochem nodded. “Tough life.”
“I survived.” I’m not going to ask if I passed, you bastard.
“You didn’t bring a lawyer.”
Dylan’s fingers tightened around the metal arms of the chair. “I told you, I don’t need a lawyer. Now can you start focusing your manpower on finding my son instead of me?”
A Trick of the Light Page 19