Shadow Creek (13 page)

She climbed back into her pajamas, flushed the toilet, turned off the water in the taps, and left the room.

“Are you all right, pumpkin?” James asked as she tiptoed past the sofa on which he was sprawled.

“Fine.” Damn it. Wasn’t anybody asleep?

Another hour elapsed before Brianne was satisfied everyone was finally unconscious. Both her mother and Melissa were snoring in gentle unison, and Jennifer hadn’t moved so much as a muscle in twenty minutes. Pushing herself slowly and gingerly out of bed, Brianne tiptoed toward the living room. She saw James lying on his stomach, one foot reaching for the floor, his head to the wall, eyes closed, mouth open, seemingly dead to the world.

Brianne quickly removed her pajamas, like a snake shedding its skin, stuffing them into her canvas bag along with one of the keycards she’d swiped from the top of the desk. Hopefully she’d be back before anyone even realized she’d been gone. And if someone did wake up and see she wasn’t there, she would simply claim that the earlier ruckus had left her too wound up to sleep and, not wishing to disturb anyone further, she’d gone out for a walk.

That’s me, she thought as she opened the door and stepped into the hall. Always thinking of others.

HE WAS SITTING by himself on a chaise beside the deserted swimming pool when she spotted him.

“Hi,” she said, approaching slowly, looking back over her shoulder to ascertain whether anyone else was watching.

He looked up at her, sad eyes radiating confusion.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

He nodded. “One of those nights.”

“For me, too. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Lots of empty chairs,” he said.

Not encouraging exactly, but not discouraging either, she thought. “I saw you earlier. In the dining room. David, right?”

He cocked his head to one side. Like a quizzical puppy, she thought. She’d never been a fan of puppies.

“I heard your wife call you David,” she said, answering his silent question.

“Among other choice epithets.”

“Yes. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

He smiled. “You are …?”

She gave him her sweetest, most beguiling smile. “Nicole,” she said softly. “But you can call me Nikki.”

O
KAY, SLEEPYHEAD. TIME TO wake up.”

Brianne groaned and flipped over onto her stomach, pulling the covers up over her head in protest.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’re starving. It’s almost nine o’clock. Everybody’s been waiting for you.”

Brianne said nothing. Nine o’clock meant she’d been asleep barely four hours. She was exhausted. Every part of her was sore. All she wanted to do was sleep and dream about last night. Maybe if she refused to answer, her mother would go away and leave her alone.

“They stop serving breakfast at ten o’clock,” Val said instead.

“I can’t believe you feel like eating anything.”

“I’m feeling much better this morning. Besides, we can’t very well go hiking on an empty stomach.”

“Hiking?” Brianne reluctantly poked her head out from beneath the sheets, squinting into the bright sunlight that was pouring into the room from the bedside window. Who had opened the drapes? What was her mother talking about? “You gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s no joke,” Melissa said from somewhere across the room. “Your mother has decided to take us all hiking. We’re going shopping for proper clothes right after we eat.”

“Oh, happy day,” said James.

“Forget it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’ll talk about it at breakfast,” Val said.

“
You
talk about it at breakfast.”

“Come on, Brianne …” Val began pulling at Brianne’s sheets. “It’ll be fun.”

“Who are you—the camp counselor from Hell?” Brianne pushed herself up onto her elbows. Through eyes that were still half closed, she saw her mother and her friends, freshly scrubbed and dressed. She craned her neck for the sight of her father’s fiancée. Surely Jennifer hadn’t agreed to participate in any such insanity. “Where’s Jennifer?”

“She went to the gym,” James said. “You should have seen her in her cute little pink outfit from Lululemon.”

“Said we should just do our own thing and not worry about her,” Melissa said.

“Sounds like a plan.” Brianne flopped back down, dragging the covers back over her head.

Val immediately pulled them down again.

“God, were you this bossy with Dad?” Brianne said. “No wonder …”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Val said, knowing exactly where this
little sentence was going. “Let’s get something straight right now, shall we? Your father didn’t leave because I was bossy.”
Did he?
“And he didn’t leave because I snore.”
Did he?
“He left because he’s an idiot!”

