“Maybe, but I think it was probably more than that. My mother told him he was wasting his time. It became an obsession. And then one day he came in and he was crying. He couldn’t speak. I’d never seen him cry before. He wasn’t that kind of man.”
“Because he had seen it?”
“Yeah. But he didn’t take a photograph. He said he hadn’t been able to move—he’d just sat there, watching it. He was so happy, Jerry. I’d never seen him so happy. He took me back with him that night. And we sat together on the ground, among the damp leaves, and he described it to me. And he made it sound magical. He said it was beautiful, but not as beautiful as me. And then he told me that he loved me. It was the only time he ever said it. In my whole life it was the only time he ever said it. But I can’t be sure that he meant it, because I don’t know who he saw when he looked at me. I don’t know if that was a good day or a bad day. If the bird wasn’t there, if it wasn’t ever really there, in Tall Oaks, then he can’t of meant it, can he?”
“This is beautiful, Al, really top notch. What is it again?” Manny asked.
“It’s called burek. It used to be Furat’s favorite when she was a little girl,” Mrs. Al-Basri replied.
“It’s still my favorite,” Furat said.
“It can’t be. I’ve seen how quickly you eat a Big Mac.”
Everybody laughed.
“So how are you settling in to Tall Oaks?” Elena asked, while she pulled Thalia’s bib tight around her neck. Thalia was wearing her new, yellow dress, and seemed intent on destroying it.
“Jesus, Ma, I can’t fucking breathe,” Thalia said.
Elena held her head in her hands.
Manny glanced at Furat, both tried not to laugh.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Al-Basri. You see, Manny has Tourette’s, at least I hope he does, otherwise he’s just a foul-mouthed idiot, and Thalia picks up on all the cursing.”
“Don’t worry about it, Elena, Furat has already explained. And please, call me Aarfah.”
“Can I call you Art?” Manny asked.
Furat laughed. Elena shook her head.
“No, why don’t you just stick with Al.” Aarfah said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you asked how we were settling in. Very well actually. My husband sends his apologies for not being here by the way. He’s flown to New York to visit some friends from Iraq.”
Manny raised an eyebrow. Furat shot him a look.
“I love it too. It’s a lovely place to bring up children. The schools are excellent.”
“Yes, we did a lot of research on the Internet before we moved. And with Doctor Livingstone retiring it seemed a perfect fit. A ready-made practice to take over. And it’s such a pretty town, with one of the lowest crime rates in the whole country, although if you search for Tall Oaks now then the first pages that come up are stories about Harry Monroe. Every time I think about it I can’t believe it all happened here, and not long before we moved in.”
Manny nodded. “I think about him all the time, especially when I go to pick Thalia up from preschool. They used to play together.”
“Do you still see his mother? I mean, aside from what happened at the carnival? Furat told me—it must have been awful.”
“It was, especially for Jared, poor guy. I worry about Jess. We used to get together with the kids. When her husband Michael—a real asshole by the way—walked out on them, she kind of went to pieces. I chased her for months, trying to get her to come out of the house but she used to make her excuses. I went round there a couple of times and she looked awful. I don’t think she had slept for days. She loved Michael so much. When we first got together for a meal, back when Danny was still around, Jess asked me not to wear anything too revealing, in case Michael stared at me. Strange right?”
Furat nodded. “Some women are like that though. They have low self-esteem. It’s sad.”
“And then . . . Harry. He was her whole world. You should have seen the way she looked at him. I mean, I love Thalia, and Manny’s okay once you get to know him.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Manny said.
“But with Harry, she worshipped the ground he walked on. We’d have play dates in the park, Harry loved the statue, Artemis. All the kids do. He’d want to climb it but she would never let him. She used to freak out about him getting hurt. She wouldn’t even let him play on the slide. I used to ask her about it and she just said that she was scared; scared that something bad might happen to him. And, as much as she loved Michael, I used to get the feeling that she was scared of him too.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, one time I was round at her house and Michael was due back that evening. He’d been away somewhere on business. She was cleaning the place, and not just dusting and vacuuming—she had all the food out of the cupboards and she was wiping it down. The cans, she was wiping the cans. I think Michael was some kind of control freak.”
Manny helped himself to another piece of burek. Furat smiled at him and he winked back at her. She was amazed that he hadn’t cursed yet, though they were still only on the first course. He looked handsome in his light blue shirt and dark pants. Now that his head had healed, and he’d had his hair cut for prom, he looked really good.
“I tried to be there for her. I tried everything. I used to go to her mother’s house to see her, but she would never come down from her bedroom. The few times I’ve seen her in town she just smiles and rushes off before I can speak to her. I just wish we could help her, but without Harry, or Michael, I don’t think she can be helped. It’s just so sad.”
