That didn’t matter. What was he going to do? Bust down the door? Drag Kimmy back without any explanation of how she got those bruises all over her?
Like hell.
She rounded the car and opened Kimmy’s door, and squeezed her eyes heavenward at the thunderclouds overhead. Cleveland rain. That’s all she needed now.
“C’mon, babes. There’s only a few steps we gotta get up. Then we’ll get you in some clean clothes, a hot drink, and some food. I think I’ve still got some casserole left I can heat up.”
Kimmy sat rigid in the car, fists clenched, then threw back her head, keening like a frightened child as the first drops fell. Huge and fat, they splattered on the car and popped as they hit Laney’s scalp and cut tiny trails through her hair.
“Come on, sweetie. You’re gonna have to help me here. I can’t carry you.” Laney hunched her shoulders against the worsening weather as she unlatched the seatbelt and tried to turn Kimmy.
“Come on, I’m getting wet here,” she growled, then cursed herself for getting frustrated. What was the point in getting mad at her? That would only make matters worse.
Tentatively, Kimmy slowly twisted towards her, setting one sneakered foot to the ground, then the other as she leaned out and scowled accusingly up into rain. Laney eased her to the edge of the seat, then dropped to circle an arm around Kimmy’s waist. When she felt Kimmy lift, she eased her up, closed the door, then hugged her close as they made her way across to the stairs. By the time they made it to the top step, the heavens had opened and they were both dripping wet.
“Wait just a second while I get the door.” She released Kimmy and raked her dripping hair back from her face while she dug in her back pocket for her house key. As she inserted it in the lock and twisted it open, she turned to find Kimmy with the front of her thin gray sweater pressed to her mouth as she cast a beseeching look out across the street.
“Wendy?” she whimpered.
Laney felt that old familiar ache of failure as she followed her gaze out across the dismal surroundings. “Yeah, I don’t know where Wendy is right now. Let’s get inside out of the rain. Then I’ll call her up and find out what’s going on, okay?” Looping her arm around her sister again, Laney eased her to the doorway.
Just before entering, Kimmy stopped to turn a searching look back out into the street. Laney gave her a little squeeze, urging her on, and Kimmy moved again. She guided Kimmy through the tiny living room to the battered sofa, brushing aside newspapers and the laundry she’d been folding to clear a space for her to sit.
Kimmy gingerly perched on the edge of the seat, running a scornful gaze around the room then back up at Laney. “Wendy?”
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna find her. See if she knows what the hell happened back there.” Laney took out her phone and found the number Wendy had once texted her on.
“Wendy?” Kimmy asked with aching hope.
“Yeah, I heard you. I’m doing my best here, okay?” She hit the key, then turned away, running her frozen fingers through her hair as she waited for the line to open. What came back were the three familiar tones, followed by a message that the number was no longer in service.
“Super,” she said, and hung up.
Kimmy stared up at her, brow furrowed into an accusing look.
“I tried. It’s the wrong number, okay? But I’ll find it.”
No response. Just that same despairing gaze.
“How about I get you something to eat, huh?”
Out of nowhere, Kimmy’s face crumpled, breaths sputtering between pursed lips. Tears welled and burst and raced down her cheeks. Then a tiny, brokenhearted squeak. “Wendy.”
Laney let out a long, weary sigh. “I don’t know where she is. I just tried to call her, didn’t I?”
Devastated, Kimmy folded over with her fists clenched at her mouth, rocking back and forth and keening.
How many times had Laney seen this? One wrong word, one mistaken look, and Kimmy would become inconsolable. She’d rock and wail like she’d been physically wounded. Took ages to calm her down.
Exhausted, confused, Laney tossed a look upward, then took a screwed-up tissue from her back pocket, dropped to a crouch in front of her sister. Using one finger crooked under Kimmy’s chin, she gently lifted her sister’s face towards her and dabbed away the tears.
“Hey, what’s all this about, huh? I thought you’d be happy to come stay with me. Huh?”
