Since You've Been Gone (39 page)

“Oh, Suzanne, I don't know how to thank you,” Molly choked out.

Suzanne waved her quiet. “Don't you worry. We're going to get Todd back. And Douglas is right. This is all to be kept secret.” Suzanne turned and gave Lynn a surprisingly steely look from her beautiful blue eyes. “Do you understand that, Lynn? This is absolutely a
secret”

“Jeez, I understand,” Lynn said in a bored voice. She made the motion of a key turning at her lips, sealing them like a vault. Doug seemed dismayed by her insouciance. Rebecca clearly wanted to slap her for being a smart aleck. Molly looked wounded. They all thought she was an unfeeling jerk, Lynn thought. If they only knew. Underneath her dress, her heart felt as if it might pound out of her chest. Perspiration popped out on her upper lip. She was more frightened than she had ever been in her life.

Matilda Vinson, the gorgon, was dead. Her neck had been snapped like a chicken bone, snapped the way Larry
had showed her how to do years ago. Shown her and laughed. “Can you believe it's so easy?” he'd crowed. And Matilda had been placed in the Ryan mausoleum. Lynn could just see Larry, drunk out of his mind, loading Vinson's skinny body into his trunk, hauling it to the mausoleum. And how had he gotten in? Years ago when he had been friends with Doug he'd visited this house. No one, not even Doug, knew that he'd stolen the key to the mausoleum, had a copy made, and replaced the original. He'd wanted access to the place because he thought it was so freaky. He'd actually had a party in there one night, managing to escape detection by picking a time when Avram Hale was on vacation; Haie's minions didn't keep a hawk's eye on the cemetery like he did.

Larry probably still had that key somewhere. He would have thought it was the funniest thing in the world to put Matilda's body in that horror of a place. He would have thought Lynn would get a secret kick out of it, too, when she heard. And Frank had told her about the inverted cross drawn on Jonnie's plaque. It had shaken her to the core. When she'd confronted Larry, his denial of drawing the symbol hadn't been convincing. He'd just sounded furious with her for asking him about it.

Now she wanted to scream at all these well-dressed, well-mannered people in frustration for warning her,
specifically,
not to talk about the ransom note. If anyone here believed she might run blabbing to the police, they were crazy. After all, the person who turned up at that ransom drop might be her own brother.

“Becky, I have a favor to ask,” Molly said as they walked out to her car.

“Anything.”

“I want you to go to Leland Park and make the drop.”

Rebecca looked at her. “Why me? I would have thought Doug.”

“Oh, I want him to go, too, if Lynn will let him.”

“Lynn can't stop him when it comes to this,” Rebecca said. “But I still don't understand.”

“I don't quite understand it either. I just know that I want you there. That you are supposed to
be
there.” Molly raised her shoulders. “It doesn't make any sense. Maybe I'm going crazy. It's just so important to me …” Her eyes filled with tears. “But it could be a dangerous situation. It's not fair to ask you—”

“Danger is my middle name,” Rebecca said with a rakish tilt to her head. “I don't care about any possible danger. What's going to happen to me in a park full of people?” She hugged Molly. “I'll go. Count on it.”

FRIDAY
, 8:00
A.M.

Tension thrummed through the Ryan house. Even Sean seemed aware of it, following Rebecca relentlessly, frequently touching her leg with his paw, waiting for her to bend down and rub his head for reassurance.

Rebecca had not slept all night. She felt tired as she and Suzanne started off for Charleston, Rebecca driving her mother's Thunderbird. They listened to music. When the Eagles' “Peaceful Easy Feeling” came on, Suzanne sighed and closed her eyes. “Your father and I loved this song. He used to sing along. And
he
had a great voice.”

Rebecca smiled. “I remember.”

“Jonnie inherited it.”

“And I inherited yours.”

“Poor child.” Suzanne grinned. “Must you drive so slow?”

“I'm doing the speed limit. You and Daddy always flew.”

“And had the speeding tickets to prove it. But it was fun. When he was young, he had a Harley. We soared around the countryside. I never felt so free.”

“You seem in a good mood today in spite of everything that's happening.”

