He pushed some more. “If Rose wasn’t a bad girl, then Bobby can’t be taking girls to punish her, right?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s right.” She looked confused, though, trying to work through his words.
“Then I need to know what happened. If you explain it to me, I’ll understand. Who is Rose?”
She looked relieved at Max’s logic. She was hopelessly lost in her devotion to her brother. “Rose was your sister.”
Luckily, she walked back into the living room and didn’t see the shock on his face. “My sister,” he repeated as he followed her.
“She was four years older than you.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“She died when you were two.”
He tried to act calm and rational, stirring sugar into his tea even though he didn’t like sugar or tea. “What was she like?”
Odette shook her head, a sad look on her face. “Bobby wanted Marie all to himself.”
Marie. Max swallowed hard. “My mother.” The woman he didn’t remember.
“He was like that with everyone in his life, possessive. He’ll do anything for you if he cares about you. Everything within his power,” she added, a shadow crossing her face. “Marie wanted a baby, and he gave her one. But Rose was…well, I’d call her spirited. Headstrong.” She smiled, shaking her head. “So different from me at that age. Bobby couldn’t see her charm, though. All he could see was that she wouldn’t listen to him. A hell child, he called her. Bobby tried to be a good father, he did. He tried to be patient, but he always had trouble with that particular virtue. As you know,” she said, giving him a sympathetic look. “Rose tried his patience so. When they came to visit, I could see her push him to the edge. It was like she was trying to prove something.”
Something occurred to Max. “She got gum in her hair, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but…how did you know?”
“And she wet her pants sometimes?”
“Even at six. And she wouldn’t bathe. She hated taking baths, and she was always dirty.”
“And Bobby cut her once, like this.” He demonstrated, drawing his finger across his chest.
She looked away. “She’d escaped the house again. He had to teach her a lesson. He couldn’t just have her running all over the neighborhood. There had to be rules.”
“You said she died. What happened?”
“There was an accident. She drowned in the bathtub.” She covered her mouth. “No, not the bathtub. It was in the children’s pool in the backyard. That’s right, the pool. She’d gone out without telling anyone and drowned. It was an accident, just an accident.”
She shook her head. “Marie never recovered from her daughter’s death. Oh, she loved you, Max, she did, but she couldn’t muster the energy to live anymore. They’d moved in here after Rose’s death. They needed to get away from the bad memories. But I could see Marie wilting more and more every day.”
“So she killed herself.” He’d never known why or how. No one would talk about it. “How did she do it?”
“She walked to the bridge and just leaped right off.” She scratched her head. “Maxie, you were too young to remember some of that stuff you mentioned: the gum or the cut. How did you know?”
He picked up Phaedra’s picture again. “Because that’s what the man who took this girl is doing. It’s what he did to Olivia. He took them both five days before Christmas. He put gum in their hair and cut it out. He wouldn’t let them go to the bathroom and punished them when they wet themselves. He gave them an opportunity to escape the cage he put them in and then cut them when they tried.” He made the cut with his finger again, watching her face. “He calls them Rose because he makes them into Rose.”
The pieces were coming together. Every word pounded into his chest. Rose was a dirty child, didn’t like to take baths. She drowned. He drowned her in a bathtub in a fit of temper. The bathtub found in the wreckage of the truck. The dripping sound Olivia kept hearing when she connected to Phaedra. The implications gave him the chills.
Odette was stirring her tea furiously. He stilled her hand. “That’s what they told the police, right, that she drowned in the pool? They didn’t want anyone thinking he’d drowned her.” And with Bobby being a cop, the police wouldn’t want to believe the worst. He’d still been a cop then, but he’d quit soon after Rose’s death.
“No, it was an accident,” she said quickly and took another sip of her tea. Her hands were shaking.
“And he drowns them on Christmas. That’s the game he’s going to play tomorrow. Tell her to clean up, not give her the chance to do so, then give her a bath.”
She poured more tea, but sloshed the liquid on the saucer and tabletop. “No.”
“Yes.” He lifted Phaedra’s picture. “He’s chopped her hair off, made her drink water and wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom, then punished her when she wet herself. Today he cut her …and tomorrow night he’s going to drown her.”
“He loved Marie,” she said, not looking at the picture. “He loved her so awfully much. She was his redemption. His life. He couldn’t save me, but he saved her. He took her out of that terrible home she’d been living in and married her. Took care of her.”
“And killed their daughter.”
“No! It was an accident!”
This time he shoved the picture into her face. “This little girl is going to die if you don’t tell me where Bobby is. You’ll be liable for her death. Do you understand me? Legally and morally, you’ll be responsible. I’ll find a way to prove my father did this, and you’ll be charged with accessory to murder. Are you really willing to let this girl die because of some misguided sense of loyalty? What about the next girl? And the next? How many girls are you willing to let die in the name of loyalty?”
She curled up on the couch and stared beyond him. “Everyone knows I’m crazy, Maxie. Maybe I made it all up. Maybe I just think Bobby is still alive.” And in a softer voice, “Maybe I am crazy.”
