The Cruel Ever After (30 page)

“There’s the last food group,” said Cordelia. “Caffeine.”

Again the closet door was open and empty.

“He stays here occasionally,” said Jane, “but you could hardly say he lives here.”

She led the way up the stairs to the second floor. Rounding the top of the steps, she walked into a large finished space with a deeply slanted ceiling, one that rose to a peak in the center of the room. The walls were wallpapered with tiny yellow and purple violets on a cream-colored background.

“Doesn’t look promising,” said Cordelia, creeping in behind her.

Jane felt flattened. Ever since she’d learned about Smith earlier in the day, she’d been so amped up she could hardly sit still. She’d been sure they were going to find the little girl.

“Hey, here’s another closet,” said Cordelia. “A big one.”

Jane held her breath and pointed the flashlight at the sliding door as Cordelia drew it back.

“Empty as a piggy bank with a hole in it,” she said, stepping inside and looking around.

For the next few minutes, they drifted through the room, tapping the walls.

“There could be a secret panel,” said Cordelia.

They inspected every imperfection in the wall but once again found nothing.

“Where do you suppose that little door leads?” asked Cordelia, nodding to one next to a couple of windows. “Lilliput?”

“Has to open onto the flat roof above the sunroom.” Jane recalled seeing it from the front yard.

“I’m glad we didn’t say anything to Sigrid and Peter,” muttered Cordelia.

Jane felt a sick swirl inside her stomach.

“Then again, you can’t say we didn’t try.”

Hearing an engine and seeing a burst of brightness outside three small windows facing the backyard, both Jane and Cordelia rushed over to get a look.

“He’s back,” said Jane.

“Yikes! We gotta get out of here.”

Smith was already out of his truck and making his way up the back walk.

“We’ll never make it to the front door in time,” said Jane.

“We need another Plan B.”

“I don’t have one.”

The back door opened.

Jane rushed to the small door, flipped back the lock, ducked, and pushed out onto the roof. Cordelia became wedged when she tried to move through the small opening. She held out a hand for Jane to help yank her through.

When they were finally outside, Jane stepped carefully over to the edge of the sunroom roof. “We’ve got to jump.”

“In the dark? Are you crazy?”

“It’s only one story. If we can manage to hoist ourselves over the side and hang on for a few seconds, the drop should only be five feet or so. Piece of cake.”

Jane began to lower herself over the side. When Cordelia hesitated, she whispered, “It’s either this or we try to explain to Mr. Smith what we’re doing in his house.”

“I’ll take my chances with Mr. Smith.”

“Really? We’ve illegally entered the home of a man who is mostly likely entirely innocent. We can’t tell the police why we did what we did because Sigrid said no cops. You really want to stick around and try to talk your way out of that?” Jane dangled from the roof and then dropped into a bed of juniper bushes. Disentangling herself, she brushed off her pants and then repositioned her cap. “Come on.”

“I am
not
a Navy SEAL.”

“I never said you were.”

Gingerly, she dropped one leg over the side.

“That’s right. Good job.”

She hoisted the other leg over and sat for a few seconds on the edge.

“The jump wasn’t bad. There are some bushes right underneath you. Do it slow and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m
not
a baby. I am Humpty Dumpty about to have a great fall.”

“Cordelia!”

She turned around and, inching downward, her feet trying to find purchase on the wood siding, attempted to swing away from the wall.

“No, no. Just drop straight down.”

Pushing off, she fell to the grass like a sack of bricks.

“Oh Lord,” she groaned, doubling over, grabbing her ankle.

Jane bent down to take a look. “Think you sprained it?”

“I’ll never walk again.”

“You have to.” With both hands, she tugged her up. “Lean on me. I’ll get you back to the car.”

“What if Smith is watching from one of the windows?”

“Then we’re toast. Just hang on and take it slow.”

“It’s ballooning, Janey. Even in the dark, it looks like I have a grapefruit attached to my ankle.”

“We’ll put some ice on it.”

