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Authors: Patricia MacDonald

BOOK: Cast into Doubt
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‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ Shelby cried.
Rob shook his head. ‘She was so ashamed. She wouldn’t tell anyone. Except for the people at AA, I guess. And she made it a point to go to a meeting far from home. She used to go down to some church in Old City. So she wouldn’t . . . I don’t know, run into someone she knew. I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t a sign of weakness to ask for help. But she was ashamed. She made me swear.’
Tears filled Shelby’s eyes, and ran down her face. ‘Why?’ she wailed. ‘Why would she do that?’
‘Do what?’ Rob asked wearily. ‘Keep it from you? She knew how you felt about your mother’s drinking. Chloe wanted your approval. Don’t you know that? She always worried that you wouldn’t think well of her.’
‘I loved her,’ Shelby protested.
Rob shrugged. ‘She didn’t want you to think she was weak.’
Shelby shook her head, trying to shake off the truth of what he was saying. If she was honest with herself, she knew there was always a sadness in Chloe that nothing could assuage. But she couldn’t bear to imagine her daughter worrying about being judged. Fearing her disapproval. It was too painful to think about. Not now. Not ever.
‘She wasn’t weak,’ Shelby insisted. ‘She was strong. I mean, you know how strong she was. She was always so disciplined. So fit. In fact, I am thinking that she might have survived the fall from the ship. People have jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge and survived. Chloe might have survived. I’ve been thinking about this. Tomorrow I’m going to go on board the cruise ship and see where it happened for myself.’
Rob shook his head.
‘They can’t stop me,’ she said. ‘Just let them try.’
Rob put his head in his hands.
His defeated look made her suddenly furious. ‘What? Why are you doing that?’
‘The ship is gone,’ he said.
Shelby stared at him. ‘What?’
‘It’s gone. They’re underway to their next port of call.’
Shelby felt stunned. ‘They can’t be,’ she whispered.
‘They are. They have a lot of passengers who’ve paid a lot of money.’
‘That’s more important than Chloe’s life?’ Shelby cried.
Rob did not reply.
‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘And you just let them go?’
‘They didn’t have to ask my permission,’ said Rob coldly. ‘It’s what they do. It’s perfectly legal. Captain Fredericks explained it to me.’
Shelby felt a sudden fury in her heart at his matter-of-fact tone, at his words that sounded so clinical. ‘So, that’s fine with you? You don’t even care that she’s gone, do you?’ Shelby accused him. ‘You’re glad that she’s gone. And who can blame you? You’re rid of your alcoholic wife.’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them.
Rob sat for a moment without speaking, and then he stood up. ‘I need some sleep,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.’
Shelby felt ashamed of herself. ‘Rob, I’m sorry. That was unfair,’ she said.
‘Doesn’t matter. There’s nothing fair about any of this. My world is in pieces.’ On that last word, his voice broke.
Shelby began to weep openly. ‘I shouldn’t have blamed you, Rob.’
‘I blame myself,’ he said. ‘I didn’t keep her safe. I feel like it is my fault.’
‘Oh God. And Jeremy.’
‘I know,’ he said.
Shelby shook her head. ‘Maybe tomorrow something will happen,’ she said hopelessly.
‘I’ll knock on your door in the morning and we’ll go back to the police station.’
‘If you hear anything during the night . . .’
‘Of course,’ he said.
‘I feel so helpless,’ she said.
‘We are helpless.’
Their bruised gazes met for a moment. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said.
She closed the door behind him, and heard his footsteps in the hallway, the sound of him opening the door of his room. She locked her door and went back out to the balcony. She sat back down and stared into the night. In the street below she could hear a young girl singing as she went by on the street. Lighthearted. Untroubled. Her song wafted up through the palm tree fronds.
Shelby buried her face in her hands. Tears seeped through her fingers and dripped from her chin. As the singer disappeared down the street, the sound of her voice became muffled, and then, little by little, it drifted away.
SEVEN
T
he next morning they arrived at the police station early and found Chief Giroux deep in conversation with Agent DeWitt. As Shelby and Rob entered the large common room where half a dozen officers were working, chatting, and drinking tea, the room fell silent. Everyone stared at them for a moment, and then resumed their work in a quieter fashion.
