Don't Tell (37 page)

She turned her cheek into his palm, her body sagging in relief. „Then let’s go. You’ve got a bunch of starstruck kids waiting to drool puddles on their Nikes.“ She stood up and gathered her dropped clothes from the floor.

„Caroline?“

She stopped, holding the clothes to her chest. „Yes?“

„Later, when we’re done at this thing for Frank? I want to go back to my house and hear the whole story.“

She fumbled with the clothes. „Why?“

Max stood and put his hands on her shoulders. He bent over and kissed her neck through her sweater. „Because I need to understand.“ He tipped up her chin and gently kissed her mouth. „Because you matter to me.“

Chicago

Saturday, March 17

10:30 A.M.

„Can’t you stay a little longer?“

Winters paused from buttoning his cuffs to look down at the young body in the bed. He drudged up a winning smile. „Sorry, sweetheart. I have to work today. I’m already late for a toilet snake and a hot water heater installation.“ In reality he was furious with himself. He should have been at Mary Grace’s apartment hours ago. He never, ever overslept. It must have been all the stress adding up.

Evie pulled the sheet up to cover herself and sat up in the bed. She rubbed her temples. „I have one awful headache.“

He was surprised she wasn’t in the hospital. The girl could really put it away. „Try a few aspirin.“

She nodded wearily. „Sounds like a plan. I don’t want to be hungover when Dana gets home.“

Winters’s hands stopped abruptly. Recovering quickly, he slipped the last button through the hole. „Dana?“

Evie pressed her fingertips into her eye sockets. „Dana Dupinsky. She’s my roommate. She and Caroline are best friends. Dana’s working nights this weekend. She’d be truly pissed to find me hungover with a man in my bed. I’ve got“ – she squinted at the clock – „about a half hour to get myself together.“

So Dana Dupinsky was her roommate. It truly was a small, small world. Perhaps he’d get a chance to extend his personal thanks to Ms. Dupinsky after all.

„So, what are you doing tonight, Evie?“

She looked up, her eyes bloodshot. „I don’t know. You want to do something?“

Winters tucked his shirt into his pants. „I’ll pick you up at eight.“

Chapter Eighteen

Raleigh, North Carolina

Saturday, March 17

2:45 p.m.

Steven’s cell phone jangled just as he pulled his car into his driveway. „Thatcher.“

„Steven, it’s Toni.“ She was breathless. „I just got your page. What do you have?“

„Where are you, Toni?“ he asked, getting out of his car.

„Just got back from my run. Did you have any luck with Livermore?“

Steven pulled his briefcase from the backseat. „No,“ he answered with a grimace. „Rodriguez had to give it up when Livermore’s attorney shut down the interview. We didn’t even chip through the surface. Livermore’s one cold SOB. He didn’t give a damn about any of those women or why Winters wanted them. It was a job, nothing more.“

„You order a psych profile?“ Toni asked, her breathing calmer.

„The DA’s office will. Dime to dollar they rule him a sociopath. No conscience whatsoever.“ Steven slammed his car door a good deal harder than he needed to. „Those guys give me the chills. Hey, Cindy Lou,“ he added, patting the shaggy head of the Thatcher family sheepdog.

„Who’s Cindy Lou?“ Ross asked, mild amusement in her voice.

„My dog. My youngest named her after Cindy Lou Who, who was not more than two.“

„Christmas gift, huh?“

Steven scowled as the dog drooled on his shoe. „Christmas mistake.“ He raised his knee to Cindy Lou’s chest just in time to protect his suit coat from two dirty paws the size of dinner plates.

„You’re a grinch, Steven,“ Toni said, laughing.

„I’m a man who likes clean clothing. Listen, I’m due at my son Matt’s piano recital in twenty minutes so I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now. I just wanted to let you know I heard from Spinnelli in Chicago. He sent a unit to Caroline Stewart’s apartment this morning, but she wasn’t home. Instead, they talked to a neighbor, an old man, who said Ms. Stewart left with a man thirty minutes before the unit got there.“

„Don’t tell me it was Rob, Steven,“ Toni said, her voice heavy with dread. „Please.“

„Daddy!“ A red blur tackled him around his legs and Steven scooped his youngest son up into his arms, trapping the cell phone between his shoulder and ear.

