“Very ill.”
“Should we go back and tell her? Maybe she should go to the doctor….”
“She knows, Ethan.”
He reminded himself that Aislinn could be wrong. He still wasn’t ready to accept everything she said as fact. But still, he was glad now that he’d spent that extra twenty minutes with Odessa.
“Of course I remember Carmen. She was the best friend I ever had.”
Natalie Mitchell’s pale blue eyes filled with tears as she spoke, and she dabbed at them with the back of one weathered hand. A hard-lived sixty, Natalie had once been a redhead, though her hair was mostly gray now. She had probably never been pretty, but the face they saw now was the victim of too much sun and too many frowns.
They’d found Natalie at her home, after being told by one of her coworkers that she wasn’t working that day. The coworker had given them her last name, and Ethan had found her address in a local telephone book. More trusting than she should have been, she had let them into her rented duplex when they’d told her that they were there to ask about Carmen.
“Who did you say you are?”
“Ethan Brannon,” he told her. “My brother was with Carmen the day she…died.”
If Natalie noticed the slight hesitation, she didn’t react. Aislinn, however, had noted it.
Natalie swiped at her eyes again. “You were the oldest,” she murmured. “I remember you. I used to come over to your house to visit Carmen sometimes. Don’t you remember?”
Sitting in one of two undersize armchairs in the shabby living room while Aislinn sat in the other and Natalie on the couch, Ethan shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“Well, you were little. And, come to think of it, you were already in school. Joel was in kindergarten. I’d come over while the baby was asleep and me and Carmen would watch TV and sometimes play cards.”
Aislinn studied the woman, picking up no trace of deception in her. Sadness, yes. Regrets, definitely. But there seemed to be no doubt that Natalie believed her friend had died when everyone else thought she did.
“I’m simply trying to understand exactly what happened that day,” Ethan explained to her.
Natalie sighed heavily. “If you knew how many times I’ve asked myself that same question…”
“Can you tell me about Carmen? I don’t remember her very well. I remember that she was quiet.”
“She was a little quiet around people she didn’t know very well,” Natalie agreed. “But once you got to know her, she was a lot of fun. We used to laugh over those card games….” She sighed again as the words trailed off.
“Did she talk to you much about her past?”
“Neither one of us wanted to talk much about our pasts,” Natalie muttered. “Mine hadn’t been so great, and she told me hers wasn’t, either.”
“Did she say where she grew up? I’ve heard Florida—or maybe Mississippi.”
Natalie frowned and slowly shook her head. “She just said she moved around a lot when she was growing up. She didn’t claim any particular state that I recall.”
“What about boyfriends? Did she date? Do you remember a guy named Mark?”
“I don’t remember anyone named Mark. Carmen didn’t date much. She didn’t meet many men working at the day-care center where I met her. Nor sitting there with you kids. After work, she tended to go straight home and watch a lot of TV. I didn’t date much, either,” she added. “Not for lack of wanting to. I just rarely met anyone who was interested in going out with me.”
Aislinn sensed that there was something more. “So she wasn’t seeing anyone before she disappeared?”
Natalie hesitated, then said reluctantly, “Maybe someone in the weeks before. There were several nights when I asked her if she wanted to do something and she told me she had other plans. It hurt my feelings that she wouldn’t tell me more. Up until then, I thought we told each other everything.”
Someone had picked Carmen up on that highway that afternoon, Aislinn mused. Someone who had agreed ahead of time to meet her there and help her spirit away the child in her care. She didn’t know who it had been, whether man or woman, but it hadn’t been Natalie.
“You’ve been very generous with your time,” Ethan said, standing, which signaled Aislinn to rise to her feet, as well. “Just one more question, if I may, and I’m afraid it’s going to sound strange.”
Rising, Natalie looked at him questioningly. “What is it?”
“Do you think there’s any possibility that Carmen didn’t die that day? That she chose to simply disappear instead, taking my brother with her?”
Aislinn was startled to hear him so bluntly sum up her theory of what had happened that day. This was the first time he had even suggested to anyone else that there was a possibility Carmen had survived.
Natalie had started shaking her head before Ethan even finished asking the question. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but it’s crazy,” she said flatly. “Carmen was happy here. There was no reason at all for her to do anything like that.”
Holding up a hand in a conciliatory gesture, Ethan spoke soothingly. “I didn’t say it did happen that way. I was just asking. You can probably understand that I’ve always looked for reasons to hope that my brother would be returned to the family someday, and since the bodies were never found…”
Calming a little, Natalie nodded. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to give up hope. I felt the same way for a long time after Carmen disappeared. I missed her so much, you see. She was the only real friend I had back then. And it bothered me to know she would never have a proper burial, never have a place where I could take flowers every so often and, you know, sort of talk to her.
“So every weekend for the next year I’d go out and drive along the river, as far down as I could imagine the flood carrying her. Sometimes I’d get out and walk the banks, looking for something, anything, that would give me a clue of what happened to her. I thought the authorities gave up too soon, you see. I wanted them to keep looking, even after they called off the search. And then one day I found proof that Carmen had been washed downstream, several miles from where the car went over the side.”
