by Sharon Potts
Gertrude lifted her left hand and wagged her pinkie. “I’m sure you’re curious about this.”
She was. The finger appeared to be intact, but Gertrude had been identified by the print from her pinkie found in the aftermath of the explosion.
Gertrude gripped her left pinkie with her right hand, gave a tug, then held up the top joint of the finger with a spiraling ring still wound around it.
“Jesus,” Diana said.
“I never take it off,” she said. “Larry once asked why I always wear my pinkie ring. I told him it’s sentimental.” She pursed her lips. “I wonder if he’s dead yet. I spoke with his physician before they took him in to surgery. He said Larry would probably have extensive brain damage if he lived.”
Diana didn’t believe the surgeon would have said that. More likely Gertrude was trying to get a rise out of her. All of this had been to get Diana’s attention—Ethan’s kidnapping, Jonathan’s death, Larry’s accident. And now, here they were for their final confrontation.
Gertrude’s phone rang. She glanced at the display, touched a button, and the ringing stopped.
Diana needed to defuse her, to bring her down. At least until she could get Ethan to safety.
“How did you escape from the explosion?” Diana asked softly. “Everyone was sure you were dead.”
Gertrude rubbed the knob of her finger. “I stumbled away from the blast. Some friends let me hide until I was able to get away to Mexico.”
“I can’t begin to imagine the agony you’ve been through,” Diana said.
“That’s right. You can’t.” Gertrude fixed her blue eyes on Diana. Back in college, her eyes often looked violet, altered by the pink-lensed glasses she always wore. Now, the black pupils throbbed in the way Diana remembered them doing when Gertrude became enraged.
“I’m sorry, Gertrude. I know you think I turned on you, but I didn’t. I was trying to protect you and everyone in the group.”
Gertrude shook her head. “You wanted to be sure we wouldn’t blow up Low Library. Was that your idea of a good outcome?”
Diana didn’t answer. Arguing would only inflame her further.
“Another revolutionary group fails, and the government gets to keep on murdering. That was your solution?” Gertrude practically spat the words. “Stormdrain would have been for nothing.”
“We had an impact,” Diana said. “Stormdrain and all the others who went out to protest the war. The government had started paying attention to us.”
“They were killing our brothers,” Gertrude said, her eyes roaming over the floral-patterned sofa as though she hadn’t heard Diana. “Killing them to feed their own greed. We had to bring the war home. It was the only way to stop them.” Her eyes paused on Diana. “I told you that was the only way to get their attention. Someone had to die.”
“Yes, I know you believed that was the way.”
Gertrude smacked the coffee table with her open hand. “It was the way! If you hadn’t interfered, we would have succeeded. We could have killed hundreds. We would have been heard. Instead, we became hunted animals. I was forced to go into hiding.”
“I’m so sorry,” Diana said, but Gertrude didn’t seem to be listening.
“He promised he would come for me,” Gertrude said. Her eyes were no longer throbbing with anger. There was something else there. Sadness or hurt.
“He said we’d live in Mexico. Puerto Vallarta, or maybe Cabo. I believed him.”
Who was she talking about?
“I found ways to get him messages, but he never replied.” She turned to Diana abruptly. “He lied to me.”
“Who? Jonathan?” Was that why Gertrude killed him?
Gertrude gave her an odd look. “You never got it, did you?”
“Got what?” Diana said. How was she going to save Ethan from this madwoman?
Gertrude gave her a little smile. “I was pregnant. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, either. It was Jonathan’s.”
Diana felt a spasm of pain. Pregnant? By Jonathan?
“Janis was born in October 1970. Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix had just died. I thought my daughter should begin her life with an important name.”
Jonathan had told Diana none of this. But he was dead now. There would be no explanations from him.
“Did he know about Janis?” Diana asked.
Gertrude shook her head. “At least you can take some small comfort in that.”