‘How was the Maison?’ Chief Giroux asked. ‘Did Christophe make you comfortable?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Shelby said dully.
‘He runs a very nice place. My father and Christophe’s father came here from Martinique when they were young men. Our mothers are sisters. So, we are more like brothers than cousins,’ he said.
Shelby and Rob did not reply. The only family they could think about was their own.
The Chief did not bother to ask them how they had slept. It was obvious from their rumpled clothes and the blue circles under their puffy, reddened eyes, that the night had been long and grim. ‘We have a few things we need to discuss with you,’ he said.
‘If you both would come with us,’ said Agent DeWitt.
Chief Giroux indicated one of the open interrogation rooms and they all filed in. Agent DeWitt closed the door. On a table at the front of the room was a computer monitor, humming, but blank. Chief Giroux offered them all a seat. Rob refused. Shelby took it gratefully. Chief Giroux’s dark skin made his shirt look almost blindingly white. He clasped his hands behind his back and spoke to them gently but firmly. ‘First of all, Mr Kendricks, Mrs Sloan, It’s my sad duty to tell you that the search for Chloe is no longer a rescue mission. The Coast Guard has suspended all operations . . .’
‘Oh no,’ Rob groaned.
‘What?’ Shelby cried.
The Chief continued speaking as if they had not spoken. ‘Now, it’s officially considered a recovery mission. We don’t need the Coast Guard for that. That can be carried out by the local police.’
Shelby stared at him through eyes grainy from weeping. ‘What does that mean?’
Agent DeWitt toyed with the end of his tie. ‘Simply put, it means that we no longer have the expectation that your daughter can still be alive. We base this on all our knowledge of the sea, the body’s susceptibility to hypothermia, the ocean predators. In fact, there was little chance that she was alive when she went into the water after a fall like that. But by now, the chances are . . . negligible really.’
‘No,’ Shelby protested. ‘You can’t just give up.’
Chief Giroux sighed. ‘Mrs Sloan. I know it’s terribly difficult, but you must understand that your daughter is not going to be found alive. She probably won’t be found at all.’
‘She certainly won’t be found if you stop looking,’ Shelby retorted.
Rob did not protest, but he slumped down into the nearest chair. His face was white as chalk. The police chief simply shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. Shelby turned to Agent DeWitt. ‘Can’t you do something? You’re from the government. Tell them they have to continue.’
Agent DeWitt frowned at her, his gaze sympathetic, but immovable.
‘So, that’s it?’ said Shelby in disbelief. She turned to Rob. ‘Are you just going to sit there? You have to do something.’
Rob’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘I’m not a magician, Shelby. If I could bring her back I would.’
Shelby ignored him, hating him. ‘What if we were to hire searchers of our own? Maybe you could suggest someone. People who know these waters . . . I can pay for it. I’ll gladly pay for it.’
‘Mrs Sloan,’ said the chief, his eyes filled with concern. ‘I cannot stop you if that is what you want to do. But she went overboard nearly thirty-six hours ago. Short of a miracle . . .’
‘Yes,’ Shelby said hopefully. ‘A miracle. It could be—’
‘I would be lying to you if I agreed with you. It’s impossible to survive that long in the water. Especially after a fall like the one she took from the boat,’ said the chief. ‘I cannot encourage you to throw your money away.’
‘It’s my money. If I want to hire someone—’
‘See here,’ said the chief. ‘I will arrange it for you, all right. I will arrange for several boats to continue the search, for as many days as you authorize.’
‘I don’t want just anybody,’ Shelby insisted. ‘I want helicopters too. And qualified people. Boaters who know these waters.’
‘I understand. And all this can be arranged.’ he said soothingly. ‘Independent contractors. I warn you, it will be at great expense. But, I can contact these people for you, if that is what you wish.’
‘Then do,’ said Shelby.
‘I have to advise you against this,’ said Agent DeWitt. ‘It makes no sense. This is a waste of your resources. The Coast Guard used aircraft – both helicopters and a long-range surveillance plane. They used their own cutters, and they thoroughly searched an area of approximately 800 square miles. They scanned it repeatedly with the most sophisticated equipment available.’