„Hey, baby.“ He smacked a loud kiss on Nicky’s forehead, then hitched his boy up on his hip. „No, Toni, it wasn’t Winters. It was some tall guy with a cane. Old guy said his name was Max.“

„Did Max have a last name?“

„Spinnelli’s men asked, but the old guy said he didn’t pry into the affairs of his neighbors.“ Steven snorted. „Chicago PD said the old guy practically lives on the stoop. I wish he’d pushed himself to pry just this once.“

Toni sighed her relief. „Well, at least she has someone to take care of her. I’d hate to think of her duct-taped to a bed in some sleazy motel.“

„Or at the bottom of a river. I gotta go, Toni. Call you later.“ Steven hung up, slipped his phone back in his pocket, and swung a squealing Nicky up on his shoulders.

„Daddy, what’s at the bottom of the river?“ Nicky asked, ducking as they passed through the front door.

Steven thought about Susan Crenshaw and the devastation Winters had left in his wake. A fresh wave of fear shook him as he thought of Winters sitting right in front of his house, mere inches from his precious baby. Then the fear became grim determination. No way in hell would that bastard touch his family. No way would his children live in fear. „Just that big grandad catfish that jumped off my hook last time we went fishing,“ he answered his son. He swung Nicky down from his shoulders and sat him on the third stair of the staircase so they were face-to-face. „What do you say after Mart’s recital we all jump in the car and go fishing for the rest of the afternoon?“

Nicky’s smile beamed from among his freckles. „Really?“

„Really.“ Steven shoved all thoughts of Winters back as far as he could, which wasn’t very far. But he made himself grin anyway. „I’m feeling lucky today.“

Nicky jumped to his feet. „Lucky enough to catch Ol’ Grandad?“

Steven reached out his arms and Nicky jumped into them. „Luckier.“ He hugged Nicky tight. „Much luckier.“

Chicago

Saturday, March 17

3 p.m.

Winters slammed the trunk of his rental car shut. Damned old man. Adelman simply couldn’t leave well enough alone. He just had to go checking on Three A Contractors. Just had to meet him at the door telling him there was no Three A Contractors and he was going to the police. That he knew Winters had gone into Caroline’s apartment when she wasn’t home. That nobody messed with the women in his building, especially the ones with no men to take care of them, like Caroline.

Caroline. The name stuck in Winters’s throat. She’d defied him. Lied to him. Run from him. She’d stolen his son and filled his young mind with lies. Turned his own son against him. And now he knew she was unfaithful as well. She’d come back this morning with the gimp with the cane. She’d been out with him all night, the whore. And she’d left with him again at a little past ten that morning, a small suitcase in her hand. Adelman had given him that much before he’d gasped his last.

Winters fingered the rip in his coveralls. The old man had put up a surprising fight. There really hadn’t been a place to hide him afterwards. Winters hadn’t planned this. It was one of those immediate necessities of life. So for now old man Adelman’s resting-place would have to be the trunk of his rental car. He wouldn’t be able to keep the car for too much longer. There wasn’t enough Brut in the world to cover up that smell once it got kickin’.

Winters slid behind the wheel of his rental car and pulled it from the alley. Great hiding place, that alley. If it wasn’t built just for hiding, it should have been. He wouldn’t bother staying here today. Now that he knew Mary Grace had packed a bag, he knew she wouldn’t be back until at least tomorrow. He looked up at the sky. The weatherman was forecasting rain for tomorrow. Today might be his last chance to get a clear view of Chicago from the top of the Sears Tower.

He had plenty of time to kick back and be a tourist for a few hours. He wasn’t meeting Evie until eight o’clock. His agenda for the evening included working Evie’s sympathies in the direction of „Tom’s“ father. He was fairly optimistic that everything would work out just fine. By tomorrow he’d have Mary Grace in hand. Well in hand. By the time his son returned from his camping trip, Mary Grace would be more than willing to recant every lie she’d told over the years.

By this time next week they’d be a happy family again.

Well, at least he and Robbie would be happy.

Mary Grace would never know the meaning of happiness again.

When he got her home to Asheville, Mary Grace would have to answer to charges of unlawful child seizure. Perhaps she’d even do time for kidnapping his son. No prison sentence would be long enough to make up for the seven years of Robbie’s life she’d stolen, but perhaps it would be enough to put her back in her place for good. And if she didn’t do time, he’d just have to put her in her place himself. He glanced down at his hand and watched his fingers curl into a fist. That would be a hardship of course. The thought of putting Mary Grace in her place without killing her was becoming difficult.

