Cast into Doubt (23 page)

‘The hospital! I’m not going to the hospital,’ Jeremy protested, drawing back his fingers and hiding them behind his back. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’

‘To see your dad,’ Shelby reminded him.

‘Oh,’ the boy said glumly. And then he brightened. ‘OK.’ He brushed the sand and dust off his clothes and began to run toward the car.

Once Jeremy was out of earshot, Shelby turned to the other boy, who was snickering. ‘And you,’ she said, causing him to look up at her, wide-eyed. ‘Next time, pick on somebody your own size. You hear me?’

Shelby tapped on the door of Rob’s room, and then looked cautiously around the corner. Rob, bandaged up and attached to an IV, was sitting up in bed looking at some program on the television. He looked up at her.

‘I brought someone to see you,’ she said.

Jeremy barreled past her and headed for the bed. Rob’s eyes lit up at the sight of his son. But Shelby practically had to tackle the boy in order to keep him from jumping on to his father’s fractured body.

Father and son managed an awkward hug. Jeremy looked at his father in amazement. ‘You look bad,’ he said admiringly.

‘I feel pretty bad,’ Rob admitted. ‘How are you? How’s school?’

‘Miss Darcie is nice. She said I did the best picture.’

‘Did you bring it?’ Rob asked.

Jeremy looked disappointed. ‘I forgot.’

‘It’s OK. I’ll see it soon.’

‘I talked to your doctor in the hall,’ said Shelby. ‘Looks like they might spring you soon. Although you’re going to need some help.’

Rob nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Shelby, about what I said to you.’

‘What did you say?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Nothing, honey,’ said Shelby firmly. ‘Your dad has had a lot on his mind. But I have some good news for him. Your grandparents are on their way here from Indonesia.’

Jeremy’s eyes were wide. ‘Are they Indians?’

Rob and Shelby both laughed.

‘No, they’re just working there,’ said Rob. ‘Really? Are they headed back?’

Shelby nodded. ‘I think Darcie took care of it, through the church. They were able to locate them.’

‘That’s great,’ said Rob, a catch in his voice. ‘It’ll be so good to see them.’

Shelby cast a glance at Jeremy. ‘I figure they can handle things for a while.’

‘I want to thank you for all you’ve done,’ he said sheepishly.

‘No thanks necessary,’ said Shelby. ‘It’s my grandson.’

‘I know,’ said Rob.

‘You might want to thank Darcie. I’ve really relied on her help.’

‘She has been great, hasn’t she?’ said Rob. ‘A lot of people say they’d do anything for you, but she really means it.’

‘Well, she really cares.’ said Shelby. She watched Rob’s face to see if he understood what she was saying.

‘I can’t help it. I still think of her as a little kid,’ said Rob.

‘She’s no little kid,’ Shelby said. ‘She’s a very capable young woman.’

Rob looked at her in surprise. ‘I’ll be sure to thank her,’ he said.

‘Can I watch cartoons?’ Jeremy asked, crawling up on to a chair beside Rob’s bed. Rob handed him the remote, and Jeremy began to flip through channels with an authoritative ease, finally settling on a cartoon show that immediately engrossed him.

A nurse bustled into the room and took Rob’s blood pressure. Then she handed him a paper cup with pills in it. ‘Down the hatch,’ she said cheerfully.

Rob swallowed the pills.

‘Those are for the pain,’ she said as she headed back toward the door. ‘If you need more, push the call button.’

Rob thanked her and then looked back at Shelby. ‘Look, Shelby. About this business with the detective you hired to look into . . .’ He glanced at his son, curled up in the chair, staring at the television. ‘What happened . . .’

‘I went behind your back,’ said Shelby. ‘I can understand why you felt blindsided.’

Rob shook his head. ‘No. I’ve been thinking about what you said. That I accepted the official version too readily. You may be right about that.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Shelby asked.

Rob’s expression was rueful. ‘Lately I found out that I can be too trusting. I believe what people tell me. I always think people are telling the truth.’

Shelby knew he was thinking of Lianna, and the truth about Molly’s father. She decided not to mention it. ‘I’ve found something out,’ said Shelby quietly. ‘Something you should know about.’

Rob frowned.