Poor Jonathan. Killed by this woman, and he’d never known about the deep grudge she’d carried against him all these years. Diana struggled to push her thoughts away from him. If she kept Gertrude talking, maybe that would satisfy her need for revenge. Maybe she’d realize she had already taken enough.
“How did you survive with a baby and no money?”
“I turned tricks for a while,” Gertrude said. “Then when I realized my knight wasn’t coming to rescue me, I reinvented myself into a sweet southern belle with a little surgery and cotillion lessons. I married an old crook who was happy to live out his final years in bliss. Of course, they ended sooner than he was expecting, and I came away with a few million and lots of free time to plan things.”
“You mean getting even with me and Jonathan.”
Gertrude smiled. “And Larry.”
Of course. Gertrude hated both her and Larry for going to the FBI.
Gertrude’s phone rang again. She glanced at the display, then over at the closed drapes. She ignored the call. “I kept up with you and Larry,” Gertrude continued. “First with PIs, then things became easier with the Internet. I wanted to be sure you were thinking of me, too, so I had a little fun with a delusional janitor who believed I was an actual Greek goddess. I convinced him he was Jeffrey Schwartz, and with the facts and figures I fed him about April Fool, I understand he really had the FBI and media going. In fact, my PI told me that Schwartz’s reemergence shook up your marriage quite a bit.”
So Gertrude had been behind the mysterious Jeffrey Schwartz.
“I decided I didn’t want to keep watching you two from the sidelines, but I was in no hurry to take Larry away from you. I knew the right moment would come along. And it did—just in time for a big wedding.”
Kevin’s wedding.
“I persuaded Larry to ask for a divorce when I knew you were most vulnerable.” Gertrude touched her cheek where the beauty mark had once been. “I had Larry so bewitched, it was easy to convince him you didn’t go to Kevin’s wedding because you faked your illness.”
Gertrude had even contrived the rift between Diana and her son.
“For six years, I enjoyed being on the inside and seeing you alienated from your family.” She twirled the ring around her index finger. It was shaped like a serpent. “I probably would have been satisfied maintaining the status quo, but you ruined that yourself.”
“I started dating Jonathan,” Diana said.
“There didn’t seem to be any justice in it, ya know what I mean? You get everything, and I get screwed.”
“I never intentionally hurt you.”
“No one ever does,” Gertrude said. “People fuck you and don’t know they’re fucking you. They kill your dreams. They kill the ones you love.” She was starting to speak more quickly, becoming agitated. “Where’s the justice in that? Would you tell me? Where’s the fucking justice?”
She was crazy, crazier than Diana had ever seen her in college. Talking her down only seemed to agitate her, which wasn’t helping Ethan. Would begging help?
“You’ve won, Gertrude. You took Larry from me. You’ve killed Jonathan. You’ve broken me.”
“You think so?” Gertrude said, staring at her ring. “And here I think I’m just getting started.”
CHAPTER 49
Gertrude wasn’t answering her phone. It was clear to Aubrey that everyone was becoming increasingly worried, especially McDonough, who paced back and forth in the small space in the van.
Aubrey watched McDonough hit Gertrude’s number again—his third attempt.
It had been fifteen minutes since they’d last spoken.
Aubrey understood the agent’s feeling of uselessness. She sat in the back of the van, picking up bits and pieces of information, mostly from Smolleck’s phone conversations. He had contacted someone to check into Gertrude Morgenstern’s brother but hadn’t heard back. Then Detective Gonzalez came by to report that Janis Hendrix had calmed down enough to talk about what had happened.
Aubrey wasn’t able to keep silent. “Where’s Ethan?” she asked the detective. “Is he okay?”
Gonzalez looked exhausted. “Janis doesn’t know where he is.”
“What does that mean?” Aubrey said. “She was with him, wasn’t she?”
“She said she left Ethan sleeping in a bedroom on the third floor and went downstairs to get instructions from her mother. When she got back to the bedroom, Ethan was gone.”
“Gone?”
“She searched the apartments on the third floor but couldn’t find him. She panicked and wrapped a pillow in a blanket, pretending it was Ethan.”
