Vanished (20 page)

“Will you help me?” Her eyes begged and Marielle didn't want to hear her, just as Tom Armour hadn't wanted to, but he had. Bea Ritter was uncomfortably convincing.

“Find my son and I'll believe you,” Marielle said coldly.

“I'll try.” Bea Ritter finally stood up. “May I call you if anything comes up?” Marielle hesitated, and then in spite of herself, she nodded. “Thank you.” Bea stood for a moment, looking at Marielle, as though wondering about all she'd heard, and then she thanked her again and left, as Marielle watched her.

Marielle was still sitting at her desk, thinking about her unhappily, when John Taylor arrived with the U.S. Attorney. He was a tall, thin, spare, somewhat frightening-looking man, who seemed absolutely certain that Charles Delauney had kidnapped her child, and what's more, he was certain he had killed him. Marielle flinched as she heard the words, and John Taylor ached as he watched her. It was a far cry from Bea Ritter's plea to help him.

The U.S. Attorney told her they had scheduled the case for March, and he explained to her that they expected a guilty verdict, and hoped for every possible cooperation from her and her husband.

“What does that mean, Mr. Palmer?”

“It means that I expect you to be at the trial, to sit there and make the jury care. We want them to know what losing your boy has meant to you, so they convict Mr. Delauney. And if we're lucky, and can prove or even imply that he crossed state lines with the boy, we'll get the death penalty, Mrs. Patterson, and nothing less!” The way he said it made her shiver. He also made her feel that he was going to try to convict Charles on the emotions of the case, more than the evidence. And it worried her to be put “on display” during the trial. Taylor didn't like it either, but he understood it. William Palmer was a highly respected prosecutor, but not much of a human being. “Of course, if we find your son by then, we'd like to see him in court too, but only briefly.” Marielle sat there thinking that she would have loved that. If only they would find him and he could be there.

“Anything else?” She was being flip with him because what he was saying was so awful, but he didn't seem to get the point as he stood up and prepared to leave her.

“We'll let you know.” He readjusted his glasses, stared at her as though evaluating how good a witness she'd make, and picked up his briefcase. “I'd like to see your husband when he gets back from Washington, if you'd let him know.”

“I'll tell him.” He left and Taylor stayed on, and she sighed as they sat down on the couch. It had been an endless month, a hideous time, and they still had no idea what had happened to Teddy. There had been no calls, no tips, only a few bum leads, and a handful of crackpot sightings from New Hampshire to New Jersey.

“He's sweet.” She was referring to the U.S. Attorney, and Taylor laughed as he lit a cigarette and watched her. She was a good sport, among other things, when life wasn't crushing her to extinction.

“He's better in court than in the drawing room.”

“Lucky for him.” And then she looked inquiringly at John. In an odd way, they had become friends. Sometimes she felt as though he was her only ally. “I imagine the trial will be really awful.”

“It'll be rough. And they'll bring out things you won't like … at least the defense will, maybe your time in the hospital, or something like that. They have to do what they can to discredit you.”

“Why? I'm not accusing Charles.” Although most of the time she now believed he did it. It was only now and then that she had doubts about Charles's guilt. She told him then about Bea Ritter.

“Stay out of it. You'll only get hurt. Whatever the press gets hold of, they're going to twist and use to stab you in the back with.” She agreed. But what if the girl in the funny hats was right? She was so smart and so intense and so earnest. “I don't know what to think sometimes,” she admitted to John dejectedly. “And what difference does it make anymore? Teddy's gone. The rest is all so unimportant.” Her eyes were so big and sad as she said it. She had lost three children in one short lifetime.

“It isn't unimportant to Charles. His life is at stake. He's going to be clutching at straws for his survival.”

“Who's his lawyer?”

“He picked a good one. A man named Tom Armour. Smart, young, he can be brutal in court, but if anyone can save Delauney's neck, he will.”