He didn’t know what to do. He could bring her in for questioning, but he’d have to explain why. Who knows what Odette would say under those circumstances? With everyone watching Max on this case, they’d more likely think he was the crazy one.
He glanced at his watch. Phaedra was an hour and a half closer to dying.
CHAPTER 20
Odette waited until she heard Maxie pull out of the long drive. She looked out the window just to be sure. The office door was open. He’d been in there. She hoped he hadn’t found the phone bills. No, that’s right, she burned them as soon as she received them.
They’d been so careful. All to protect her dear, baby brother.
Her hands were still shaking when she dialed the cell phone he’d bought her. He had another one, and they were both in her name. She sagged against the counter when he answered.
“Bobby,” she whispered in a broken voice.
“What’s wrong?”
Just his voice, strong and worried and protective, shot strength into her. “Maxie was here. He just left, but he walked around the farm. He was looking for you, Bobby.”
“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”
“He already knew about Rose. I told him she was his sister, that she drowned accidentally in the pool.” She hesitated. “That girl Maxie rescued was with him. She stayed out in the car. She and a dog were with him when he was looking. He said you took another girl, and that you’re calling her Rose. You don’t have a girl, do you? That was an awful mistake before. And now he just thinks it’s you because of last time, right?”
“Right. You’re sure you didn’t give anything away?”
“I’d never give you up. Then you’d go away like last time. But you’d never come back,” she said in a whisper.
“It’ll be all right. I’ll never leave you again, Odette. As long as you don’t tell him who I am, I’ll always be here.”
“I won’t tell him, not ever. When will you be coming to visit? Please come on Christmas.”
“I will, but it’ll be late. Very late. You won’t panic, will you?”
“No, I’ll be calm, like you told me.”
“Good girl. Let me deal with Max.”
“You won’t hurt him, will you? He didn’t disobey you by coming here and asking about you, because you never told him not to.”
“It’s the woman I’ll punish. I’ll see you soon.”
He had enjoyed toying with Olivia thus far. When he’d first seen her, anger had overcome his need for a plan. He’d simply wanted her dead, or even seriously hurt. Olivia was a lucky lady. But eventually her luck would run out. Until then, he would toy with her a little more. He would pay another visit to her father today.
Max had become fond of Olivia. No doubt, their past created a bond between them. As Max had always been drawn to women who needed protectors, he would be doubly drawn to Olivia. Too bad killing her would hurt Max, too.
That’s why he would be there for Max afterward, like any good father would.
Max felt drained as they drove back to Palomera. One minute passed into the next, another minute that Phaedra sat in some cage waiting for rescue.
Olivia said, “So we know why he’s taking the girls.”
He hadn’t told her about the drowning part. He wasn’t letting himself think about that. “We know he’s recreating Rose, but we don’t know why. I’m going to check in with Sam and see if he’s found out anything.”
“Nothing yet.” Sam said a minute later, sounding as weary as Max. “The files are being pulled. Can you tell me why I’m looking in dirty restaurant kitchens?”
Dirty kitchens. “How many closed restaurants did you find?”
“Five. I’m checking on the last one now, past the Interstate exit.”
“Are they all dirty?” Olivia had said the kitchen was clean.
“Sure. You think they’re going to clean it spic and span on their way out of business?”
“Hell. What about restaurants that haven’t opened yet?”
“No way could someone stash a kid in a restaurant that’s about to open. Too much activity.”
Max had already figured that out as soon as the words left his mouth. “She’s in a kitchen, Sam. A large, clean kitchen. What about an Elks Club? Any civic club that has a kitchen? Country club?”
“We’re in season. Those places stay busy. How do you know she’s in a kitchen? This has something to do with Olivia, doesn’t it? This is another one of her wacky leads.”
“Let’s meet at Ambrosia for breakfast at five-thirty tomorrow. I’ll bring some maps. And I’ll tell you everything. Meanwhile, start thinking about kitchens. It’s here, and it’s got to be in town, or at least close to it. He’s got to have easy access to it.”
“Do you still want me to check out this place?”
“Yeah, just in case it’s the one time someone left it clean.”
“What about you? You were going to find the guy who took her.”
He needed something a little more concrete than the similarity of abduction dates to convince Sam that his “dead” father was the man they were looking for. “I’m working on it. But I will find him. I have to. I’ll see you at Ambrosia.”
“You do realize that’s Christmas morning, don’t you?”
He was going to kill her on Christmas, but that wasn’t what Sam meant. He meant Christmas cheer, joy, watching your kid open presents, watching her face light up because “Santa” managed to find the exact toy she wanted.
“Sorry, man. Call me after Petey opens his presents.” He hung up.
Christmas had ceased to mean much since Ashley’s death. He had to admit he missed the celebration, the presents…everything.
“Nothing?” Olivia looked as disappointed as he felt.
“Something he said made sense, though. If a restaurant were going out of business, they wouldn’t bother leaving the place clean. It’s got to be something else then.”