‘Still . . .’ Shelby said stubbornly.
Chief Giroux and Agent DeWitt exchanged a glance. ‘You don’t have to decide right this minute,’ said the chief. ‘Think it over and you can call me. If you decide that’s what you want, it won’t take any time at all to put this plan into operation.’
‘And furthermore, I’m not at all satisfied with your conclusions. You don’t even know how she came to be in that water. It’s not good enough to say she was drunk and she fell overboard. I don’t accept that,’ Shelby insisted.
‘That’s one reason we brought you in here. I want to show you something,’ said the chief. He approached the computer that was sitting on a desk at the front of the room. ‘Mr Kendricks saw these yesterday. I wanted you to see them. Look here.’ He began to key in some commands, and the computer screen raced from one image to another. The chief halted at the one he wanted.
Shelby leaned forward and watched the video that was on the screen. The film was shot from above, from a fixed location. The people on the film were strolling in front of a café. It took Shelby a moment to recognize the young woman with long, wavy hair, wearing a sundress, leaning against the bar.
‘Chloe,’ Shelby yelped, automatically reaching for the screen. ‘Where is she? Where did you get that?’
‘It’s film from the security camera on the Lido deck of the ship,’ said Agent DeWitt. ‘Watch what she does.’
Shelby watched as Chloe, looking all around her guiltily, placed an order. The bartender pulled a bottle off the shelf behind him and made her a drink. Chloe handed him her card and gulped the drink down. He had no sooner swiped her card than she indicated that she wanted another. The bartender complied.
‘So, she had something to drink,’ said Shelby dismissively.
‘If you like, we can watch her drink two more of these,’ said Agent DeWitt with a hint of sarcasm.
Shelby felt her face redden.
‘Now,’ said Chief Giroux, aiming a remote at the keyboard. Another image arose, this one of tables with many people seated, talking and consulting the cards in front of them. It was easy to spot Chloe. She sat stiffly at a table near the back of the room, a numbered card on the table in front of her. The camera that caught her was also positioned near the back of the room, so Shelby was able to have a clear view of her daughter. She was a few seats down from the other people. A woman leaned over to talk to her, and Shelby recognized Virgie and Don, the fiftieth anniversary couple who had talked to her in the hallway yesterday. They were clearly trying to engage Chloe in conversation. Shelby watched as Chloe replied, gesturing vaguely.
The other couple Shelby had met, Bud and Peggy, joined the table, and Peggy leaned her metal cane against it. The conversation continued. Chloe’s eyelids drooped and, while she was talking, she made an expansive gesture that knocked the cane over and it clattered to the floor. Chloe looked chagrined, and got unsteadily to her feet. She bent over to try to retrieve the cane, but couldn’t seem to grasp it. The lame woman’s husband came around and picked it up. Chloe clearly was apologizing but he shook his head as if to say it didn’t matter. This time, he placed the cane far out of Chloe’s reach.
The bingo game proceeded and all were marking their cards except Chloe, who was staring into her drink, and occasionally making some comments to no one in particular. Her head would begin to nod, and then she would force herself awake, like a sleepy driver at the wheel of a car. Finally, she could resist her condition no more. Her eyes closed, and her head hit the table, her arms splayed out across the table, sending bingo cards skidding across the table’s surface, and markers fluttering to the floor. Her cheek was mashed against the tabletop. Her eyes were closed. People from the other tables turned to stare. The people at Chloe’s table looked at her, and then at one another worriedly. The old woman began to shake Chloe’s shoulder and speak directly into her ear. Chloe shook her head but did not lift it from the table.
Shelby averted her gaze from the screen. ‘Enough,’ said Shelby.
The chief turned it off. ‘We have a lot more footage,’ said the chief with a sigh. ‘We have footage of her being helped to her room, these people carrying her shoes and pocketbook, and she cannot even stand up. Of course there is no footage from inside the cabins – that’s private space – but we can surmise that after these nice people left her alone in the room . . .’
‘All right,’ Shelby cried. ‘All right.’
Rob sat, stone-faced, staring at the blank screen.
The chief and Agent DeWitt exchanged a glance.
‘What now?’ Shelby whispered.
‘You go back home and remember her in happier times,’ Giroux advised.

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