‘Do you remember the people on the ship who were with Chloe during the bingo game? The Ridleys? She had a cane. They helped Chloe back to your state room?’

Rob nodded. ‘Yeah. Vaguely.’

‘They’re here. In Philly. I ran into them.’

‘Really? That is strange. Or, maybe not. I imagine there were a number of people from Philly on that cruise.’

‘This guy said that he won the cruise in a radio contest. But that wasn’t true,’ said Shelby.

Rob’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. ‘Hmmm . . .’ he said. ‘How do you know that?’

Shelby did not tell him that their daughter worked for Talia. She wasn’t prepared to say the words aloud. Not yet. ‘It’s a long story. I just know,’ said Shelby.

Rob peered at her. ‘Why would he say that?’

‘I don’t know. But, I plan to find out.’

‘Hi Dad.’

Rob and Shelby looked at the door. Molly stood shyly in the doorway.

‘Hey,’ said Rob, holding his arms wide. ‘There’s my girl.’

Shelby edged away from the side of the bed to let Molly take her place. She glanced out into the hallway and saw Lianna waiting there. Lianna raised a hand in greeting and Shelby nodded.

Molly tousled Jeremy’s hair, and then leaned carefully over the bed to give Rob a kiss. Shelby saw him blink away tears as he squeezed her hand. She was still his daughter, no matter what they both had learned about her actual conception. It was as if the revelation had never occurred. Their relationship appeared to be seamless in the face of that startling news.

Rob’s medication was kicking in, and he was becoming enveloped in the cushiony fog of pain relief. He held his children close, and the three of them seemed to form a complete family. As if no one was missing from the picture.

Stop. That’s so unfair, Shelby chided herself. They were simply relieved not to have lost one another. As for Chloe’s death, they thought it was settled. Shelby was sure that it was not.

TWENTY-FOUR

S
helby stared at the late news without really seeing it. A reporter with all the gravitas of a Barbie doll was recounting how a man’s body had been found floating in the Schuylkill with two bullets in his head, and police were trying to identify the decomposed remains. It was the kind of news story which had become commonplace in the city. Every night another horrible crime, and Shelby watched it without caring. It only mattered, she thought, when it happened to you.

Tonight she could not focus on anything but the thought of Peggy and Bud Ridley. There was no escaping the fact that Talia was a possible connection between Chloe and the Ridleys. But Shelby’s head began to ache when she tried to think of a reason – any reason – that Talia could be involved in this. Obviously she and Talia had their disagreements. If she was honest, she knew that her sister was perpetually angry at her. But angry enough to arrange the murder of Shelby’s child? She doubted it. Was it possible that it
was
a coincidence that the Ridleys were on the same cruise as Chloe and Rob, whether or not Bud was being honest about how he came to be on the boat?

Glen had suggested that perhaps someone had drugged Chloe’s drink on the ship, so that it would be easy to throw her overboard. And without Chloe’s body, Shelby would never be able to prove it, or learn who had done it. But the more she pondered, the more she felt sure that Bud Ridley knew the answer. She had to find out what Bud knew. There had to be a way to trap him. She knew she should go to bed, and try to sleep, but it was hopeless. There was no point in even trying.

Sometime around the break of dawn, Shelby passed out without realizing it, and luckily awoke in time to get Jeremy to preschool. It wasn’t the sun that woke her – the day was gray and rainy. But some inner alarm clock caused her eyes to open in time. She automatically readied Jeremy for his day, and delivered him to the school. Then, she pulled a black baseball cap over her hair, turned up the collar on her jacket and drove back to South Philly. She parked, and waited near the corner of Hector Street. Some druggy-looking street people walked slowly by and stared into her car, but continued on their way. She remembered that Peggy had said that most days, her friend picked her up and took her to the church to volunteer, and that Bud no longer wanted to go. Shelby was lying in wait, hoping it was such a day.

She did not have to wait long. Peggy’s friend, a bustling, gray-haired woman, arrived in her car and went inside. After a short while, she emerged, helping Peggy down the steps. Shelby sat tight until they drove away. Then, she got out of her car and approached the house. She rang the bell and turned her back on the front window.

There was no answer from inside.