“Someplace with a kitchen.”
They sat in silence, each lost in their own dark thoughts. Stasia was curled up on the seat between them, her head on Olivia’s lap.
Olivia stroked her head. “I’m going to try to paint the room she’s in again. Maybe I can capture something I can’t describe. I need to paint. I need to do something.”
He really shouldn’t watch her paint, not when he was feeling tired and achy in his soul.
Why did he feel as though this case was about to shatter him into a thousand pieces? He was tired and frustrated, that’s all. And headed to a place he shouldn’t be going. At the moment, he just didn’t care.
Max and Olivia stopped by his place so he could collect some clothes and other necessary items. It seemed strange having her in his dreary home. Even stranger when she wanted to “see” his statues, when she’d run her fingers over the Man Who Laughs and said, “It’s beautiful.” She traced his frozen grin, her Mona Lisa smile in place. What was she thinking?
He didn’t want to speculate. “We should go.”
When they stepped onto his front porch, he paused, remembering Olivia’s suggestion that Bobby might live nearby. Max didn’t even know who his neighbors were. When they’d moved in, he’d been too busy working to make friends with the neighbors. Diana had gotten to know a few of the mothers, but those women had drifted away after the initial rush of casseroles and condolences. Max had been more than happy to let them go.
Now he scanned the nearby homes on his street, trying to picture who lived there. “I can’t think of any men who would fit the description and situation.”
“He may not live alone. He could be married and still carry out his plans if he had a lot of freedom.”
“Good thinking.” Freedom. Cops had lots of freedom. He took Olivia’s hand. “Let’s get back to your place.”
When they returned to her building, she paused by the door of the apartment across the way from hers.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’ve been trying to meet whoever bought this place. According to Ronald Ford, some corporation owns it. Someone’s been staying there, but they’ve been very shy.” She shook her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Come on, I’ll show you how the futon works.”
After she set him up with sheets and pillows, he left her to her painting while he took a hot shower.
“Your phone rang,” she told him when he rejoined her.
He checked it and returned the call. When he hung up, he said, “Still no sign of Terry Carlton yet. It’s like he vanished.”
“God, what could he be thinking, doing what he did and then taking off like that?”
“I hope we’ll get to ask him that soon.”
She shook her head, as though trying to shake the thought of it loose. “What do you think?” She gestured to the wet canvas. “Is it any help? The colors aren’t exact; I’m using primary colors.”
She’d been painting maniacally since they’d returned. She was wearing an oversized denim shirt that had seen many painting sessions and white leggings. She’d failed to tie back her hair, and strands of it were green. She had a similar streak on her cheek where she’d pushed her hair back from her face.
He realized he was looking at her instead of the painting and shifted his gaze. It was vaguely a room, and because he knew the square object in the corner was supposed to be a sink, it sort of looked like a sink.
“It’s too abstract to tell me much.”
Her shoulders drooped. “I’ve never been good at details. Maybe I should have chosen something more sensible than painting to get into. Like fencing.” She tilted her head and gave him her Mona Lisa smile. “Joking.”
Livvy.
Was he so drawn to her because of that rescue? Was that the only reason he was struggling to keep from touching her now? He stuffed his hands in his pockets to stifle the temptation. “I know.”
She reached for her mug. “I hope I can help tomorrow. With the hypnotist, I mean.”
He did touch her then, resting the tips of his finge
rs against her forehead, grazing his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. We may not discover anything new. Don’t blame yourself if we don’t.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to protect me again, aren’t you?”
He dropped his hand. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Was he as bad as Terry, wanting to protect her from the world?
“Don’t worry about me. You already did your saving, as far as I’m concerned. And I’m grateful for that, more than I could ever express. Seems to me you have yourself to worry about most. Dealing with the deaths of your daughter and your wife,” she added when he didn’t respond.
“I have dealt with them.”
“By pushing them to the back of your mind? You don’t just ‘get over’ something like that. I believe that’s how you put it. I know, after months of counseling after my kidnapping.”
“I don’t need counseling.” He stared at her painting. “I’ve moved on.”
She turned around to face him. “Oh, God, you blame yourself for their deaths, don’t you? Because you found that missing boy, and the guy retaliated. That would be so like you.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
She tilted her head. “I know enough.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t get involved because I don’t want anyone to hurt someone I care about as a way of hurting me. A safety precaution, simple as that.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Are you still in love with her?”
His gaze was on her fingers. “Who?”
“Your wife.”
Even though she couldn’t see him, he still looked away when he answered. “We hadn’t loved each other in years. We made a deal to stay together for Ashley.” Then he realized he’d have to tell her everything. “She was an alcoholic. I knew that when I met her, but she was trying to go straight. I helped her, we fell in love and got married. I thought everything was okay until I found out she was drinking during her pregnancy. I was working hard, trying to prove myself. Wasn’t home enough. When I discovered the hidden bottles…it was too late. The damage was done. Ashley was born with fetal alcohol syndrome.”
Blindsight [Now You See Me] (Romantic Suspense) Page 25