“I don't know if I'm glad or not. I don't know what I think anymore. Malcolm says he did it. And when they found the bear …” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away. “But I don't know …when I went to see Charles, I believed him when he said he didn't. But if he didn't, where is Teddy?” It was the one question no one could answer, and as he watched her, he felt so drawn to her, he could hardly listen to her questions. He had never felt like that about anyone, not even his wife, and certainly not the women he usually dealt with in investigations, but there was something about her that just drove him to distraction. Something so vulnerable and soft that all he wanted to do when he was near her was reach out and touch her.

“I wish I knew the answer to that,” he finally said, but his eyes caressed her as they sat on the couch and it grew dark. It was another cold night, and she was alone, as usual. Malcolm was away, and in spite of the police everywhere, the house seemed so empty and lonely. He wished that he could take her to dinner somewhere, somewhere where there was noise and laughter and smoke and music. He wished he could take her away from it all, from men who beat her and broke her heart, and others who ignored her. He knew more about Malcolm Patterson now than he cared to know, and one thing he knew for sure was that Marielle was getting less than she deserved from everyone. And John Taylor wished that he could make things different. “I wish I could make all of this go away for you, Marielle.” It was an unprofessional thing for him to say, but it really touched her.

“That's sweet of you. So do I, I guess. … I used to believe that difficult things happened for a reason. I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Too much has happened to me.” It was impossible to believe that through totally unforeseeable and hideous circumstances, the woman had lost three children. “Do you have children?” She knew so little about him, and yet she had known for a month now that she liked him.

“Two. A girl fourteen and a boy eleven.” And then, suddenly he was sorry he'd said it, but she seemed peaceful as she nodded.

“Andre would have been eleven” …and the little girl eight …the baby who died without ever taking a breath, and with no name …just baby girl Delauney.

“Jennifer and Matthew.” He filled in to distract her.

“Do they look like you?” She was smiling, enjoying just talking to him about normal things, not kidnapping and murder.

“I don't know. People say he does. It's hard to tell What about you? What do you like to do when life is normal?”

She smiled at the question. “I like to swim, and go for long walks, and ride … I like music … I used to paint years ago, but I haven't in years …” Not since the hospital, but she didn't say that. “I like all the silly things I used to do with Teddy.” Everything always came back to that, in the end, it was all she could think of. “We saw
Snow White,
the day …the day he …”

“I know,” he said softly. He remembered. She nodded then, feeling sad, and he put a hand on hers, and she looked at him wondering why he cared, why he was so nice, but she was grateful that he was there. He always seemed to be there when it mattered. “Marielle …” He spoke her name softly, and the air seemed not to move between them, and then without saying anything, he leaned toward her and kissed her. She felt her whole body melt close to him as he took her in his arms and held her close, and all she could think of was the power of him, the excitement and the strength, and the kindness. She didn't know what to say to him when he pulled away from her and they both looked surprised, but it was obvious from her face that she was happy.

“I'm not sure what to say now …except that you mean a lot
to
me …and I'm not sure I could have survived all this without you.”

“I want to be there for you …” He wanted to give her more than that, but he didn't know how to say it. He pulled away slowly, and sat back against the couch, wondering at what he had done, and why, except he knew he'd had to do it. He could never have given her any of the things she had. All he could give her was the one thing he knew she didn't have, and hadn't in years: love. And one thing he was sure of, Malcolm Patterson didn't deserve her. She was looking at John quietly, and she looked more peaceful than she had in a long time, as she touched his hand and then kissed it.

“Do you love your wife?” She wanted to know, more out of curiosity than anything else. She wanted to know him better. And he could never be anything less than honest with her. He hesitated and then nodded.

“She's very lucky.” But he didn't want to talk about his wife with her.

“I haven't been able to think about anyone but you since the night I met you. All I wanted to do that night was put my arms around you.” They exchanged a long intense look, and then each knew what the other was feeling. They didn't even need the words. All they needed was each other. And they both knew he could lose his job over what he was doing …and his wife …but the truth was, he didn't care now. All he wanted was to be with her, to take care of her, and protect her as no one else had. Marielle was drawn to him too, but she couldn't imagine what would happen. They were both married, whether happily or not, and however angry Malcolm was at her now, she couldn't leave him after losing Teddy.