Aislinn and Ethan exchanged a startled look.
“You found proof?” Ethan asked.
Natalie nodded. “Wait here.”
She disappeared into the back of her home, then rejoined them carrying an old-looking, square cardboard box. She set the box on the table, lifted the lid and carefully drew out a tattered, stained strip of once-yellow weatherized fabric.
“This was a piece of the coat she was wearing that day,” she murmured, stroking it gently with one hand. “I found it wedged under a rock along the riverbank. There was a lot of other debris from the flood in that area, too, at a place where the river is really wide and deep. I figured the stuff was deposited there as the water receded and that Carmen’s body was probably trapped under more rubble somewhere underwater. I go there now every year on the anniversary of her death and throw flowers in the water. It makes me feel like she has a burial place after all.”
Ethan was obviously shaken by the revelation, but his voice was steady when he asked, “How do you know this was a piece of her coat? It’s just a scrap of cloth.”
Natalie turned the fabric to reveal the other side. “Her initials are embroidered on it. See? C.N. She did this herself one day while I was visiting her. This was her coat, Ethan. I guess it was ripped off her in the flood, then shredded by debris. It’s one of the few things I have left of her.”
“Do you know what became of her belongings?” Aislinn asked, one of the first questions she had asked of the woman.
“There weren’t that many. Since she didn’t have family, the things she’d left at her apartment were sold to pay off her bills. She didn’t have a life insurance policy, nor a will. Whatever was left over was donated to charity, I believe.”
“Do you mind if I touch that fabric?”
Though she looked surprised, Natalie sh
rugged. “I suppose not.”
Aislinn sensed Ethan watching her closely as she placed her hand on the torn cloth. A moment later she dropped her hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I guess.” Natalie folded the fabric back into the box. “Is there anything else you want to know?”
Shaking his head, Ethan put a hand on Aislinn’s arm and nudged her toward the door. “That’s all, thanks.”
She saw them out with polite bemusement.
Sitting across a restaurant table from Ethan, Aislinn watched him pick at his plate of spaghetti without much evidence of either appetite or pleasure. His thoughts were obviously far away.
It was early for dinner, but he hadn’t seemed to know what else to suggest when they’d left Natalie’s place. He’d said he was hungry, but the way he acted now proved that hadn’t been true. She knew he’d needed time to think about what they had learned today and something to occupy his hands while he did so.
Having ordered a chef’s salad for herself, she poked her fork into a plump cherry tomato and asked, “What’s our next step?”
He looked up from his plate, fully meeting her eyes for the first time since they’d left Natalie. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll head back to Danston in the morning. I have work that needs to be done there, and I’m pretty sure I’d be wasting my time staying here any longer.”
“What about the search for your brother?”
He set down his fork, giving up all pretense of eating. “Isn’t it obvious that we’ve reached a dead end? We’ve talked to everyone we can find who even remembers Carmen from thirty years ago. There isn’t a shred of evidence that she didn’t go over the side of that road. We don’t know where she lived before she came here, don’t even know for certain that Carmen Nichols was her real name. Though I can’t imagine why she’d have lied about that.”
“You’re starting to doubt me again, aren’t you?”
“I have always doubted you,” he reminded her. “Not your motives, necessarily. You seem to believe the things you say. But as for their accuracy—”
“You think I’m making it all up.”
“I didn’t say that, either. Don’t put words in my mouth. I’d be a fool to deny that you have some special gifts. An ability to sense some things that most people can’t. I don’t think you’re crazy or unnatural or any of the things your grandfather obsessed about. Maybe it’s like you’ve always said, just heightened intuition or a real talent for guessing things. But this time I think maybe you let yourself get carried away.”
“Carried away,” she repeated, pushing her salad bowl aside. “You’re suggesting that I’ve concocted this whole tale about Carmen faking her death and disappearing with Kyle.”
“Not intentionally,” he assured her.
“That’s supposed to appease me?”
“I’m not trying to appease you,” he said crossly. “I’m just trying to be honest.”
“And you honestly think I’m wrong about what happened to Carmen and Kyle.”
He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “I have to repeat, there’s no evidence at all that they’re still alive. We have a witness who saw her get in her car with Kyle and who saw her wearing the yellow coat that Natalie found months later, far downriver from where the car went in. Though we never found her, there was a witness who called the police and reported the car going over. There were certainly some inconsistencies with the stories Carmen told about her background, but it’s a big leap from a few fibs to kidnapping.”
“Kyle is alive, Ethan,” she said wearily, knowing she had already lost.
“Then tell me where he is.”
“I wish I could.”
“You touched Carmen’s coat. Did you get anything from it about what really happened that day? Where she is now if not in the river?”
“No. I didn’t get anything. I didn’t expect to, really, but I thought it was worth a try.”
“So there’s nothing more we can do, is there? Unless you get some sort of vision that leads straight to Kyle, it looks like you and I have done all we can.”
