Kidnapped ik-10 Page 26

  Putting all her gear on the bike had been problematic, but the owner of the motorcycle had bungee cords on his workbench, and after she changed into her warmest clothes, the bags were less bulky.

  The motorcycle owner’s head was a little bigger than hers, so she had to stuff one of her shirts into the helmet to serve as a liner. It looked weird, but no one would see it, because she would keep the face shield on.

  She carefully closed the garage door and rode back toward the place where she had abandoned the Honda.

  She was careful not to go too near it, but one advantage of wide-open spaces was that you could see a fuss being made from a distance, and clearly, law enforcement and media were already on the scene. She called Irene Kelly a fucking idiot, too.

  She cut across an empty dirt road, then made her way to Big Pines Highway. The road twisted and climbed into the San Gabriel Mountains. Soon she was riding through Angeles National Forest. Earlier in the week, what had fallen as rain in Las Piernas arrived here as soft spring snow, although the low, plowed heaps along the roadside were already slushy. So far, the road remained clear, but wet with runoff. There was some traffic, but not enough to be irritating.

  SHE kept herself going through the earliest part of the process of escaping the desert through sheer will. For a time, the mountain road required all her concentration. Eventually, though, her thoughts turned to that horrible set of moments in the desert, when she thought she might die.

  Until today, she had been in control in every situation. Her careful planning, her preparations, her training were all aimed toward minimizing variables that could result in her death or arrest.

  If today had gone as she had planned it, Roy would have made sure that Victoria’s drink was drugged, turned off the alarm, and taken all four children with him. How hard was it for him to count to four?

  Even if Bonnie had refused the drink, Cleo could have taken her out. Having that stupid ass Giles along would have made it a little more difficult, but not impossible.

  So what happens? Roy fucks up all but one of his assignments, and even so, things still might have been okay if Giles would have stayed calm and simply gone outside and met Carrie and told that reporter tough shit, he’s her uncle, no interviews, and good-bye. Instead, the dipshit packs a goddamned newspaper reporter into the van! Gives her directions to where Cleo is waiting with a dead body!

  And worst of all, the idiot says her name in front of the reporter. Cleo had thought quickly then, realizing that he’d just freak out and tell the woman God knows what if Cleo didn’t calm him down as fast as possible. So she had lied and said he was great and did all the usual stroking of his ego that he required. And decided, as she hung up, that she’d had just about enough of Giles.

  Her mistake had been in not shooting the reporter right off the bat. She saw that now. She had let her anger toward Giles get in the way of accomplishing her goals. At the very least, she should have taken the keys away from that bitch. Instead: amateur hour.

  The killing of Giles had been nice and clean, and she had expected that the reporter and Carrie would be grateful for the rescue. Instead, the crazy bitch had driven off. And then, then — Cleo still couldn’t believe it — then the bitch had turned around and tried to kill her!

  No one had ever tried to kill Cleo. It had made her go cold all the way through. It gave her a kind of sick and wobbly feeling that threw her aim off. The thought of someone else feeling that way was one thing, but she was not supposed to be in that situation herself.

  And the look on that woman’s face! She had to stop thinking about it, she decided. It was too, too upsetting.

  SHE didn’t dare stop to rest. She didn’t want any clerks or waitresses to have a reason to say where they had seen a woman matching her description.

  THE sun was going down by the time she finished hiding the motorcycle. She hiked up the slope that led to her cabin, carrying her bags.

  Roy was sitting at the kitchen table with the kids when she came in. There was a look of surprise on every face when she opened the door, then she saw Roy look anxiously beyond her.

  “Carrie’s not with me,” she said. Then, seeing the look on the faces of the kids, she quickly added, “She decided to stay with Grandfather Fletcher.”

  The kids were immediately relieved, but Roy still looked worried. One of the kids, the girl, said, “Can we all go to Grandfather Fletcher’s house?”

  “No,” Roy said. “No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

  They were all too well-disciplined to question his authority, but Cleo could see that this decision didn’t meet with their approval.

  “Where’s Mommy?” the youngest boy asked.

  “She decided to stay with your grandfather, too,” Cleo said, “so she asked me to come up here and take care of you and your dad.”

  That resulted in puzzlement, but no rebellion.

  “Who are you?” asked the older boy.

  “She’s your cousin Cleo,” Roy said, before she could warn him not to give them her name. Well, what difference did it make, now that Giles had made a gift of it to that reporter? Now that a reporter could describe her to the police, to the world? It occurred to her that her whole life would have to change.

