She's Not There (36 page)

Which was when the elevator doors opened and Caroline emerged. She looked straight ahead as she cut across the lobby to the restaurant. As soon as she was out of sight, Steve headed for the elevator, Becky and the balding man following casually after him. Becky got into the first elevator, Steve and the balding man in the one beside it. They proceeded individually down the sixth-floor corridor, Becky the first one to arrive at the suite. She pulled out the keycard she'd lifted from Caroline's purse earlier in the week and unlocked the door.

It was dark in the living room and Becky almost tripped over the coffee table. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Ssh,” Steve warned, bringing his fingers to his lips for emphasis.

Ssh yourself,
Becky thought, as she followed her husband into the girls' bedroom. The man with the carry-on bag waited by the bedroom door.

Becky moved quickly to the crib, relieved to note that Michelle was all but buried underneath her bedsheets, and that Samantha was sleeping peacefully on her back. She reached in and gingerly scooped the toddler into her arms, cradling her head beneath her chin. Samantha made a gurgling noise but didn't wake up. She was so soft, so sweet, Becky thought, swaying back toward the crib. It wasn't too late. She could still put the child back and no one would be the wiser.

It was at that moment she heard her husband's hoarse whisper.

“Come to your Uncle Stevie,” he said, prying Samantha out of his wife's arms and carrying her quickly to the man waiting by the bedroom door. He lowered the toddler into the carry-on bag and watched as the man snapped the bag shut and hurried down the hall.

The whole enterprise took less than five minutes.

“Oh, God,” Becky whispered. “What have we done?”

“Shut up,” Steve told her. “It's over.”

They waited a few more minutes, until they were certain the man had departed the premises, and then they left the suite, taking separate elevators down to the lobby and then returning to their room in the other wing.

“What do we do now?” Becky asked, lowering herself to her bed, her head pounding.

Steve checked his watch. Soon it would be Hunter's turn to check on the kids. Then all hell would break loose.

“I should go check on the kids before dessert gets here,” Hunter was saying.

“And I need a sweater,” Rain announced, patting her chest. “The girls are getting chilly.”

Caroline watched her husband and Rain go their separate ways at the entrance to the restaurant.

Except, of course, they didn't go their separate ways at all. Hunter doubled back, meeting Rain at the elevators that serviced her wing of the hotel. He'd look in on the kids later, assuming he had time. If not, so be it. They'd been checking them every half hour all night. And for what? Nothing was going to happen to them. He'd already left Samantha alone this afternoon for twenty minutes while she was napping and she'd been just fine. Not that he'd told Caroline about it. How could he, after all, when he'd been with Rain? Luckily, he'd had time to take a shower before she came back. Besides, she was being unreasonable and overprotective. If she wasn't careful, she'd turn into her mother. Which wasn't fair, he knew, even as he was thinking it. Caroline was absolutely nothing like her mother. But it made him feel better, a little less guilty, to think ill of her, to pretend that his betrayal was at least partly her fault.

“Come here, you,” Rain said as the elevator doors closed. Immediately her hands were at the zipper of his pants.

“Whoa,” Hunter cautioned, grateful there were no cameras in the elevators. Or anywhere in the hotel, for that matter, which made sneaking around that much easier. “We have to be careful. What if we run into Steve or Becky?” They'd thrown a definite monkey wrench into his plans with their abrupt and unscheduled departure.

“Fuck them,” Rain said with a laugh. “We'll think of something. I've been waiting to get my hands on you all night. I'm not waiting any longer.”

Hunter almost laughed at the urgency in her voice, and was ashamed to find himself so excited.

She already had his jacket halfway off by the time they reached her room. “You are so damn sexy,” she told him, tugging at his pants and falling to her knees.

He wished she'd shut up. That was her problem, he was thinking as she guided him toward her mouth. She talked too damn much.

“Come to Mama,” she said.

And then mercifully, she was silent.

“I don't get it,” Steve said, looking from his watch to the clock beside their bed. “Hunter should have discovered Samantha missing by now.”

“Maybe he has.”

“No. We'd have heard something. I'm going back down.”

“What? No.”

“I have to. It'll look weird if I don't. Are you coming?”

“Are you crazy?”

“Fine. I'll tell them I tried to get you to come back but you refused to listen to reason.”

“You really are a piece of shit.”

“And you're the whipped cream on top.” He opened the door.

And saw Hunter hurrying down the corridor.