“Why would she do that?” Aubrey said.
Gonzalez’s thick eyebrows came together in a scowl. “She knew that without Ethan, the swap would never take place. And she had to get out of there. Apparently her mother told her that if she walked out on her own, the police would shoot her dead.”
“And she believed that?” Smolleck asked.
“Janis is terrified of the woman. She told us Gertrude wouldn’t give a second thought to blowing up the building, even with her own daughter in it.”
An invisible hand squeezed Aubrey’s gut. What if this madwoman decided she’d gotten what she wanted and blew up the building with Mama and Ethan in it?
Smolleck met Aubrey’s eyes. He gave her a little nod, letting her know he understood what was at stake. He was doing what he could. Hold it together, he told her without words.
He turned to the detective. “I need to speak with Hendrix myself.”
“I’m not sure you’ll get much more from her right now,” Gonzalez said. “She talked up a storm, then went silent, almost catatonic.”
“Did she tell you how she got Ethan to leave the carnival with her?” Smolleck asked.
Gonzalez nodded. “She told us she put on the gray wig she’d worn when she babysat for him in LA and waited for him to be alone. When she saw Ethan come out of the fun house, she told him both his grandparents were in the parking lot. He trusted her because she’d babysat for him. Once behind the carnival and out of sight, she injected him with Versed.”
“My God,” Aubrey said. “He’s being drugged?”
Smolleck frowned. “Then how could Ethan have hidden from her at the time-share?”
“Janis told us since bringing him to the apartment, she used only small doses of Valium,” Gonzalez said. “Then she didn’t give him anything after the first day because Ethan was very cooperative. He’s been eating well and seemed happy enough watching movies in the bedroom.”
Eating well. Watching movies. But that didn’t free Aubrey of guilt. Ethan had been two floors above her yesterday. How could she have not known? She went over in her mind if there had been any indication, any hint, of his presence. But she was certain not even her father had realized how near Ethan had been to them.
“Why did Janis do it?” Aubrey asked. “What kind of person agrees to kidnap a little boy and keep him captive?”
“I wish I had an answer for you,” Gonzalez said.
The detective had no other useful information about Janis or Ethan. Smolleck asked her to call him when Janis was communicative again. He wanted to interview Star’s daughter himself.
After Gonzalez left, Smolleck took another call. Aubrey absorbed what the detective had told them and tried to focus on the positives. Ethan was alive. He had been alert enough to sneak out of the bedroom and hide. But where was he?
Then the negatives crept into her head. Janis was terrified of her own mother and believed Star would have been willing to sacrifice her. That meant if they didn’t find some way to persuade Star to walk away from this, Aubrey’s mother and nephew were doomed.
She glanced over at Smolleck, who was scribbling down notes, his cell phone held to his ear by his shoulder. He got off the phone, and she tried to read the tense expression on his face.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what we have on Gertrude’s brother.”
Wings fluttered in Aubrey’s abdomen. They had found something.
“Willis Morgenstern was reported killed in action in June 1968 at the age of nineteen.”
Aubrey thought about the timing. Gertrude would have been seventeen when her brother died, an impressionable age. Which explained the dog tag Gertrude never took off.
“Shortly after his death, a soldier who had served with Willis contacted the Morgensterns and told them Willis had been killed by friendly fire. The Morgensterns filed a complaint and demanded an investigation.” Smolleck paused. “The government refused to investigate and denied the soldier’s story.”
Aubrey was beginning to understand the woman’s psyche. “Gertrude would have been incensed about the government sending her brother off to fight, getting him killed in friendly fire, then denying its role.”
Smolleck tensed. She remembered he had been a marine.
She continued. “It might explain why she became a revolutionary and believed violence was the answer.”
“Possibly,” Smolleck said. “But how can we use this information now?”
“By telling her the government made a mistake. By apologizing and reassuring her the case will be reopened so she can finally get justice for her brother.”