“What's going to happen to us?” she asked softly.

What do you want to happen, Marielle?” His voice was deep and gentle.

“I'm not sure.” She looked worried. She didn't want to hurt anyone, not John, or his wife, or even Malcolm.

John touched the silky cinnamon-colored hair. And the truth was that he was ready to leave Debbie for her, but he knew that if he told Marielle that, it would frighten her and make her feel guilty. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep, yet he wanted her so badly. He wanted to be with her, to help her, to hold her, to give her everything she'd never had before. He wanted all of her …her soul …her life …and her body….

“You haven't had a hell of a lot of lucky breaks, my friend.” He said it with a rueful smile, and more kindness in his eyes than she had seen in a lifetime.

“No, I guess you could say that …Teddy was one of them …and now you …maybe that's all you get …maybe all you get out of anything worth having is a few years, a few days … a few moments …” She had had Andre for a brief two years…. Charles for three …Teddy for four …maybe that was it …maybe that was all…. Maybe there was no forever.

“You don't ask for much.”

“I haven't had much choice.” She looked him in the eye and he leaned toward her and kissed her again. This time it took their breath away, and he wasn't sure he could restrain himself much longer.

“I want you to be happy …” he whispered heatedly, but she looked at him sadly. Even though he had given her so much joy in these few precious moments, she didn't expect more, and she wanted him to know that. And all she wanted right now was to find Teddy.

“This has been such an awful time …” she said softly.

“I know.” He took her hand in his own, wishing he could solve all her problems. Maybe in time …but he shuddered to think what would happen to her if they never found the boy, or they only found his body. “You have to be very strong, Marielle.” He knew she was already. “I'm here to help you.” And then he had a thought, because in truth, she asked so little of him. “Why do you ask so little of everyone? Why are you so decent?” Therein he knew he had found the key. That was why they all hated her. Because she expected nothing of them, because she gave without wanting anything in return, and it all made them feel so terribly lacking. She was too good, too kind, too pure, and too willing to endure the pain they gave her. “Don't be so good …even to me, Marielle …don't …” He kissed her again, and she kissed him hard this time, and finally she stopped and pulled away with a small smile that made his heart turn over as he watched her. With all her dignity and gentleness, she still exuded an aura of passion, and she was driving him crazy.

“If we don't stop soon, we're going to have a serious problem.” She looked at him knowingly as she said it.

“I'm not so sure that isn't what I want,” he answered hoarsely. And she was sure it was what she wanted. She hadn't made love to a man in three years, and the sinews beneath his shirt looked powerfully appealing, but they also didn't need that kind of complication at the moment, and they both knew it.

“When this is all over, you and I are going to have a serious talk, Mrs. Patterson. I don't know what's going to happen. But I do know I'm not going to let you off the hook so easily then.” He had never felt like this about anyone, not even his wife, and he wasn't willing to give that up now. The moment he had met Marielle, he had known his life was about to change forever. But he also knew that what he owed her now was to find her son, and if he couldn't do that, to at least help her through the trial and see Charles Delauney convicted.

“Would you like something to eat before you go?” she offered, but he shook his head.

“I have to get back to the office,” he said reluctantly, hating to leave her. He seldom went home before ten o'clock. Because he really didn't want to. He had told Marielle he loved his wife and he did … he had … he used to …But the truth was, he loved his kids more, and that and their religion kept them together. “Ill call you tomorrow,” he whispered to Marielle, wondering if she'd regret what they'd done, what they'd said, and if she'd be embarrassed, but there was a look of contentment in her eyes when she stood up, and she looked at him strangely.

“I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. I just feel peaceful.” As though something very special had happened. And he felt it too. Something right. Something good. Something they both needed and wanted. But would they ever be allowed to have it? It was still too soon to know the answer to that question.