  Fine, she thought, but she would make that reporter pay for all the inconvenience she was causing.

  CHAPTER 48

  Tuesday, May 2

  12:35 P.M. PDT

  UNITED FLIGHT 0914

  DEXTER FLETCHER thanked the first-class-cabin flight attendant as he accepted the glass of wine. The flight attendant lingered for a while, saw that he wasn’t in the mood to converse, and withdrew. He made sure she didn’t feel slighted, that she believed he was merely tired. He was an expert in the fine art of making a woman feel that, if at all possible, he would give her all his attention.

  He often took this nonstop to Paris, and therefore made no effort to travel under an assumed name. That would change once he was on the ground, but for now he answered to Mr. Fletcher, as always.

  Once he was sure he would not be disturbed for a while, he picked up his copy of the Las Piernas News Express and read the article once again. He closed his eyes and imagined all the ways things could go wrong with Giles’s plans. Almost too many to imagine.

  He had known there would be trouble once the story was published. Knowing Giles was about to make it worse, he decided it was time to go.

  He had managed to get an early copy of the Express every morning through an arrangement he made with a nephew who had a job delivering the paper. That was why, at four this morning, Dex had been on his way to LAX. By six, his flight was in the air.

  Conceivably, if Giles really screwed up, someone in law enforcement might greet him when he arrived in Paris tomorrow morning at half-past seven. It would be — he looked at his watch and calculated quickly — ten-thirty at night, still Tuesday, in Las Piernas.

  Possible, he decided. Unlikely, but possible. Still, smarter to leave now and discover everything was fine at home, that Giles’s plan had worked, than to regret staying.

  He had called Nelson just before he left. He’d always had a soft spot for poor Nelson.

  Rich Nelson, most people would say. Nelson was successful. Nelson was brilliant in his line of work, but he had always relied on Dexter to keep him clued in about other people, to take care of him and protect him from those who wanted to take advantage of him. He paid Dexter handsomely to deal with legal matters, but Dexter believed the most valuable advice he gave his brother had little to do with the law.

  He sighed, thinking of Nelson. He had done what he could for him. Now he had to try to save his own neck.

  He had been planning for this day for a number of years now. He had always provided a number of safe houses for Cleo, with the understanding that the day might come when he would make use of any he chose.

  More than anyone currently in her life, Dex thought, he knew her.

  Dex adjusted his seat into a bed so that he
could sleep comfortably cocooned for a few hours.

  He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Cleo was a resourceful little devil, and she’d never trust Giles completely. With any luck, he had just wasted the price of a one-way ticket to France.

  His eyes opened. Would he return to the family if he could? The idea of leaving it had once been unthinkable. Now… now there were all sorts of possibilities.

  He closed his eyes again and slept soundly.

  THE flight attendant, passing by a little later, removed the empty wineglass. Dex Fletcher was always a pleasure to serve, not fussy or demanding, always remembered not just your name but if you had kids, and asked after them. Took an interest in people, unlike a lot of the jerks you got in first class. What a lucky woman his wife was. Looking down at his handsome face, somehow even more attractive in repose, she turned off the reading light he’d left on. The newspaper, she left — trying to take it from him would probably wake him up. Poor guy. Earlier, when they were talking, she’d had the feeling he was tired.

  CHAPTER 49

  Tuesday, May 2

  12:35 P.M.

  LATITUDE 33°10'0''

  LONGITUDE 118°11'15''

  NELSON FLETCHER stood on the deck of the trawler formerly known as the Elisa and gazed out at a beautiful day, which, as it so happened, was also the most miserable of his life.

  From here, looking off the stern, he could see Santa Catalina Island behind him. San Clemente Island lay ahead to starboard, the coast of northern San Diego County to port.

  Dexter had called him at five this morning. Nelson had pretended it was a business call. Pretended he was being called out of town for a few days. By the time he dressed, his wife, Elisa, had fallen back to sleep. Her skin was soft and warm when he kissed her good-bye, half-waking her.

  He nearly screwed it all up then and there, because he almost broke down and held her close, almost made too big a deal out of leaving.

  Then he thought about how much she was going to hate him by the end of the day, and held himself in check.

  Dexter had warned him almost a week ago that Giles was up to something that was going to cause too much trouble for everyone. He had finally given in then and arranged for the trawler to be surreptitiously renamed and docked elsewhere. It would need to be painted later.