But he didn’t expect that to happen, she thought sadly. Because he had closed his mind to the possibility that she might be right.
As they drove in silence back to the motel, she thought about his turnaround. She knew he had been on the verge of believing. That she had almost convinced him she could be trusted.
But then they had made the mistake of getting too close—and in his self-protective retreat, Ethan had looked for any excuse he could find to pull away. For some reason, that scrap of yellow cloth had provided all the proof he needed to put an end to this uncomfortable journey.
He walked her to her door but made no move to enter. “I’m going to make arrangements for a flight home in the morning. I assume you’ll want to do the same.”
She nodded, hearing defeat in her voice when she said, “Fine.”
“I’m planning to spend the evening in my room, catching up on some computer work.”
“Yes, I’ll do the same.”
“Let me know what time you need to be at the airport. We’ll want to get an early start.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I have a time.”
“Good.” He hesitated a moment longer. “You probably shouldn’t swim after the pool closes tonight. It really isn’t safe for you to be out alone like that.”
“I won’t be swimming tonight.”
He nodded and turned away. “Good night, Aislinn,” he said without looking back at her.
“Goodbye, Ethan,” she whispered as she closed herself into her room.
Aislinn’s plane was scheduled to leave before Ethan’s, and their gates were at opposite ends of the airport. “There’s no need for you to stay here with me,” she told him after he walked her to hers. “I have a book in my bag.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s only going to be an hour, and I’ve been trying to find time to finish this book for weeks.”
He looked almost relieved, which didn’t do a lot for her ego. “I guess I’ll leave you to your reading then.”
“All right.” She held out her hand. “Have a safe flight, Ethan.”
He looked at her hand a moment before taking it. And then he spoke impulsively. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I guess there was a part of me that really wanted to believe you.”
She drew her hand from his. “And another part of you that never wanted to even try.”
“You can’t say I didn’t give it a shot,” he said, sounding defensive. “I came here with you, didn’t I? I spent the whole day yesterday talking to strangers, pretty much making a fool of myself.”
“I didn’t force you to do that. It was always up to you whether you wanted to act on the information I gave you.”
“And I acted. But you still seem to be disappointed that I’m ending the search. What else would you have me do, Aislinn?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe try to find employment records or tax records or something to trace Carmen’s background, which might give us a clue where she went.”
“That would be a major undertaking, even if we could find anything useful. I don’t have that kind of time to spend on what would probably turn out to be a futile exercise. You don’t, either. You have a business to run. Orders to fill.”
“I’m aware of my responsibilities to my clients,” she said coolly.
“So go back to them. I appreciate your effort to help my family, but in the long run, maybe it’s better this way.”
“Better?”
“I don’t believe Kyle’s out there, okay? But if he is, maybe he’s perfectly happy. Maybe he’s got a great life and we’d just be messing it up by tracking him down. Maybe he wouldn’t want a new family. For that matter, my family’s doing pretty well right now. Mom and Dad are healthy and content, Joel’s a blissful newlywed, I’m satisfied with my life. Why risk upsetting everyone again?”
She was stunned by his seemingly careless w
ords. “Are you saying that if I could give you definitive information on how to find Kyle, you would turn your back on him? Because it would be easier to pretend none of this ever happened?”
They stood in a relatively private spot in the busy terminal in a back corner of the waiting area. Still, Aislinn was aware of a few curious looks as passing strangers sensed the tension between them. She didn’t care.
“You really think I don’t know why you’ve been such a loner the past few years, Ethan?” she continued in a low voice. “Why you avoid people except in the line of business? Why you live in your isolated river cabin where no one but family ever visits you?”
“You don’t know me at all,” he growled. “No matter what you think you might sense about me.”
“I know you’ve been hurt. Disappointed. Betrayed. You’ve lost people you loved, you’ve loved people you shouldn’t have. And now you protect yourself. Too well, maybe.”
He moved a step backward. “You’re really reaching now.”
“Am I? Because I think you’re afraid, Ethan. I think you’re afraid to start believing Kyle might still be out there. Because you think it would hurt too much if you found out later that you were wrong.”
“I don’t—”
But she didn’t give him a chance to finish the denial. “It all comes down to me, doesn’t it? Whether you can trust me. And trust is something you don’t give anyone anymore.
“You’re afraid,” she said again. “Afraid that if you did start to trust me, you could end up disillusioned if it turns out that I really have been playing you for a fool. Afraid that I see too much when I look at you, more than you let most people see. Afraid of getting your heart broken again. That’s why you don’t trust me to get near it.”
His brows were drawn downward into a fierce frown. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you were in love with Heather. And that the night she married your brother, you told yourself you would never open your heart like that again. And you haven’t. Whenever anyone gets too close, you run. Just like you’re running now.”
The words had left her before she could stop them. Maybe because she knew this was her one last chance to convince him that she understood his fears. And that he should believe what she told him.
The Bridesmaid's Gifts Page 16