There was a collective intake of breath, Val’s gasp the loudest of all. Had she really just called Evan an idiot? She’d never done so before, never even allowed herself the luxury of thinking it.

“Way to go, girlfriend,” said James, as Melissa nodded vigorously.

“This weekend was not my idea,” she continued softly. “But your father won’t be here till later, and I thought we could use the time for …”

“For what? Some mother-daughter bonding?”

Was she really that transparent? Val wondered. More like pitiful, she thought. “Would that be so awful? I remember when we used to enjoy each other’s company.”

Brianne said nothing, which Val chose to interpret favorably. “Now, get your cute little behind out of bed, and meet us in the dining room for breakfast in twenty minutes. Brianne? Did you hear me?”

Brianne’s response was a loud groan.

“Good. Then we’ll look forward to seeing you in the dining room in twenty minutes.” With that, Val swiveled around on her heels and marched from the room, Melissa and James scurrying to catch up.

“Well done,” Brianne heard Melissa say as the door to their room opened and closed.

“Bravo,” seconded James.

“Yeah, right,” Brianne whispered. Then she flopped back down on her pillow and disappeared under the sheets.

* * *

“DO YOU THINK she’ll show up?” James was asking as they stepped out of the elevator into the main lobby.

“Probably not,” Val conceded.

“So, what happens then?”

“Damned if I know.”

Passing by the reception desk on their way to the dining room, Val recognized the young woman who’d been arguing with her new husband at dinner the night before. She was wearing denim shorts and a sloppy gray sweatshirt. Val estimated her age as late twenties, and noted she didn’t look any happier this morning than she had last night. Obviously David hadn’t apologized.

“I’m telling you something has happened to him,” Val heard her saying to the receptionist. “He went out last night around two o’clock and he never came back.”

“If you’ll give me a minute, Mrs. Gowan, I’ll get the manager.”

“Looks as if our resident asshole went fishing earlier than originally planned,” Val muttered to her companions, steering them toward the dining room.

“Excuse me,” a voice called from behind them.

Val turned back to see the young woman hurrying toward them. The closer she got, the more swollen her face appeared, the red rimming her eyes matching the quarter-size blotches that stained her skin like large freckles. Her auburn hair was pulled off her face into a ponytail and secured at the sides by two large bobby pins, clearly a matter of convenience over style.

“Excuse me,” she said again. “I’m so sorry to bother you but …”

“Yes?” Val asked.

“My name is Alicia Gowan. I think my husband and I were sitting at the table next to yours last night at dinner.”

Val pretended to mull this over. “Oh, yes. I think that’s right.”

“Have you seen him? My husband? Since then, I mean?”

“No, I’m afraid we haven’t.” Val looked toward James and Melissa for confirmation.

“No,” Melissa concurred.

“Is there a problem?” asked James.

“We had a fight.” Fresh tears filled Alicia Gowan’s eyes and fell down her cheeks. “Not even a fight, really. Just a stupid argument. Well, I’m sure you heard it …”

“No,” Val, Melissa, and James all said together, perhaps a beat too quickly.

“I told him I wouldn’t talk to him again until he apologized. Stupid, right? I mean, what good is an apology when someone isn’t sorry?”

Val nodded, deciding to say nothing. There is nothing I can say to this woman that will make her feel any better, she thought.

“Anyway,” the woman continued, unprompted, “he was really angry, said I’d embarrassed him in front of the whole dining room, and that started another argument, and he stormed out. That was around two o’clock this morning. And I waited for him to come back, but he didn’t, and I guess I fell asleep because suddenly it was morning, and he still wasn’t back. So I waited and waited. And then I thought maybe he went back to the city. But his car keys are still here, and I checked the parking lot, and our car is right where we left it. I even looked in the backseat, in case he slept there.” She shook her head. “So then I thought, Well, maybe he hitched a ride back to New
York. But I know David. He would never do that. He wouldn’t just leave and not tell me, no matter how angry he was. And he’s not answering his cell. And the concierge hasn’t seen him. The receptionist hasn’t seen him. None of the waiters has seen him.
You
haven’t seen him,” she said, as if this were the ultimate proof that her husband was truly missing.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Val said, although she was sure of no such thing.