“I feel hopeful, Rebecca. So much time went by without a ransom note that I was sure Todd had been taken by a crazy and there was no chance of getting him back.” She was silent a moment. “I know what you're thinking—we got a ransom note for Jonnie, too, but ransom didn't save him. But that time we didn't do what the kidnapper wanted. Sheriff Lutz and the FBI were sure they knew best. They didn't. Now neither Lutz nor the FBI knows. Not even Bill knows. He's my brother and he wants to do what's best,
but he's still a policeman to his bones, even though he loves Todd.”

“He told me he's been dating Molly.”

“It's more than that. He's in love with her. He has been for months. Maybe over a year. He's never said anything, but he
is
my brother. I could tell at family gatherings.” She sighed. “Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could get Todd back and Molly and Bill got married?”

“Married?” Rebecca thought. “Do you think Molly loves Bill?”

“Oh yes.”

Rebecca looked at her mother sharply. “You said when Molly gave birth to Todd and she was under the anesthesia she said Todd's father belonged to someone else. Bill was married to that clotheshorse masquerading as a woman then.”

“Until Bill proved she'd been seeing another man for months.”

“Don't change the subject. What about Bill? Was he in love with Molly then? Could
he
be Todd's father?”

Suzanne looked at her openly. “I've thought about it, Rebecca, but I honestly don't know.”

The rest of the day went smoothly. Suzanne withdrew the money and afterward insisted they stop at a nice restaurant for lunch.

“Mother, are you sure you want to go in a restaurant? Do you know how much cash you have in your tote bag?” Rebecca asked.

“Certainly enough to cover lunch,” Suzanne replied airily. “And I have a craving for lobster salad and a nice white wine. One glass. I promise.” She looked at Rebecca and smiled. “Please, dear, one mother-daughter lunch when things are going so well. It would mean so much to me.”

So they lunched. Then Rebecca acquiesced to Suzanne's request and went five miles over the speed limit all the way to Sinclair. They sang along to Carly Simon CDs and arrived home at three sharp. Frank was watching a soap opera, which he hastily turned off as soon as they arrived.
Sean sat in the kitchen, waiting for Rebecca. And for Walt.

At five-thirty the phone rang. Rebecca answered. It was Doug. “I fell down the basement stairs and sprained my ankle. I can't go with you tonight.”

Rebecca sat silent for a moment. “You did
what?”

“Sprained my ankle. It was so dumb. There was something wrong with the water heater and I went tearing down and missed the last five steps. I'm really sorry.”

He did not sound sorry. He sounded ashamed. “Have you been to the hospital for X-rays?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then how do you know your ankle isn't broken?”

“Oh, I'm sure it isn't. Just hurts like the devil. I've taken plenty of aspirin.”

“If you can't go, you can't go,” Rebecca said stonily. “I hope you feel better.”

“Rebecca, I'm really sorry—”

She hung up.

Rebecca leaned back in her chair and covered her eyes. Now what was this all about? Certainly Doug wasn't so spineless that he'd back out simply because Lynn didn't want him to go. He cared for Todd. She knew he did. But she didn't believe Doug's story. He just didn't want to go.

So she would go by herself. What was the alternative? Frank was in no shape. Bill couldn't go, couldn't even
know
what was happening. But the money was to be left in the trash can of the men's rest room. Maybe she could wear a cap and slip in unnoticed. Yes, that could be managed easily. But surveillance? The family didn't want cops patrolling the park, but they had hoped to get a glimpse of whoever went into the rest room. The kidnapper would obviously be watching. He couldn't see her go in, leave the money, then hang around, keeping an eye on the rest room. He'd know he was being watched. No, the rest room had to be watched by a second person.

After ten minutes, Rebecca called the hospital and asked to speak to Clay. He had to call back, but when he did, he
sounded as if he already knew something was wrong. “What is it?” he asked urgently.

“Doug called. He said he sprained his ankle. He's not coming tonight.”

“Not coming? What the hell? Rebecca, we've had a light day. He hasn't been in for an X-ray, bandaging, painkillers…”

“I know. He said he was sure he didn't need to come to the hospital. He's just not able to come with me tonight.”

“With
you.
You didn't tell me you were going.”

“Molly asked me to. Begged me to, really. I can go alone—”

“No, you can't. I'm supposed to be on duty, but I can get off. I'm going. But you're not.”

