Vanish (31 page)

Conner turned back to Nancy. “Who’s next?”

Nancy peered at Conner a moment. “Well, this one’s a little interesting. And a little creepy. Helen Krause, fifty, of Chicago. I, uh… I couldn’t find anything on her from the police logs, and she wasn’t in any of the local hospitals. I did manage to locate her apartment, though.…”

“And?”

“I contacted her building management and told them I was worried that something might have happened to her.”

“Did they get into her apartment?”

Nancy nodded. “Yes, Monday afternoon, and… and they found her. Her body, that is. She had apparently died sometime over the weekend.”

Conner took a breath. So she
was
dead. Howard hadn’t lied about that. “What did they find out?”

Nancy cleared her throat. “Well—now I had to call in several favors with my contacts at the police, so you’re going to owe me big-time for this.”

“Fine. What did you find out?”

“Ms. Krause had apparently committed suicide.”

Conner furrowed his brow. “Suicide? Helen?”

Nancy shrugged. “That’s how they’re classifying it.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Apparently they found her on the balcony. She had several prescriptions she had been taking for depression and so on. They found an empty bottle on the dining room table.”

Conner’s frown deepened. “But… she didn’t strike me as…”

“That’s where it gets a little weird. She appeared to have had a guest over that night for dinner. Friday night. Which also happened to be her birthday. They found a ‘Happy Birthday’ sign taped on the wall, and she had stopped on the way home to pick up a cake and a couple Chinese dinners.”

Conner nodded. “Her son. She said she had… that she was
going
to have dinner with her son, Kyle.”

Nancy’s lips tightened. “Yes, her son…”

“Yeah, I thought something may have happened to him as well.” Conner leaned forward. “What’s the matter? Did they find him?”

“Well…” Nancy bit her lip. “Not exactly.”

“What is it?”

Nancy took a breath. “I managed to locate a business associate of hers. Her agent—” she glanced at her notes—“Rex VanKammen. I think I better let him tell you.”

Conner raised his eyebrows. “He’s here?”

“I asked him to wait outside for a minute. I didn’t know if you felt like having company.”

“Well, don’t just sit there; bring him in.”

Nancy sighed and went to the door. “Would you please come in?”

Rex was a thin man. Conner figured him to be in his early sixties. Thinning, gray hair was cut short and spiked. He wore jeans and a sports jacket over a black silk shirt. He shook hands and stood looking a little uncomfortable.

Marta moved her chair over for him.

Rex sat down and shifted in the seat. “Uh… Mr. Hayden, I was just wondering how it was that you came to know Helen? You see, I knew Helen her entire career. In fact, we had just got together last Friday and… well… no offense, but she never mentioned you.”

“Ahh.” Conner nodded. “Yes… well, I only met her recently. Umm, just last week, and it was regarding a case I was working on, so unfortunately, I’m not able to go into great detail.”

“Oh.” Rex nodded. “Oh, well, I see.”

“Can you help me find Kyle? I was worried something may have happened to him.”

Rex just gave Conner a strange look.

Conner frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Rex cleared his throat. “I’m afraid there
is
no Kyle Krause.”

Conner blinked. He tried to process what the guy was saying. “Excuse me?”

Rex drummed his fingers on the armrest. “How can I put this?” He scratched his head. “Kyle was… a figment of Helen’s imagination.”

Conner shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Rex leaned forward. He seemed very uncomfortable. “Helen never had any children. And her closest relative is a sister somewhere out west. South Dakota or someplace.”

Conner just stared at him. “Montana.”

Rex nodded. “Well… I knew Helen when she first started in the modeling business. And she was tops. I mean she had a great look, y’know; she could really find the camera. So she was very successful in her day.”

“Yes, she mentioned to me that she had done some modeling.”

“Well,” Rex went on, “a few years into her career, she met Nick Roselli. He was a photographer. And she fell for him pretty hard.”

Conner recalled that Helen had mentioned Nick on the boat. “Yeah, she said Nick was Kyle’s father.”

“Yeah.” Rex’s lips tightened for a moment. “She got pregnant. And Nick asked her to marry him, but…”

Conner frowned. “Nick
wanted
to get married?”