Dammit, she thought. Could he have left the house today? Then, she thought she saw the front curtain move slightly. He was there. She had taken precautions for just this eventuality. Her baseball cap and turned-up collar obscured her face.

Shelby rapped again. ‘Open up.’

Still no response.

‘I’m here from the police. We want to talk to you about a Faith Latimer.’

There was a silence from inside the house. Then, after a few moments, the locks were turned, and the front door opened.

Bud looked out, worry written all over his face. Shelby did not give him a chance to close the door. She pushed the door open and wedged her shoulder against it. ‘I thought that would get you,’ she said.

Bud glared at her. ‘Get out of here. You aren’t the cops.’

‘That’s true,’ said Shelby. ‘But I’m not leaving.’

He met her gaze and tried to stare her down but it was no use. He turned away from the door and Shelby followed him into the gloomy house, slamming the door behind her.

Bud sat down heavily in the Barcalounger in his living room, in front of the photographic shrine to his daughter, and licked his lips. He picked up the remote and switched on the television, staring at some frenetic game show. Shelby stared at him. He did not look up at her.

‘I want to talk to you,’ she said.

Bud had his palms planted on the arms of the chair as if he were trying to anchor himself in a gale. ‘Got nothing to say to you,’ he said.

The game show host’s jolly patter and audience applause was deafening. ‘Can you turn that off please?’ Shelby asked.

Bud increased the volume in response.

Shelby walked over to the television, bent down and turned off the power button. She placed herself in front of the digital box. Bud pressed impotently on the remote. Shelby was blocking the signal with her body.

‘Get out of the way,’ he growled.

‘Trying to win another cruise?’ Shelby asked sarcastically.

Bud avoided her angry gaze.

‘I saw your face when you walked in and saw me here yesterday. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. I want to know why,’ Shelby said.

Bud did not respond, or look at her.

‘You thought you’d never have to see me again, didn’t you?’

‘What do I care about seeing you?’ he growled.

‘I know that you didn’t win that cruise in a contest. I called the cruise line. They don’t do promotions like that. You lied to your wife when you told her that you won that cruise. You did no such thing.’

His defiant expression faded and he drew up his shoulders. ‘What business is that of yours?’

‘I want to know how you got on that cruise.’

‘I bought tickets,’ he said.

‘Do you have a receipt?’ she demanded. ‘A credit card bill?’

Bud looked at her in outrage. ‘Who do you think you are? I don’t have to show you anything of my . . . business.’

‘I think someone else paid for you to go on that cruise,’ she said accusingly.

‘You don’t know anything,’ he said.

‘Well, I know you didn’t pay for it. Let’s not be stupid. One look around here makes that pretty clear.’

He pursed his lips, and his gaze was flinty. ‘Must be nice to be rich and look down on everyone else,’ he said.

Shelby was not about to respond to, or be distracted by, this guilt trip. ‘Who paid for you to go on that cruise?’ Shelby demanded.

Bud shook his head. ‘It was a gift. Now, get out of my house. Mind your own business,’ he said.

‘From who? I can find out,’ she said.

Bud shrugged, his eyes averted.

‘Look at me, goddamit,’ Shelby cried. ‘What were you doing there? Why were you with my daughter? Did someone pay you?’

‘You’re crazy,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never took a dime. From anybody. Now get out of my house or I’ll call the cops.’

Shelby pulled her cell phone out and tried to hand it to him. ‘Go ahead,’ she said. ‘Let’s do that. Let’s get the cops involved in this.’

Bud did not take the phone from her. ‘Leave me alone,’ he said in a weary tone. ‘I’m a sick man. You barge in here, making threats . . . Just go away.’

Shelby hesitated, and then put her phone back in her pocket. She moved away from the TV, and sat down in a chair across from him. She took off her cap, turning it between her hands.

Bud rubbed his fingers over the remote, but did not turn on the television. For a few moments the room was silent. Then Shelby said, ‘I have a bunch of photos in my apartment too. Of my daughter. A lot like the ones you have of Faith. Baby pictures and school pictures and even a wedding picture.’

Bud licked his lips.

‘She was my only child,’ said Shelby, her voice shaking. ‘If you know what happened to her, you have to tell me. If it were Faith, you would want to know . . .’