Jared stood in front of the mirror and practiced his smile. The dinner suit was Armani. The jacket felt snug on his shoulders, fitted, to the untrained eye. The shirt was Yves Saint Laurent—a nice bright, white that complemented the Armani perfectly. And the bow tie was Tom Ford, a sparking champagne color that added a touch of style to what could have otherwise been a rather bland look. There were still two days until the wedding so he would have time to go over everything in his head, think up some good conversation starters and perfect his dance moves. There was a video on the Internet that showed him the basics—waltz, tango and fox-trot. He should have really known the steps by now, but being a small-town boy meant black-tie events were not something he was accustomed to. And he’d have the best looking lady in the room on his arm so had better not fuck anything up.
This would be his last date with Elena. He knew that now. And then he would move on. He always knew that there would come a time when he’d have to stop running, stop hiding too. And that time was nearly upon him. There were things he couldn’t undo; things that he’d have to live with. He was tired now. He was still shaken from the attack. He had a small bruise on his head and dark lines beneath each eye. He wouldn’t press charges against Jessica Monroe. That would be a stupid thing to do. The cop had been grateful about that when he’d stopped by to check he was okay. Hopefully grateful enough to leave him alone for a few days, so he could say goodbye.
He’d make things right again. He’d start to move toward home, but he’d have to make a stop along the way. And then, when he made it back, he’d beg forgiveness. Say that he’d lost his way but now he had found God again. They’d like that.
He could fix everything, he hoped—there was still time.
It wasn’t too late for him.
“Fits like a glove,” Roger said as he looked into the mirror.
“A latex glove,” Henrietta replied.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a little tight, darling, especially across the shoulders. It looks as though you’re wearing a straitjacket.”
Roger flexed his biceps and heard an awful sound. Stitches snapping.
“I think I should be commended for getting into it in the first place. There’s not many men that could still fit into their graduation suit.”
“There’s not many men that would want to.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that styles have changed over the last thirty years.”
“Yes, but class never goes out of fashion. And a Gieves & Hawkes suit is pure class. It would have been fine, but in case you haven’t noticed I’ve gotten a little bigger in the muscle department.”
She peered over her glasses at him. “You do look a little bit bigger. What on earth have you been doing at that gym? You’ve only been going a few weeks.”
“Ah, well, I have a Russian.”
“A Russian?”
“Yes. And he works me hard this Russian. Really knows how to get inside of me and stoke the old fire.”
“I’m not even going to touch that one.”
Roger laughed, and she began to laugh. But then it caught in her throat and turned into a cry. Just like that. Abrupt, without warning.
And then the tears were streaming, and she was struggling. Because the time had come, she felt it. It wouldn’t get any easier.
He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in his.
“Hen, what’s the matter? It can’t go on, all of this crying.”
She took a breath, composing herself. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been a bit under the weather that’s all. I’ll be better soon. Forget about it. Anyway, you have enough to worry about. You have to get a new suit now, and there’re only two days until the wedding.”
He nodded, wiping her tears away.
“How do we know the McDermotts again?”
“Family friends. They’re very wealthy, and flashy with it too, so it should be quite an event. I called in to see French John, in the patisserie, and he said the cake would be the death of him. Apparently she’s quite a demanding bride. Roger? Are you listening to me?”
He looked up at her and she could see something in his eyes.
She wondered if he knew.
“Have you read about this?” Elena said, pointing at the newspaper.
“What is it?” French asked, glancing over.
“This guy in Despair. Sounds like he might die.”
“Yeah, I saw it. It’s on all the front pages.”
“It says here he’s been convicted of battery seven times, twice against a woman.”
“Sounds like a peach. I’m sure he’ll be missed.”
“They’re all like that over there.”
“Snobby,” he said, laughing.
“Seriously. I mean, who’d want to live in a town called Despair?”
“It’s actually quite beautiful in parts.”
“I forgot to ask—how was it with Louise? Was it awful?” Elena said.
“No, actually she was quite pleased. I think, were it not for all the Botox, that she might have been trying to smile.”
“Wow. High praise indeed. Did she notice that you’ve changed the shade of the flowers?”
He crouched by the cake. “I’m not sure she’s intelligent enough to tell the time, let alone notice a subtle change to the shade of icing on her own wedding cake.”
“But she was happy anyway?”
“She said it was exactly the kind of more that she had wanted the first time round.”
“I hope you made her pay for it.”
“I added a thousand dollars to her father’s bill. That ought to teach her a lesson.”
“I don’t think they’ll even notice.”
“Why is he so rich anyway? I mean, it’s not like Tall Oaks is Beverly Hills. Billionaires stand out around here.”
“I don’t really know. Something to do with real estate I think. I’ve met the son a few times. He’s in Manny’s class.”
He stepped away from the cake. It was magnificent, the finest work he had ever created.
“Is the son as brain dead as the daughter?”
“Maybe more so. Dylan McDermott has that air about him, you know, like he’s been spoiled to the point of ruin. There’s no backbone in kids like that. No appreciation for anything. If it all comes that easy then why would there be? When I met him he looked down on me, if that’s possible for a kid to do. I could have slapped his pretty face, seen if there was any fight in him. Give me Manny any day of the week, cursing and all.”