“Yeah, he wanted to do right by her. He didn’t want her to… y’know, have to raise the kid on her own.”

“So what happened?”

Rex’s gaze drifted down. “Helen wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready to settle down. And she
sure
wasn’t ready to have a kid.”

Conner leaned back. “I think I understand.”

Rex shook his head and sighed. “She had an abortion. And when Nick found out, he nearly hit the ceiling.”

“He left her?”

“He left her.” Rex nodded. “Poor Helen was never the same after that. I think Nick was the only man she had ever really loved.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, Helen went through some major depression after that. A year later, she started talking about her baby.”

“Her
baby
?”

Rex shrugged. “She went off the deep end a little. She went around talking about her and Nick’s little boy, Kyle. The baby she had aborted.”

Conner looked around the room. Marta and Nancy were sitting, speechless. He looked back at Rex. “So all this time, Kyle was just her own delusion?”

Rex nodded. “And she started going through men like they were candy. She dated rock stars and congressmen. The richer the better. But she never settled down. And as far as I know, she never fell in love again. I think, deep down, she was a very lonely woman.”

Conner stared out the window. He had only known her a short time. But he hadn’t really known her at all. “I think you’re right.”

“I tried to get her into therapy,” Rex said. “And for a while she was doing pretty well. But then the modeling gigs started to dry up. You know, as she got older. Then about ten years ago, she started talking about Kyle again. Kyle was graduating high school. Kyle was going to college. She had every detail of this kid in her head.”

Rex looked down. “She set up a lunch appointment with me once to discuss some business plans. So I showed up at the restaurant and found her sitting at a table for three, talking to an empty seat.” He shook his head. “I was so embarrassed for her. She was talking and laughing and carrying on a conversation with ‘Kyle.’ The whole restaurant was staring at her. So I sit down and she asks me if I know anyone in the entertainment industry that could represent him. She said he wanted to be a comedian now.” Rex rolled his eyes. “She even made me sit there and listen to part of his routine. I’m staring at an empty chair. She’s listening to some joke of his and laughing her head off. I just made an excuse to leave. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Rex sighed and rubbed his temples. “So I managed to get her back with a doctor again. And he had her on some medication. I thought these last few years she was doing better. Her consulting business was doing well. But if what you’re telling me is correct, it sounds like she had another relapse. The police called me when they found her. And then I remembered last Friday was her birthday. I was probably the one person who knew her the best. The closest thing she had to a friend. And I didn’t even remember her birthday. I was with her last Friday. We met for drinks that evening, and I had to give her some bad news. She was going for this ad gig and they… well, they wanted someone a little younger. I was probably the last person to see her alive.”

They all fell silent. After a moment, Rex stood up to leave.

Conner felt numb inside. He shook Rex’s hand. “Mr. VanKammen, thank you for sharing that with me. For what it’s worth… for my part, Helen seemed like a… like a very nice person. She seemed to be caring and genuine. And I… I’m truly sad to hear she’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Rex said. “Yeah, me too.”

Once Rex had gone, Conner lay back and breathed a deep sigh. For all her popularity in life, Helen Krause had died completely alone. He cringed inwardly at the memory of her cries, echoing through that dark forest. He would remember that sound as long as he lived.

After a moment, Nancy cleared her throat. “Well, there are a couple others you asked about. Like Mitch Kent, from North Chicago.”

Conner sat up. “Is he still alive?”

Nancy raised her eyebrows. “It depends what you consider ‘alive.’ He’s in a vegetative state, according to the doctors at Good Samaritan up in Winthrop Harbor.”

Conner frowned. “What happened to him?”

Nancy glanced back at her notes. “He was… he was in an accident. A motorcycle accident, Friday night as well. He was riding north on Sheridan when a truck crossed the center lane and struck him. Umm, a passerby stopped and called 911. He suffered from massive head injuries.”

Conner leaned forward. “Is he on life support?”

Nancy nodded. “Yes, for now. His next of kin is his father, who lives in Lake Bluff.”

“He’s not planning on disconnecting him, is he?”

“I haven’t actually discussed that with him. Do you want me to set up an appointment?”