“Maybe he went to another motel,” Melissa offered.

Val thought this was highly unlikely since they both knew there were no vacancies in the vicinity.

“Or maybe he just curled up in a chair somewhere on the grounds and fell asleep,” James said.

“You’re right,” Alicia said. “I’m probably overreacting. But if you should happen to see him …”

“We’ll chew him out good and tell him to get his ass back to you pronto,” James said.

Alicia tried to smile, but her lips were quivering too much to stay still.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Val said again, although she was no surer this time than she’d been the last time she’d said it.

“Mrs. Gowan?” a soothing voice asked.

Everyone turned toward the sound.

The manager, a round little man named Edward Cotton, stood before them, a sympathetic smile on his reassuringly bland face. “I understand there’s a problem?”

“My husband didn’t come back to the room last night,” Alicia began immediately.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in my office.”

“Keep us posted,” Val said as the manager led the distraught woman away.

* * *

THE PARK RANGERS were in the lobby interviewing Alicia Gowan when Val and her friends returned from breakfast.

“Looks like he still hasn’t shown up,” Melissa commented.

“Do you think maybe a bear got him?” James whispered as they walked past.

“I think it’s more likely that a
bar
got him,” Melissa said. “He probably drank himself into a stupor and is somewhere sleeping it off.”

Val tried—and failed—not to picture her mother sprawled unconscious in the alley behind her apartment building. She made a silent vow never to take another drink.

“Ten bucks says Sleeping Beauty’s still asleep,” James said as they entered their suite.

Jennifer was sitting on the living room sofa, rifling through the latest issue of
New York
magazine. She was still dressed in her pretty pink exercise outfit, and her long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and secured by a pink scrunchie.

How is it possible to look so glamorous after exercising? Val wondered. “Where’s Brianne?”

“I assumed she was with you.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About ten minutes.”

“She probably went downstairs for breakfast,” Melissa said.

“We must have just missed her,” said James.

Jennifer put down her magazine. “Why don’t I see if I can find her?” She was clearly eager to put as much distance between her and the others as possible.

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” Val said as Jennifer left the room.

A few minutes later, a series of familiar chimes filled the air. Val followed the sound into the bedroom, her hand rifling under the sheets of Brianne’s bed and emerging seconds later
with her daughter’s BlackBerry. “Honestly, sometimes I think she’d lose her head if it weren’t attached …” She glanced at the incoming message.

Last night was something else
, she read.
Can’t wait to do it again
. What the hell did that mean?

“Is it from Evan?” James asked from the doorway.

“No. There’s no name. Just a number.”

The door to the suite suddenly opened and Brianne burst into the bedroom as if someone were chasing her, stopping abruptly when she saw her BlackBerry in her mother’s hands.

“Forget something?” Val asked.

“Give me that,” Brianne said. “It’s mine.”

“Last night was something else,”
Val recited from memory.
“Can’t wait to do it again?”

“You have no right to read my messages.”

“What does it mean,
last night was something else
?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. Sasha went to this club I told her about. Obviously she had a good time. What’s the big deal?”

“Sasha?”

“Yes, Sasha. She who works at Lululemon and drives an orange Mustang.” Brianne reached for her BlackBerry. Val quickly moved it behind her back. “What are you doing? Give it to me.”

“Why? You don’t take very good care of it.”

“It’s your fault I forgot it,” Brianne countered. “You made me rush.”

Val shook her head. “Okay, fine. It’s my fault. But there’s been enough texting for one trip. The BlackBerry stays with me until your father gets here.”

“Oh, for crap’s sake. Why don’t you just chill? Have another drink, Grandma,” she said with an audible sneer.

“Okay, Brianne. I think that’s quite enough.”

“You want to know what
I
think?” Brianne snapped. “I think Dad got out just in time.”