“So, you’re bringing Jared with you? How is he? I heard about Jess.”
“He was shaken. Hard not to be. But he was nice about it too. We all know what she’s going through. She needs help though. She can’t go on like this.”
“Well I’m glad he’s okay.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him again. It’s nice to spend time with him.”
“Are you thinking that Saturday night might be the night?”
She shrugged. “Who knows. It’s been long enough though. And what about you? Is Richard going to grace us with his presence?”
He shook his head. “I never even said I was seeing him. You just assumed . . .”
“Trouble in paradise?” she said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s close up for an hour, get some lunch. You can tell me all about it.”
“Okay. But there’s really nothing to tell.”
“Tearoom? You can get those scones you love.”
“How about Bel Canto?”
“Wow, French. You feeling flush?”
“I’ve got the McDermotts’ money to spend now.”
“Champagne all round.”
He laughed.
Jerry stood by the bed. The plate was where he’d left it, untouched. The drapes were still drawn. The air was thick. He wanted to open a window but worried about waking her. She needed to sleep. He’d done more research. She’d sleep for longer at this stage.
He stood above her, trying to see her face but it was so dark in the room he could barely make her out.
He walked over to the chair by her dressing table and sat down.
He was going to be out of a job. The PhotoMax was closing and he’d be out of a job. His eyes felt heavy, his muscles ached. He hadn’t eaten for days. He thought about Lisa, about her father. He’d liked it when she said he was odd, because his family was odd too. And that made him wonder if everybody was odd in their own way.
He left the bedroom and walked down the stairs slowly. They creaked loudly under his weight. He passed the living room, the tick of the clock louder than it had ever been, and then he walked into his dark room.
Mom was dying. She wouldn’t have long left. Then he’d be on his own.
The fan spun slowly. Jim stared up at it. He didn’t bother switching the lights on in his apartment. He kept the blinds open. The moonlight bounced off the walls.
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Jim.”
Michael’s voice was smooth on the tape, lulling.
Jim turned up the volume, though not too loud. It was late and the neighbor had a kid.
“What should I be asking?”
Jim sipped his beer, wondered where Jess was. Somewhere, with someone.
He could hear the whispered voice of Michael’s lawyer telling him to shut the fuck up.
“My lawyer’s telling me to shut the fuck up.”
“They always say that.”
He heard Michael laugh.
“Why aren’t you worried?”
“I am.”
“You don’t sound worried. You called your lawyer. You waited for him before you spoke to us. You didn’t rush back from Houston.”
“I couldn’t get a flight.”
“You seem calm.”
“It’s just how I am.”
“Your son is missing. Every second counts. We need to find him fast. He’s out there, Michael. Someone’s taken him.”
They broke then. Michael’s lawyer went to get coffee, Michael went to take a piss.
Jim grabbed another beer from the fridge, opened it and sipped the froth from the top. He could still see the bruising on his knuckles, thought he might have broken a bone. It would heal. He looked in the freezer for something to eat, a meal he could put straight in the microwave. It was empty. He sipped his beer again as he walked back into the living room.
“Tell me about Jess.”
“What about her?”<
br />
“Why did you leave?”
“She’s needy.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Is she a good mother?”
“She loves Harry. So yeah . . . but not a good wife.”
“What’s a good wife?”
“A dead one.”
He heard Michael laugh, his lawyer whisper something again.
“He thinks you don’t know that I’m joking. I have to make it clear that was a joke.”
He skipped forward.
“Business.”
“What kind of business?”
“Hedge fund.”
“You’ve had a tough couple of years.”
“Like everybody else.”
“Tell me about Aurora Springs.”
“What about it?”
“You put a lot of money in. Your clients did too. What went wrong?”
“The economy. People can’t afford the luxury of a second home. Construction costs were higher than we thought too. Everybody’s got their hand out.”
“You went there often.”
“So?”
“With Cindy Collins.”
“She’s my assistant. It’s business.”
Jim laughed. “So you’ve shut the site down now?”
“Temporarily.”
“You ran out of money. A lot of clients pulled funds out.”
“Why ask questions if you already know the answers, Jim?”
“Jess kept you afloat.”
“Not really.”
“So you didn’t ask her to invest?”
“No.”
“So she just decided to? She’s savvy like that?”
“Her family’s got so much they don’t know where to put it.”
He skipped forward again.
“Domestic abuse. Jess called us herself.”
He skipped forward again“She retracted her statement in full, didn’t press charges. You guys let me go, remember, Jim?”
“Why’d you hit her?”
Michael sighed. “No comment.”
“You ever hit Harry?”
“No.”
“But you hit your wife.”
“You’re fishing, Jim. It’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME.”
Tall Oaks: A gripping missing child thriller with a devastating twist Page 20