“Ice? You think ice will help when all the king’s horses and all the king’s men—”

“Quiet down. We’re almost home free.”

35

Jane’s eyes panned across the waiting room at the front of the Hennepin County Public Safety Facility, otherwise known as the downtown Minneapolis jail. She was waiting for Chess to come out. She’d done all the paperwork, handed over the check, but for some reason it was taking longer for him to be released than she’d expected. She was about to ask the cop behind the reception desk what was going on when she saw Chess come through a door. The smile of relief on his face was a sharp contrast to the frown on her own. She watched him rush forward, as if he intended to hug her.

Backing away, she said, “Where are we going?”

He seemed miffed. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

“No, now.”

He looked around him. Speaking more softly, he said, “The River Bay Marina south of Hastings. You know where it is?”

“On the Mississippi? Why a marina?”

“Irina’s mother has a houseboat. That’s where it’s moored.”

She stared hard into his eyes. “If you’re lying to me—”

“If you spend all your time second-guessing me, we’re never going to get anywhere.”

They trotted down the outside steps and headed for Jane’s car.

“Did you call Irina? She’s expecting us? She’s got the statue?”

“Everything’s set.”

“You said she expects you to double-cross me. What’s that mean?”

“She wants to leave you tied up on the boat. Once we’re well out of town, we would call someone and tell them where we left you.”

Jane hadn’t told a soul about getting Chess out of jail. After what happened last night, she didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes about finding Mia—not even Cordelia’s. She stopped before she unlocked the car door. Now that he was out, the power balance had shifted in his favor. She felt a wave of helplessness break over her. She was being asked to trust a man who lied as easily as he breathed. “If you screw this up, if you don’t keep your word—”

“I said I’d get the bull for you, and I will—but you’ve got to promise me something in return. You have to let Irina and me go. I told you she rented a car. What you don’t know is that she has a baby. A little boy named Dustin.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“She’s been acting strangely. It’s got to be all the stress she’s been under. Her mom’s death. The breakup of her marriage. I’m worried about the kid. I don’t think she’s caring for him the way she should be. I know you don’t think I have a conscience, but I do. I feel like I owe her for seeing me through this mess—the same way I owe you. If Irina and I and the baby all disappear, it will mean that you’ll forfeit the hundred thousand you just paid the county treasurer, but I figure it’s a small price to pay for getting your niece back, right? And I’ll be gone from your life forever.”

“Like you were last time?”

“You’re worried about the divorce. I don’t want anything of yours. Honestly.”

“Just the hundred thousand.”

“Yeah, just that. Come on, Jane. We’re wasting time.”

She was on her own this time. No Nolan with his gun and his years of experience. No Cordelia cracking jokes to relieve the pressure. Just Jane, with the instincts Nolan found so impressive. Crazy as it sounded, her instincts told her she could trust Chess this time. Her brain told her she didn’t have a choice.

*   *   *

Chess was a convincing talker, a good salesman. Still, it took every ounce of the persuasion he could muster to get Jane to stay on the pier while he went in to talk to Irina. As he stepped onto the open aft portion of the houseboat, he could see Jane about twenty yards away, sitting on a bench overlooking the river. The clouds were a few shades lighter than the water, with the blue-green trees at the horizon line breaking up the unremitting gray. Jane had on a pair of sunglasses, which hid the strain in her eyes. It hardly mattered. He knew it was there.

Angry as he was at her for the way she’d treated him, he couldn’t let her down. Not this time. As far as he was concerned, he was done with his precious Winged Bull of Nimrud. He might have owned it, even loved it, now and in an earlier life, but in this one, hanging on to it would be nothing short of a death sentence. He wanted out—out of jail, out of the Twin Cities, and out of the country. What he’d told Jane was true. He was worried about Dustin. It was more than that, though. Much to his continuing amazement, he was concerned for Irina, too. Maybe he felt sorry for her. That was more palatable than thinking that he cared for her.

He knocked on the door. Irina appeared a few seconds later, all smiles and eagerness, but then her face turned wary.