“We can’t make those promises,” Smolleck said.
“Jesus,” Aubrey said. “So lie. Stretch the truth. My mother’s and nephew’s lives are at stake.”
Smolleck looked at McDonough. “What do you think?”
“I’ll try anything,” McDonough said. “The problem is, Star’s not picking up when I call, and she hasn’t been checking her messages.” He glanced at his watch. “I can call her again.”
“Well, let’s see if she answers this time,” Smolleck said.
McDonough hit the “Call” button. Aubrey could hear it ring, just like the last few times, then go to voice mail. “This is Star Matin. Please leave a message.”
“Please call back, Ms. Matin,” McDonough said. “We want to talk to you about your brother, Willis.” He hung up and looked at Smolleck, his expression defeated. “She has Diana. I think she’s finished with us.”
Aubrey’s gut cramped. She couldn’t accept this was the end. That Gertrude would have her confrontation with Mama, then go out with a final blast, taking Ethan with them.
“There’s something else we can try,” Aubrey said.
Smolleck and McDonough both turned to her.
“Let me call her from my cell phone.”
“Why would she take a call from you?” Smolleck asked.
“Because I’m Di Hartfeld’s daughter. Because Gertrude is obsessed with everyone in my mother’s life, and she’ll be curious to hear why I’m calling.”
“And if she takes your call?” Smolleck asked.
“I’ll talk to her about her brother.”
Smolleck shook his head. “You’re not a qualified hostage negotiator.”
“But I won’t be negotiating,” Aubrey said. “And I’ve taken dozens of behavioral-psychology and related courses. I can do this.”
McDonough rubbed his bald scalp.
“Let me try,” she said. “We have nothing else.”
Smolleck nodded.
“Give me your phone,” McDonough said. He took it from her, connected it to a machine, then put a pair of headphones over Aubrey’s ears.
She could hear ringing. Three rings. Four. Five.
“Hullo?” said a coarse voice. Gertrude, not Star.
“This is Aubrey.”
“Yeah. Your mother said she recognized your number.”
“Is my mother okay?”
“Sure. She’s fine.”
“Good,” Aubrey said. “I want to talk to you about something I believe is important to you.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Your brother, Willis.”
It seemed to Aubrey that Gertrude’s breathing had gotten heavier.
Don’t hang up. Please, don’t hang up.
“The government did your family a huge disservice,” Aubrey said.
“They killed my brother.”
“Yes, I know,” Aubrey said. “I understand your anger.”
“Do you?”
Wrong approach. “You’re right,” Aubrey said. “I can’t understand how you feel, but I understand why you would be angry.”
She heard what sounded like a sigh. “We were so normal,” Gertrude said. “So wonderfully ordinary. My brother played football. I was a cheerleader. My parents went to all our games.”
Not so different from how Aubrey’s family had once been. A family in a snow globe. And then without warning, everything had changed.
“And then they took him,” Gertrude said. “He had just turned eighteen. We were a trusting family. My parents didn’t play games like a lot of people who got their kids doctor’s excuse letters or had them join the National Guard. When Willis was called up, he went proudly. And we let him go.”
Aubrey waited for her to continue.
“When they came to our door to tell us he’d been killed in action, my parents were heartbroken.” Gertrude swallowed. “I thought I’d never recover. I had loved my brother more than anything.” Her voice became a whisper. “I worshipped him.”
Aubrey thought about the young, pretty girl in the photo, fingering her dead brother’s dog tag.
“The letter came a few weeks later from a buddy of his saying Willis’s death had been an awful accident. Their squad leader had mistakenly led them into a free-fire zone, and Willis was shot by one of our own soldiers. We contacted our congressman and asked him to look into it, but the government stuck to its story. They refused to apologize.”
“They were wrong,” Aubrey said.
“My parents never got over it,” Gertrude said. “Dad died from a heart attack, and Mom ended up in a mental hospital.” She didn’t speak for a few seconds. “The government destroyed my family.”