Kimmy held her breath, a moment, then pulled her face away, lower lip jutting, chin crumpled. So Laney sighed deeply and took her sister’s hands in hers. Holding them close to her heart, she tipped her head to catch Kimmy’s attention. “So, listen, babes. Are you listening?”
Kimmy took a hiccupping breath but kept her eyes pointedly averted.
“I really need you to look at me, babes. Turn this way.” Laney angled her head a little more and this time caught Kimmy’s attention.
“Listen, I know I’m a crappy sister. I shouldn’t have left you in that place so long. But that’s over now. I’m out, and I’m not going back. From now on, I’m gonna take care of you again. Like I used to. Only better this time,” she conceded a little guiltily. “And this time it’ll work out. I promise you.”
When Kimmy turned a woeful expression on her, Laney squeezed her hands.
“How about we get you out of those wet clothes, into something dry?”
In the absence of a response, Kimmy tugged a clenched fist from Laney’s grasp and held it up, like a kid playing a guessing game.
A little surprised, Laney blinked at her. “What’s this? You got something here?”
She folded her hand around Kimmy’s, cupping it gently as she watched those long fingers unfurl to reveal a tiny scrap of paper crumpled in the center of her palm.
Laney looked up, frowning as she gently took the note.
“What’s this, babe? Is this for me?”
Kimmy held her gaze, the intensity like an electrical charge as Laney teased out the crumpled note, pressing out the creases with her thumbs, flattening it.
The script was immediately recognizable as Wendy’s, those back-sloping letters, the loops and whorls. Laney stared at it for some seconds, shocked at the three words written there. They simply read:
Please find me!
CHAPTER THREE
DAY ONE—8:17 PM—ELIZABETH
Elizabeth had foolishly worn the four-inch heels to match her chiffon dress. She’d been standing in them, moving from foot to foot, watching the guests slowly circulating around the room. Anyone could see they hadn’t come to see her. They were seeking out whoever they could corner to cut deals with, or lobby for support, or negotiate with for the sharpest investment details. All of them fully engaged with each other. None of them was even talking to her. Now her feet were killing her.
Just off to her left, Greg Peterson, the chairman of her father-in-law’s board of directors, had just emerged from a tête-à-tête with a suave-looking young man in a suit. Some tough negotiations going down, if the look on Greg’s face was anything to go by.
Elizabeth tipped her glass as he approached. “Greg, nice seeing you again. Still on the clock, I see.” She nodded, indicating the young man behind him with her glass.
“Say what?” He glanced back, as if he didn’t know. “Oh, that.” Again, that dimpled grin. The guy thought he was God’s gift. “I should thank you for inviting me to a great party, Elizabeth. I have some solid investment opportunities coming up so running into Jim there was a real stroke of luck.” He turned and scanned the room behind him. “Looks like you’ve got anyone who’s anyone here.”
“Yes. And you can thank my PA, Penny Rickman, for that,” Elizabeth told him with a cool smile.
He turned back to her and nodded toward the champagne flute in her hand. “You still on the candy water? Or have you succumbed to a real drink?” He gave her a conspiratorial flick of the eyebrows.
“Still the good old lemon-lime and bitters. Nice and sharp. Just the way
I like it,” she replied, widening the fake smile as she raised her glass. “It brings out the best in me.”
“If you can’t join ’em, fool ’em, huh?” He chuckled at his own joke and touched her briefly on the arm. “Will you excuse me, Elizabeth? I see Charles is free and I need to talk to him about some upcoming business opportunities. Good seeing you.” And without waiting for a reply, he turned and cut his way through the crowd toward Elizabeth’s father-in-law.
“And thanks for all the happy birthday wishes,” she said sourly, toasting his departure.
“You having a great time?” a voice said behind her.
Elizabeth turned to find Penny Rickman, her PA, cutting through the crowds behind her.
Penny beamed around. “Great turnout, huh?” she said and took a swig from her glass.
Elizabeth ran a bilious eye over the crowd. “Yeah, great.”