He pulled out into traffic, headed downtown. He should get an awesome view from the Sears Tower on a clear day like this one.

Chicago

Saturday, March 17

5 p.m.

Max checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Caroline had been in the restroom entirely too long. He was getting worried. In truth he’d been worried all day, wrestling with his own feelings – or lack thereof. He was still numb, still didn’t know what to think or say.

God. She’d been abused. Pushed down a flight of stairs and left to recover on her own. There was more, he knew. Everything that must have come before she was pushed that had put those shadows in her eyes and made her flinch if he made any sudden moves.

Max wanted to be angry. He wanted that cleansing burst of sheer fury. But he was just… numb.

And Caroline had been distant since they’d left her apartment that morning. Not once had she initiated anything. No conversation. No touching. Certainly nothing more intimate. And the fact that he wanted her made him feel guilty. Well, he thought, guilt was something. An emotion. A place to start. But how could he take guilt for something he’d had no part in and turn it into something healthy? Something that would make Caroline heal?

He was so unsure. Should he initiate something himself? Would she want him to touch her? He’d wondered through the morning even as Frank’s basketball skills workshop wound to a successful close. He’d agonized through the afternoon as he and Caroline had aimlessly driven around Chicago, with no particular place to go. And now he was terrified as he sat across from the empty seat at the restaurant they’d happened into. Neither of them had chosen the place. Neither of them had chosen anything to eat, each taking the top item on the menu.

He’d made no real choices today. He’d drifted. He was numb.

His brain was jerked out of the mist when a woman with a familiar voice said from behind him, „I don’t need my own table, thank you. I’m with him.“

Max found he wasn’t the least bit surprised when Dana Dupinsky slid into the booth across from him and looked up at the waitress who’d evidently followed her from the front door. „Could you bring me a glass of water with lemon, please?“

The waitress looked at Max and he nodded. „She’s with me.“

One corner of Dana’s mouth quirked up sympathetically. „So how’s it going?“ she asked, pulling Caroline’s plate closer to her.

„Not bad,“ Max returned warily.

Dana dunked a french fry into a cup filled with ketchup and carefully inspected her work. „So she told you?“ she asked, then lifted her eyes to meet his.

Max looked away, unable to come up with an answer to the unspoken question in her eyes. He nodded, incapable for the moment of any speech at all. His eyes scanned the far wall of the restaurant, looking for Caroline to emerge from the ladies’ room.

„She won’t be back for about fifteen minutes,“ Dana offered quietly. She laid her ketchup soaked fry on the side of Caroline’s plate untouched, then went to work dunking another one. „She asked me to come and talk with you.“

Max felt his whole face frown. „I didn’t think we’d met here by pure happenstance,“ he replied, sarcasm making his words harsh.

„I didn’t think you did. So what will you do now?“

He chanced a glance at her face. Her expression was cautious, her eyes sharp and businesslike. Sudden understanding dawned. Dana did more than run a shelter for runaways. Dana sheltered abused women as well. She counseled. She helped women pick up the pieces. Occasionally she must do the same for men.

„She came to you,“ he said. „You helped her.“

„She came to me,“ she confirmed, then countered with a tilt of her head. „She helped herself. So what will you do now, Max?“

„I don’t know,“ he murmured. „I don’t have the first idea.“

„Then you’d permit me a suggestion or two?“

„By all means.“ How ludicrous, he thought, a wave of anger crashing through the numbness of his mind. They sat here, exchanging pleasantries like the hellos of strangers on a crowded street when the real subject was… He swallowed and dropped his forehead into his hand. When the real subject was far too heinous and painful to consider.

Dana dunked another french fry and this time ate it, watching him as she chewed.

„I don’t know what to say to her,“ he confessed. „All day, I’ve just been going through the motions. And then, when I look at her…“

She nodded. „Go on. When you look at Caroline what do you see?“

Max looked up at the ceiling, over at the bar, out the window. Anywhere but into Dana’s brown eyes that seemed to see more than he wanted to bare. „I see…“ He shrugged. „I don’t know. I know what I think I should see.“