Conner stared at her. He recalled Mitch, sitting on the sofa in Howard’s house. That was the last time he had seen him. Ray Cahill had been in a coma four days before he died and it had seemed to be weeks. What about Mitch? Was he still there? Alone in that… Interworld? It had been six days since their experience. It must feel like a couple of months had gone by for Mitch. He was there alone with Howard.

With Death himself.

Conner frowned. “What about the last one, Howard?”

Nancy nodded and flipped the page. “Right. Then there was Howard Bristol, sixty- to seventy-year-old white male, address unknown, somewhere in Indiana.” She looked over her glasses again. “I found three that matched that description.”

“Three?”

“Yep. One’s a banker in Indianapolis. Another sells insurance in Gary. But one of them…”

“What?” Conner leaned forward. “What about him?”

“One of them—a sixty-seven-year-old farmer—has been comatose in the Merrillville Hospice Center for the last eight months. Stroke victim. Apparently his wife just can’t bear to let him go.”

Conner stared at her. “Comatose?”

Nancy shook her head. “I don’t know what your fascination is with all this stuff, but to me, it’s kind of morbid.” She closed the legal pad and left it on the table next to the bed. She gathered her things and patted Conner on the head. “Now stop with all this work and relax. For goodness sake, you’ve just had surgery. Do you want to give yourself another heart attack?”

As she left, Conner leaned back and sighed.

Marta stared at him. “What was
that
all about?”

“Mmmm.” Conner rubbed his eyes. “It’s a long story.” One he wasn’t quite ready to share yet. But one thing he was sure of: his experience had been real. He could no longer ignore the God he had spent so much time hating. For God Himself had pulled him back from the brink of a terrible abyss.

Something Rachel had said earlier that week now echoed in his mind. “
He saved you for a reason, Dad
.”

And though he knew it might be a while before he ever found out what that reason was, something told him she was right.

MITCH OPENED HIS EYES. Gray light poured in through the living room window. He had spent another fitful night on the couch. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. His neck and back were stiff; his joints cracked and popped as he dragged himself off the sofa.

He stood up and stretched. Another night. He had made it through another night. He yawned and stumbled into the kitchen for some water. He poured himself a glass and downed it immediately. Then a second and third. He’d been so thirsty lately.

He leaned on the counter and hung his head for a moment. Every day it seemed harder to wake up.

There was a soft noise behind him. Mitch turned to see Howard at the table, shuffling a deck of cards. Howard glanced up and grinned. A wide, toothy grin.

“Mornin’, Hoss,” he said. “We need to make another gas run today.”

“Mmph,” Mitch grunted. “Great.”

Howard chuckled. “Well, we need to keep the lights burnin’, don’t we?”

Mitch stretched again. He went to the cupboard for some breakfast and shook his head. Nothing but more stale granola. “Can we make another grocery stop on the way back?”

“Sure thing. How about we see if we can find us some beef jerky?”

“No.” Mitch thought a moment, biting his cheek. “Slim Jims. I could go for some Slim Jims.”

Howard snapped the cards. “Slim Jims it is!”

Mitch glanced down at the table and groaned.

Howard had the cribbage board set out. He looked up with a wry grin. “Up for a game?”

Mitch felt his jaw tighten. He had taught the old man how to play but had yet to lose a game to him. The guy just didn’t seem to have any luck. Mitch glanced at the tally board on the kitchen wall. He had a streak going over the last ten weeks: 357 games to none.

“Aren’t you tired of losing?”

Howard raised his eyebrows. “Me? Naw!” He snorted. “I’m bound to win sooner or later. Just a matter of time.”

Mitch sighed and plopped down across from the old man.

Howard slid the deck to the middle of the table. “Low card deals first.”

Mitch cut an ace. As he started to shuffle, he glimpsed a faceless, gray head peeking in through the window. Then it slipped away. Mitch stared at the window for a moment.

“Uhh…” Howard tapped the table. “You gonna deal, Hoss?”

Mitch fixed his gaze back on the old man. “Are you ever gonna tell me what happened to my friends?”

Howard’s placid expression faded slightly. His eyes flitted down to the cards in Mitch’s hand. “You let me win a game… maybe I’ll tell you.”