“Take off your clothes,” she ordered, looking as if she weren’t quite sure she wanted to let him come aboard. “We’ll toss them in the garbage. I bought you new socks, underwear, slacks, and a shirt. We can buy more when we’re on the road. You have to shower right away. I’ve scrubbed the entire boat.”

“Irina, no.” She retreated to the center of the room as he pushed inside. “I’m not going to shower.”

“But Dustin—”

“He’ll be fine. I won’t hurt him, you must know that.”

Her eyes softened.

“Where’s the bull?”

“It’s here.”

He looked around the salon. It was one of the nicer houseboats he’d been on. He could smell coffee, but the smell was mixed with pine cleaner. It turned his stomach. “Show me,” he said.

“First things first.”

“Irina—”

“At least take off your shoes.”

He gave a frustrated sigh as he kicked them off.

“Now the sport coat.”

“I need to see the bull.”

“Please. Just that. And go back to the kitchen and wash your hands and face.”

He charged past her and did as she asked. Before he turned around, he opened the refrigerator and grabbed himself a beer. Twisting off the cap, he took a couple of thirsty swallows.

“Follow me upstairs,” said Irina.

“Why?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” She gave him an impish smile.

The only other person on the boat was Dustin. Why make such a big deal out of meeting him? Especially now.

Standing in front of a closed door on the upper story, Irina turned around and took his hand in hers. She seemed both solemn, and bursting with excitement.

“You know that Dusty is a special little boy.”

“Of course he is.”

“But do you know why?”

If he played along with this for a few minutes, then he could demand that they get down to business. “I don’t.”

“Do the math,” she said, pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling.

“Math?”

“I told you that he was born four weeks premature. That was late April. Count back eight months and what do you have?”

“Please don’t make me play games.”

She looked crestfallen.

He closed his eyes, did the mental calculation. “August.”

“He was conceived during the week I spent with you in Istanbul.”

He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or take her seriously. “You’re saying I’m his father?”

“You have a beautiful little son, Chess. Now that you know who he is, I want you to meet him. I’ve been looking forward to this day since I found out I was pregnant.”

“What about your husband?”

“What about him?”

“I thought Dusty was his child.”

“He doesn’t look a thing like him.”

“That’s your proof? The way he
looks
?”

“Here, put this mask on.” She handed him one and then put one on herself. “Come on,” she said, opening the door to the master cabin and tugging him inside.

The smell of bleach was even stronger up here.

Irina walked over to a chair, where a child’s car seat sat facing sliding glass doors that led out to the foredeck. “Come meet him,” she said, holding out her hand. “See who you think he looks like.”

He slipped the mask on as he walked over to the chair. The sight that met his eyes took a few moments to fully register.

“Isn’t he beautiful?”

“
This
is Dusty?”

“Our little baby. He has your brown eyes. Every time I look at him, I see you.”

“Irina—” He swallowed, looked up.

“Our precious little boy.”

“It’s … a teddy bear.”

“I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that. It’s incredibly mean and I won’t allow it.”

It wasn’t just any teddy bear. This one had on a diaper and was caked with layers of white baby powder. But what really made the hairs at the back of Chess’s neck stand up straight was that the fur had been scrubbed off in patches. The bear looked diseased.

“He’s sleeping now, but when he wakes up, you can see what a wonderful smile he has.”

Whatever part of his brain was supposed to rise to the occasion and figure out something to say had been stunned into silence.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

He pulled off his mask, let it dangle from his hand. “Honey … sweetheart, we need to talk.”

“I can see what you’re thinking. You’re just like everyone else. I thought you’d be different, but obviously I was wrong. You don’t understand what it’s like to have a child with a compromised immune system. I have to keep his environment immaculate. When I try to scrub him off after he’s been playing, sometimes he cries and fights me. I hate it. But I
have
to keep him clean. A mother knows what’s best.”

“Sure she does. I completely agree.”

“There are people in my life who think I’ve gone off the deep end with all this concern over germs.”

“You’re a wonderful mother. Dedicated. Self-sacrificing. Anyone can see that.”