“You don’t sound like you think it’s great. You sound put out.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah. I would have thought you’d be thrilled someone put on a birthday party like this for you.”
Elizabeth narrowed a stare at her. “Oh yeah, I’m thrilled. And when I find out who that someone was, I’ll kick her thoughtful butt into the middle of next week for arranging my fifty-second birthday party three months early, and calling it my fiftieth.”
Penny’s shoulders dropped. “It isn’t three months early. It’s only a few weeks early. And bear in mind that that thoughtful person had to send out invitations three months ago to get every eligible bachelor worth a damn in this town into the same room at the same time. And who says they have to know your age to the day? So quit pouting and enjoy yourself.”
Elizabeth drained the glass and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter. “And did that thoughtful person think to invite anyone I actually care about? Like Stacy and Bear? Or Nancy? Or Diana? Hm?”
“Oh, c’mon. Stacy and Bear are home with a kid. And what do you want a reporter here for?”
“Diana happens to be a friend. Or didn’t it occur to you to invite friends?”
“Holy crow, next thing you’ll be telling me I should have invited Delaney.”
Elizabeth arched one brow.
Penny’s shoulder’s dropped. “You’re kidding, right? He’s a cop, for cryin’ out loud. You don’t need that kind of guy in your life. You need to spread your social net. Find guys who hang in the same social circles.” When all Penny got back was a narrow-eyed look, she grabbed Elizabeth’s elbow, and wheeled her around. “Come on, let’s get you out there meeting people before you completely ice over.”
Guiding her through close-packed groups of what looked like Cleveland’s social upper echelons, Penny nodded and called out greetings. After a few “Hellos” and “Great party” comments from those they passed, they came to four couples who were clearly in serious discussion.
“Excuse me,” Penny butted in, causing them all to look around.
A gap widened in the circle and Tyrone Chesterton raised his glass to her.
“Happy birthday, Mrs. McClaine.”
Tyrone was the youngest son of a couple who were once Elizabeth’s and her ex-husband’s closest friends. After the Chestertons, Tyrone was probably the last person she’d have invited to her party.
Elizabeth tipped her head and smiled. “Thank you, Tyrone. Nice to see you here.”
“Great party,” he said, grinning. “I just hope I look half as good as you when I get to your age.”
Elizabeth widened a forced smile on him. “And I hope you get to live that long,” she replied before Penny wrenched her away.
“Quit being so snotty. It’s a party, for cryin’ out loud.”
As the circle closed behind them, Elizabeth glanced back at Tyrone. “Who invited that twerp?”
“His folks…who are looking right this way,” Penny replied with fake joviality through clenched teeth, while offering a flutter-wave at the couple now shuffling uncomfortably on the spot and nodding their way.
“Oh, terrific. And just when I didn’t think it could get worse,” Elizabeth groaned.
“Shut up and try and look like you’re having fun. I’ve got tons of guys for you to meet.” Penny tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s elbow to the point where it was almost painful, then dragged her between circles of suits deep in discussion.
“Grant,” Penny cried out, hand extended as they closed in on several older businessmen standing in a loose semi-circle, each of whom was scanning the room like barracudas watching the stray minnows.
But at least Elizabeth knew these people. She turned her head, offering her cheek to Grant Alders, who leaned forward to brush a quick kiss on it.
“Elizabeth, you’re looking lovely,” Grant said with a smile. Grant was in his early sixties, wealthy and intelligent. He had been Elizabeth’s family’s legal counsel for as long as she could remember.
“Lovely to see you again,” Grant’s mousey wife Marjorie piped up from where she clung to him, both arms looped around his like a human bracelet.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Judge Roth, who also leaned in to touch his cheek to hers. A close family friend of the McClaines, he’d presided over many a court case regarding building permissions. The fact that Charles McClaine’s construction conglomeration was more often than not the successful defendant wasn’t lost on her. How anyone could see him as impartial was a mystery. But that was life in the upper reaches of the Cleveland social circles. Everyone knew everyone else. And your case was only ever as good as your legal counsel and your social connections.
