One Week To Live (18 page)

“You look like shit,” her friend announced, breezing past her into the living room.

“After your late night date and the commotion at the pool, I figured you’d sleep in until noon.” She studied her watch. “It’s only 10 a.m.”

“Brian was concerned. He asked me to look in on you.”

“He’s not here?” She peered out the door before quickly closing it when a passing neighbor stared in. “I expected him to be hovering nearby waiting for me to let him in. Where did he go?”

“Dunning demanded the last note you guys got,” Rita said. “So he returned to his condo to bring the note to him.”

“You don’t need to babysit me, Rita. I’m fine,” she sniffed, balling up the tissue in her hand.

“Those red eyes and that blotchy face say otherwise,” Rita replied.

“I’m okay.” She sucked in a breath.

“Come here, girlfriend,” Rita said. Motioning her over, she gave her a quick, comforting hug.

“I’ll be all right.” She shrugged out of Rita’s embrace.

“When I talked to Brian after you’d fled to your apartment, he told me how upset you were.” She hesitated. “The guy’s stuck on you.”

“Rita, I’m not in the mood for matchmaking talk right now.”

“You could do worse,” she continued, fidgeting with a lock of red hair.

“What’s up?” Something bothered Rita. She appeared nervous. “Being my babysitter wasn’t the only reason you came over.”

“No,” Rita admitted. “He’s concerned with how personally you’re taking this case, way more than you did in San Diego.”

“A boy died in the San Diego case in spite of my visions. Did he ever think that’s why I’m upset?” She was far more defensive than she should be.

“Remember, you’re talking to Rita, the lady who knows your little secret. And I suspect Brian figured it out, too.”

“What did you tell him?”

Rita gnawed on her lower lip for a minute. “Uh…I think I kind of spilled the beans.”

“You told him that Polly is my granddaughter, didn’t you?” she exclaimed.

“Not in so many words, but I think he knows. He said something about you having a personal attachment to the little girl, and I didn’t deny it. Then he said something about the kidnapped victim being your granddaughter.”

“And you didn’t deny that either.”

“No,” Rita said, grimacing. “I’m sorry.”

“Great,” she said, sagging onto the worn couch. “Right now he’s probably sitting in that damn condo of his pounding out a story for the world to read. That’s why he left here. It had nothing to do with Dunning and the note.”

Rita perched on the chair opposite her. “I don’t think he’d do that without talking to you first.”

“You don’t know Brian. He’s never asked permission before.” She began to nervously shred her balled-up tissue.

“The fact that Polly is your granddaughter is far more personal than the previous articles he’s written. The man possesses integrity. Something not found in many men today. I should know. I’ve seen enough flakes in my time. You should trust him.”

“I haven’t trusted any man in a long time and there’s no reason to trust Brian now. He keeps telling me he won’t write about me and then he does.”

“If that’s the case, which I don’t think it is, and he does write that article, your daughter will be reading about her relationship to you in tomorrow’s paper.” Rita stood and joined her on the couch. Removing the shredded tissue, she took both of Angie’s hands in her own. “Tell her before he does.”

“But it’s the wrong time.”

“I suspect, knowing you, there will never be a right time,” Rita said.

“Damn you, Rita. My life’s complicated enough.”

“Again, I’m sorry. Brian seemed so upset, so in need of answers. When he asked, I couldn’t deny his suspicions. You know me; I’ve never been one to keep secrets.”

Her friend looked so forlorn. She shouldn’t have told her. But perhaps the truth had been hammering to get out for awhile. It was time to reveal the truth to the one person who should know: her daughter. Was she brave enough to face what she’d avoided for so long? She wasn’t sure.

She sucked in a deep breath. “The damage has been done. She shouldn’t read something so personal in the paper. I’ll tell her.”

“I’d hoped you’d say that. Here’s the name of the hotel where she’s staying and her room number.” Rita handed her a piece of paper.

“How’d you get that?” The information put her one step closer to the moment of truth she’d both dreamed of and dreaded for some time.

“I have my sources,” Rita smiled mischievously. “I’ve been in this town a long time and I know many people who owe me favors.”

She took the information. “Thanks. Now scat, so I can get my thoughts together. Figure out exactly how I’m going to approach this.”

Saying goodbye to Rita, she closed the door and went into her bedroom. Opening her closet, she studied her clothes. What should a woman wear to tell a stranger that she was her biological mother?

The more she studied her wardrobe, the more she worried about the meeting. She suspected it might not be the happy mother/daughter reunion she’d always hoped for.

****

Dropping the clue off at Dunning’s office, Brian made his escape and headed to Angie’s. He needed to learn the truth about her and Susan. For him, the woman’s emotional outburst said more than words could. He knew Susan was adopted and her adoptive parents were both dead. Was she Angie’s biological daughter? Rita hadn’t outright said so, but she hadn’t denied it either.

Skirting the neon glitz and traffic of the Strip, he took the less busy route across town, passing street after street of small, flat-roofed houses. Considering the current circumstances, it became more and more difficult to be objective enough to do his job. Write only what he saw and not what he felt. Report the news but not make the news. That was his credo.

But he couldn’t adhere to that anymore, which was frustrating. If he could, he’d be back in his condo writing the latest story about Angie and her daughter and granddaughter after verifying the facts. The emotional impact of that article would bring tears to many readers’ eyes and maybe lead to an important turn in the case. Only one day remained before Polly might die.

The problem was he cared too much for Angie. Because he did he questioned whether he should even write the story. When he sat down at his computer this time, his personal and professional lives warred with each word he wanted to write. This happened only once before in his career, the day his own son was abducted.