“Holy crap.”

“What?”

“I'm pretty sure I just saw Hunter.”

“What? That's impossible. What would he be doing over here?”

“I'm wondering the same thing.”

“You don't think…”

“I think we just bought ourselves another thirty minutes.”

“Look who I found in the lobby,” Rain said, gathering her newly acquired shawl around her as she and Steve rejoined the others.

“I was about to send out a search party,” Jerrod said.

“I forgot I'd already packed the damn thing. Had to unpack my whole suitcase to find it.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire,
thought Steve. He smiled at Hunter.

What the hell is he smiling about?
Hunter wondered.

“Serves you right for being so organized,” said Peggy. “I haven't even started packing.”

“I take it you couldn't convince Becky to come back,” Caroline said to her brother.

Steve shrugged as he pulled out his chair and sat down. “Women,” he said to the men present. “Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em.”

“Nice talk,” said Caroline.

The waiters returned and began preparing the crêpes.

“Kids okay?” Steve asked Hunter.

“Kids are fine,” Hunter said.

O
kay, so maybe it hadn't happened exactly that way, Caroline thought, watching the movie play out in her head again. Maybe she would never know the precise sequence of events of that night or the inflection of each spoken word. Maybe she'd never be privy to the actual thoughts of everyone involved, or the convoluted feelings behind those thoughts. But it didn't matter. She knew enough.

“Are you all right?” Samantha asked her.

Caroline nodded, focusing on the beautiful young girl kneeling in front of her.

“Are you sure?”

Caroline looked around the now empty living room, trying to remember when everybody had left. The dishes, along with the remains of the Chinese food and the empty beer bottles, had been cleared away, although an assortment of smells remained. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Even the reporters have gone home.”

Caroline smiled. “Where's Michelle?”

“Getting ready for bed. You should come, too.”

“I will.” She sighed. “How are
you
doing?”

“Okay. It's been quite the night.”

“That it has.”
My own brother,
Caroline was thinking. That her sister-in-law could have done something so heinous was bad enough, but
her own
brother
. Had he really hated her that much?

Or worse, had he not cared at all?

Jerrod and Rain had left almost immediately after Greg Fisher escorted Steve to the waiting police car, Mary following them to the station in Steve's Buick. “There goes our lift,” Rain had remarked.

Peggy could only shake her head. “At least she's consistent. You gotta give her that.” She looked over at Hunter. “You're an idiot,” she said.

“No arguments there,” Hunter agreed. “I'm so sorry, Caroline,” he apologized again.

“It wasn't your fault,” Caroline said. “Turns out that even if you hadn't been with Rain, even if you
had
checked on the girls, it was too late. Samantha was already gone.”

“Thank you for that,” he said, turning to the daughter he'd lost. “I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything,” Samantha told him.

“I hope you'll give me a chance to make it up to you.”

She nodded, allowing him to take her in his arms.

He kissed her forehead. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Peggy and Fletcher had helped Michelle clean up before they left. “Try to get some sleep,” Peggy advised. “It's going to be another media circus tomorrow.”

She was right, Caroline knew. Her brother's arrest meant more questions, more headlines, more public scrutiny. That was okay. She'd had fifteen years of practice. She could handle it.

The phone rang.

“Who's calling at this hour?” Samantha asked as Caroline reached for the phone.

“Hello, Mother,” she said, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

“How could you?” Mary demanded.

“How could
I
?”

“They've arrested him. Charged him with kidnapping. Did you know there is no statute of limitations on kidnapping? That it's a federal offense? He could spend the rest of his life in jail.”

“Which is no less than he deserves.”

“You have to go to them, convince them it's all a tragic mistake. Michelle doesn't know what she's saying. She doesn't know what she saw.”

“She knows
exactly
what she's saying. She knows
exactly
what she saw.”

“Even if that were true, and I'm not saying it is, it happened so long ago, darling. Fifteen years!”

“I don't care if it was
fifty
years!”

“I understand you're angry. I really do. But what do you gain by putting your brother in jail? Samantha's home. You have your child back. Please don't take mine.”

Caroline could scarcely believe her ears. Even coming from her mother, this was too much. “He's not a child, Mother. He's a grown man who committed an unspeakable act—”

“He was desperate. If he
was
involved with the mob, as you yourself suggested, they would have killed him. Maybe you, too. He didn't know what else to do.”