“lam.”

“You're not.”

Rebecca huffed. “Clay, we need two people there as lookouts. That park is eight acres.”

“Two people can't cover eight acres.”

“Two people can cover a half-acre around the men's rest room. I'm not arguing about this. I'm going. Are you?”

“God, you're stubborn! What time should I pick you up?”

Rebecca couldn't help smiling. “This isn't a date. It's a top-secret mission, remember? How about I meet you at…”

After a pause Clay asked, “Am I supposed to guess?”

“I'm thinking. We shouldn't enter the park together. We'll look suspicious if either of us is recognized. I'll meet you two blocks away from the park, in Dormaine's parking lot at eight-fifty. I'll give you the money there. You walk on to the park and put the money in the trash can in the men's rest room. I'll follow about fifteen minutes later. We'll stay close, but not team up. How does that sound?”

“Like you're with the CIA. But good except for you walking two blocks in the dark to the park. I can't let you do that.”

Rebecca closed her eyes in exasperation. “Am I supposed
to station myself right outside the park in my mother's flaming red Thunderbird with the vanity plates, or would it be better to take Frank's silver Mercedes S600?”

“How about Betty's car? It's nondescript.” Rebecca was silent. “I insist.”

“Doctors are
so
bossy. All right. I'll make up some excuse to borrow her car.”

“Good. See you tonight at eight-fifty.”

“Right. And Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Stargazer. Ten-four over and out.” He hung up and in spite of the whole mess, Rebecca grinned.

FRIDAY
, 8:50
P.M.

“Is that you?” Clay asked.

Rebecca took off her baseball cap. “Hides the hair, hides the bandages on my forehead. Apparently a pretty good disguise.”

“Complete with your glasses. Love the tattered jeans. And isn't it kind of warm for a long-sleeved shirt?”

“The jeans weren't tattered until an hour ago when I took Betty's shears to them. The shirt sleeves cover the bandages on my wrists.”

“I hope you have bug spray on your face. The mosquitoes are wicked.”

“Sean fell in love with the scent. I'm thinking of substituting it for Chanel No. 5.”

They stood in Dormaine's parking lot, Clay beside his small white compact, Rebecca beside Betty's behemoth of a Dodge. She hadn't been able to think of an excuse for borrowing the car from Betty. She'd just taken the extra set of keys off the Peg-Board in the kitchen and driven away.

She removed a paper bag from her white tote bag: “Here's the money.”

Clay took it gingerly. “My God. I don't even want to think about how much is in here. And I'm going to stick it in a trash can. I'll throw a few wadded paper towels on it. And I'll act casual. No darting in and out. No furtive looks. Cool is the word. How's my outfit?”

“Stylin', dude. We look like twins with our caps.”

Clay smiled. “Even with caps, we don't look like twins. You're still all girl.”

“You never quit teasing, do you? Even at a time like this.”

“Hey, I'm trying not to let nerves get the best of me. Believe it or not, this is my first ransom drop. But I meant what I said about you being all girl.”

“In spite of all my stitches?”

Abruptly Clay pulled her into his arms. His kiss was quick, insistent, hot, and temporarily made her forget murder and ransom drops and everything except the sunny smell of his skin and the tender stroke of his tongue on her lower lip. “See you later, gorgeous,” he said before just as abruptly letting go of her and turning away. She nearly fell down.

“Wow,” she muttered to herself like a fourteen-year-old as she watched him loping across the parking lot of Dormaine's, heading for the street. “Clay Bellamy, what have I been missing all these years?” She glanced at her watch. “And what will. I miss if I don't stop acting like a lovelorn adolescent and get back to work?”

In ten minutes Rebecca found a parking place near the park. It was a lovely night and a crowd had turned out for the concert. She didn't know if this was good or bad in the kidnapper's eyes. Her parallel parking was always bad, but Betty's huge-car made it nearly impossible. She seesawed back and forth, cursing, until she finally gave up in frustration. When she emerged from the car, she saw that it was a foot from the curb. She'd probably have a ticket when she returned, but the street was wide. She wouldn't
be blocking traffic and she couldn't spend all night trying to park. It was nine-fifteen.