Kyle Hendry, Charles’s trusted VP of Finance, also leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Elizabeth. You don’t have a glass.”
“I’ve just finished one. But thank you for noticing,” she replied. “By the way, who’s the guy talking with Greg Peterson?”
Kyle ducked this way and that, searching through the crowds, then smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see.”
“No matter,” she said flatly, then searched her immediate surroundings, looking for a way to extricate herself from the group.
“Phone call for you, Mrs. McClaine.” The voice came from just behind her—one of the concierges.
Grateful for the interruption, she said, “Thank you, I’ll take it out in the lobby. Will you gentlemen excuse me, please?” And she peeled away.
“Damn nerve calling this hour,” Penny grumbled as she cut through the crowd, trailing Elizabeth to the door. “Why can’t they let you at least have your birthday party in peace?”
Elizabeth closed the door to shut out the noise and put the phone to her ear. “Elizabeth McClaine.”
On the other end of the phone was a young woman—she sounded distraught.
“Mrs. McClaine, it’s Caroline Judemire over at Sunny Springs. I don’t know if you remember me—I’m one of the nurse aids. I’m sorry to call you this time of night, but I didn’t know who else to talk to.”
Sunny Springs—of course Elizabeth knew the place. It was an enormous group housing project for the disabled that Aden Falls Corporation had built based on the principle of elder care retirement villages. In theory, the project seemed like a good idea, but those who had fought for community living for the disabled had vehemently opposed it, citing a return to the institutional living for the disabled they’d just gotten rid of. As one of the key critics, Elizabeth had been one of the most vocal.
She glanced back at Penny, who frowned and mouthed, Who is it?
“Yes, Caroline, of course I remember you. What can I do for you?”
“I’m one of the caregivers here…well, for Kimmy Donohue. I think you know Kimmy.”
“Of course I know Kimmy. My foundation supports her temporary accommodation at Sunny Springs.”
“That’s what I heard. Which is why I’m calling you. So, anyway, you already know she’s high-needs and her communication is really limited. Anyway, her sister came to visit today. We’ve had trouble with her before because the l
ast time she came, she took Kimmy out and never came home all weekend. We were worried sick.”
Elizabeth frowned, wondering where this was going. “I can imagine.”
“Who is it?” Penny whispered. Elizabeth gave her a quick head-shake and turned away while Caroline went on.
“Yeah, so Laney—that’s the sister—she came to visit Kimmy unexpectedly tonight, and she took Kimmy. Now we don’t know where they are!”
“She took her off the grounds? Without permission?”
Penny stepped around to hiss up at her. “Who’s taken who? What’s happened?”
“That’s right,” Caroline said. “I’m so worried and I didn’t know what else to do. I know I shouldn’t have called, but I had to do something.”
“What’s David Whitcliff, the residential manager, doing about it?”
“Well, that’s the thing. He told us we’re not to tell anyone or go to the police or anything.”
“Do you know why?”
“I have no idea.”
“Is David there?”
“He’s been out looking for them. The charge nurse just told me he’s on his way back but from what she was saying, he hasn’t got Kimmy with him.”
Elizabeth checked her watch. “When he gets back, tell him I’m coming over and I’ll be in his office in…” She checked her watch again. “Twenty-five minutes.”
Penny’s mouth dropped open. “Whose office? When?”
“Please don’t tell him I told you,” Caroline said. “I’ll get in so much trouble. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving now. I’ll call him from my car.”
“Thank you so much,” she said, and hung up.
“My coat and purse, please,” Elizabeth asked the concierge.
Penny grabbed her arm and tugged her around. “You cannot leave this party. I forbid you to go.”
“Penny, I appreciate everything you’ve done here…”
“Do you? I mean, do you?”
Elizabeth considered it with a tip of the head. “Okay, I appreciate the thought. But sweetie, you’re my PA, not my mother. And I’m sorry, but I’m leaving now. If you want to do something for me, call Katie, tell her I’ll be late home.”
[Elizabeth McClaine 03.0] A Stolen Woman Page 2