Thankful to find a parking space in front of her apartment building, he hurried through the courtyard past the swimming pool. A pool he’d never look at in the same way. He could still see the doll even though it was gone.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he didn’t expect to confront her ex-husband at the top. The man paced back and forth in front of her place, his impatience obvious. Thankfully, she wasn’t home.

The Internet photos he’d seen of her ex didn’t convey the ferocity of the man with his dark hair and eyes. From what he’d read, the man used intimidation as part of his game. Well Brian could play at that game, too.

“Who are you?” he questioned, glaring at Brian.

“Who I am is none of your business.” Remembering what she told him about her ex-husband’s treatment of her, his anger grew. He itched to punch the smugness from the man’s face.

He surveyed Brian from head to toe, apparently displeased with what he saw. “I think it is my business since you’re gracing my wife’s doorstep.”

“Your ex-wife and you’re the one who shouldn’t be here. There’s a restraining order against you.”

“The restraining order was good in San Diego, but it isn’t here.”

“It wouldn’t take long for me to arrange another one,” Brian countered, his temper at the boiling point. “I’ve friends in the police department.”

The man’s scowl deepened. “I have friends, too. Money buys a lot in this town.”

“So why are you here?”

“Pending business deals.”

“When do you plan on leaving?” he asked.

“Not until I get my wife back.”

“She’s your ex-wife and she wants nothing to do with you.”

“We’ll see about that. What I want I always get and I want Angela back. Once I’ve talked to her, she’ll see it my way.”

“She’s not one of your business deals,” he fired back, becoming more and more irritated with the man’s attitude.

“I’ll be back. Giving up isn’t in my vocabulary.” He started down the stairs then stopped. “Better say your goodbyes. She won’t be here much longer. Now that I’ve found her, she won’t be escaping me again.”

****

The rumbling thunder rattled the house’s windows, but he didn’t take much notice. Thank goodness, he’d be rid of this place soon. He’d always disliked thunderstorms, but he’d never been afraid of them. That fear was reserved for kids and animals, not him.

A flash of lightning briefly lit the room. He grabbed his duffle and started to pack it making sure he commandeered the rope he’d soon need. Tomorrow was the seventh day. He smiled. He’d known from the start they’d never find him or the little girl. He was more clever than they were, but he grew tired of the game. It was time to end it. Zipping up the duffle, he set it by the front door. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he composed the last of his clues.

Chapter Fifteen

Thursday afternoon

When she arrived at her daughter’s hotel, she used the house phone to call the woman’s room. She now waited in the coffee shop for Susan to come down, her heart rate increasing with each passing moment. The time had come and she wasn’t ready, but would she ever be? For something to do while she waited, she grabbed the table’s cloth napkin and began twisting it.

The waitress, dressed in a well-starched pink uniform, rushed over to take her order. Angie asked for coffee, nothing more. She wasn’t hungry. The waitress couldn’t help but notice the balled up napkin. Grabbing it, she removed it from the table and brought her a fresh one with the coffee, smiling as she did.

Angie glanced nervously at the coffee shop entrance while families nearby munched on huge hamburgers. The restaurant’s circus-like atmosphere catered to children. Decorations included a working merry-go-round with colorful carousel animals in the far corner of the room.

Looking toward the entrance again, she spotted Susan. Her heart skipped a beat and her throat grew dry. This was a bad idea, she thought. Then she remembered Brian’s possible pending newspaper article. It might be a bad idea, but it couldn’t be avoided.

Standing, she forced a smile and waved. When her daughter approached, she saw that she’d been crying. She fought the overwhelming desire to reach out and hug her. That’s what mothers did for daughters in pain, but she’d never been this woman’s mother.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” she said, realizing how formal she sounded, like greeting a stranger. But the woman was a stranger.

“Where’s Brian? On the phone I thought you said he wished to talk to me.”

The waitress arrived and asked Susan if she wanted anything. She didn’t.

“He couldn’t make it. A last minute meeting came up.” She hated lying, but she couldn’t think of any other way to lure her daughter from her room.

“There’s no reason to talk to you. Brian’s the one who’s been telling my story. You’re a stranger. Why would you want to see me?”

Sitting face to face with her daughter, she didn’t know how to tackle what she needed to tell her. Blurting it out didn’t seem right.

“So if you don’t expect Brian anytime soon, I’ll be going. I don’t want to be far from the phone in case Special Agent Dunning calls.” She hesitated. “I was so upset when I left San Diego, I forgot my cell phone.”

“I see.” The conversation was dissolving into mindless chitchat and Susan was about to flee.

“The Special Agent assures me they’ll find my little girl.” Her daughter choked back tears, and Angie fought to keep her own emotions in check.

“He’s experienced with these kind of cases.” She hesitated and blew her nose. “I’m happy he’s sticking to the facts he’s gathering rather than listening to your psychic visions. No offense, but I heard they didn’t work in San Diego. I don’t want my daughter to suffer the same fate as that little boy.”

She struggled to ignore the stinging comment. Coming from her daughter, the hurt went deep.

“It must be difficult being alone right now,” she said in an attempt to change the subject. “Do you have any family that could be with you?”

Susan shook her head. “No, both my parents are dead, and I’m an only child. With no siblings, there are no aunts, uncles, or cousins. All I have is my sweet Polly.”

Did her daughter know she was adopted? She hadn’t mentioned birthparents. Was she about to destroy a truth Susan believed all her life? Did she think her adoptive parents were her blood relatives?

Her next words dispelled this concern. “I should clarify that my mom and dad were my adoptive parents. Since they loved me and raised me, I consider them my real parents. The people who gave me away have no right to that title.”

Her harsh words stabbed at her. Again she thought about not telling Susan, but once more remembered Brian’s possible article.

“You’ve never wondered who your real parents are?”

“No. Why should I?” Susan said.

The knife twisted further into Angie’s heart.

“I need to go,” Susan said, standing.