“Are you seriously suggesting he did this to protect
me
? That he had no other option but to kidnap my baby?”

“I'm saying he didn't know what else to do. He's weak, darling. He's always been weak. Not like you. You're so strong. You've always been so sure of yourself. There's a right answer, and there's a wrong answer. That's always been your motto.”

“And the right answer in this case would be to let him off the hook?”

“What happened is a tragedy, darling. There's no doubt about that. But it has a happy ending. The right thing to do now would be to put it behind us and move on.”

“I don't think I can do that.”

“Then think of the horrible publicity, the indignity of a trial…”

Caroline almost laughed. “I assure you I'm way past worrying about indignity.”

“I'm begging you not to do this.”

“You're asking for too much.”

An angry silence, followed by her mother's low growl. “He'll never be convicted,” she said. “It's Michelle's word against his. The word of a mixed-up, spiteful young woman who'll do anything for attention…”

“Goodbye, Mother.”

“Just think about what you're doing. He's your brother, for God's sake.”

“No,” Caroline said. “Not anymore. But he is definitely your son.” Then she pressed the key to disconnect the call.

The all-news channels were filled with breathless reports of her brother's arrest. Caroline watched them from her bed, switching channels continuously, as if one of them might tell her something she didn't already know. Samantha finished up in the bathroom, then crawled into bed beside her, glancing at the TV image of Greg Fisher guiding Steve from the house to the waiting police car. “Do you think he'll be convicted?”

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe he'll cut a deal.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think Beth knew?”

“I don't know,” Caroline told her honestly. “But I'm sure the FBI will want to talk to her again. At the very least, she might be able to tell us more about the men her husband was involved with.” She gathered their blankets around them. “Do you want to call her?”

“No.”

“It's all right if you do.”

“I don't want to speak to her ever again. I hate her.”

“No, you don't. You love her. And that's all right.”

“How can I love her when she lied to me for fifteen years?”

“Because you do,” Caroline said simply. “Because for fifteen years, she was the only mother you knew. Because she loved you and looked after you. And whatever else she did, however much she knew or didn't know, I have to be grateful to her for that.”

Samantha burrowed in against Caroline's side. “Maybe I'll call her eventually. I don't know.”

“You don't have to decide anything tonight.”

“It'll be strange, not spending Christmas with my brothers.”

“Well, maybe they can come visit one day.” Caroline looked up, saw Michelle standing in the doorway.

“Is this a private party?” Michelle asked.

“It certainly is,” Caroline said with a smile. “Only mothers and daughters allowed.”

Michelle approached the bed, a small paper bag in her hand. She offered it to Caroline.

“What's this?”

“It's for the tree. I bought it this morning. When I was out walking around. I tried to get a star or a giant snowflake, but all they had left were angels. Not that I believe in that stuff. It was just all they had.”

“It's lovely,” Caroline said, taking the glittery, white plastic angel out of the bag and laying it on the night table beside the bed. “You can put it on the tree in the morning.” She turned off the TV, pulled back the covers, and beckoned Michelle in. “Come on. Sleep here tonight. There's plenty of room.”

“Nah. That's all right.”

“Please,” Caroline and Samantha said as one.

Michelle hesitated. But only for a moment. “All right. But I'm warning you,” she said, climbing into bed beside her mother, “I move around a lot.”

“You can dance, for all I care.”

“I just might do that.” Michelle reached over and turned off the bedside lamp, burrowing her backside into the concave curve of Caroline's stomach.

“Good night, Micki,” Caroline said, kissing the top of her shoulder.

“Actually, I think I prefer ‘Michelle.' ”

“Good night, Michelle,” Samantha said without missing a beat.

“Good night, Samantha.”

Caroline smiled as Samantha's hand wrapped around her waist. At some point, it would undoubtedly benefit all of them to seek family counseling, but she'd deal with that later. Right now she just wanted to enjoy the moment, lying in her bed, her daughters' heartbeats bracketing her own. Tears filled her eyes and she stifled a sob.

“You're not going to make the pillow all wet, are you?” Michelle said.

“I just might do that,” Caroline said, repeating Michelle's words.

“All right, but try to keep the noise to a minimum. Okay?”

“I'll try.”

“Good night, Mommy,” Michelle said.

“Good night, Mommy,” Samantha echoed.

Tears of gratitude ran freely down Caroline's cheeks. “Good night, my beautiful, beautiful girls.”