  When Nelson first became involved in Giles’s plans, almost seven years ago, Dexter had taken him aside and talked to him about the importance of having a plan to leave the country.

  No use thinking of going back in time, he told himself. No use thinking of what he would have done differently. Shame, guilt, regret — they were constant companions now. And yet…

  And yet he had married Elisa. Without Giles’s plan, would that have come about? No.

  They might have married once, long ago. He met her, and dated her, and was crazy about her from the start. He was awkward around Mason, who was never impressed by anything Nelson tried to do to win him over.

  Whatever mistakes he made with Mason were nothing compared to his biggest blunder: He introduced Elisa to his charming brother Richard.

  Richard and Elisa had forgotten everyone else from the moment they were introduced. Oh, at some point Richard asked him if he would mind… if he would mind! But Nelson had been hurt by what seemed to him a double betrayal, and his pride had been injured. Richard and Elisa had been blissfully unaware of how much it cost him to keep up his act of nonchalance.

  Giles had seen it. Dexter and Roy, too. They saw that over the years, the pain of it ate at him.

  He worked hard to stay in Richard and Elisa’s lives, just so he could be around her, help her. They maintained contact with him and no other member of the family.

  Nearly fifteen years passed in this way. He kept waiting for some other woman to draw his eye. For his desire for her to lessen. But no one else could ever appeal to him.

  He told people he was married to his work. In some ways, that was true. He was sure that with the exception of Giles, Dex, and Roy, he had succeeded in deceiving everyone.

  Then one day Richard put an end to that delusion.

  “Of all my brothers,” Richard said, “you’re the one who has always been the kindest to me. That makes this especially difficult, because I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t see any way around it. You’ll have to spend less time with my family, Nelson.”

  “What do you mean?” Nelson asked in disbelief.

  “I’m sorry. I know this hurts you. But even Mason has noticed that you’re still…” He seemed to search for a word. “You’re still enamored of Elisa.”

  “Mason! He doesn’t show either of you an ounce of respect. The things you let him say to Elisa! He makes her so unhappy—”

  “It won’t work, Nelson. This time you won’t sidetrack me, especially not by complaining about Mason. Mason’s fine. He’ll outgrow all this rebellion. He’s bright and talented and good-hearted.” He sighed. “You see, it almost worked again. Mason’s right this time, as it turns out, and he had the guts to confront me about it. I kept hoping, kept wanting to believe you’d accept the fact that Elisa and I are happily married, but I think I’ve only done you a disservice by not facing this earlier on. It’s only a matter of time before the other children become aware of it. Caleb already has, I think, on some level. At his age, it won’t be long before he can name the reason he keeps wanting weekends with ‘just our own family.’”

  Nelson tried to protest, but Richard interrupted him and said, “Look me in the eye and tell me you aren’t in love with my wife.”

  When the silence stretched between them, Richard said, in that gentle way of his, “I think, Nelson, it will be better for all of us if you limit your visits to my home to once or twice a year. You can visit me any time at my office, but—”

  “Has Elisa asked you to say this to me?”

  “No, right now this is between the two of us,” Richard said. “Do you want me to discuss this with her?”

  “No,” he said quickly. That would have been the final mortification. “I would ask,” he added, not quite steadily, “that you never mention this to her. It would make her so… uncomfortable.”

  Richard agreed and thanked him for understanding.

  THE banishment. That’s how Nelson thought of that awful day. He acknowledged now that long before the banishment, he had been thinking that it would be convenient for Richard to die. He had not brought himself to think of murdering him. He just wanted him to have a fatal car wreck, a drowning accident, or a heart attack. Something quick.

  The banishment made it easier to listen to Giles, as he talked of bringing the best and the brightest into the family sphere of influence, of taking children — who would never be allowed to otherwise reach their full potential — away from the parents who hindered them. To think differently of Richard, think of him as hard-hearted and misguided. To believe that Giles’s plans could give Nelson what he wanted. He convinced himself that it would give Elisa a better life, too. He could love her better, give her more.

  His part, too, was so simple. Take the child, Jenny, with him. Jenny knew him, trusted him. He had already taken her to visit Roy and Victoria, and she adored Victoria’s little girl, Carrie. That day he simply did what he had done on three other mornings. Because he wasn’t coming to the house, Richard had no objection to his brief visits to the office. He had missed Nelson, he said. Jenny clearly was happy to see him. And it did make it easier for Richard to get work done if Nelson entertained Jenny.

  So when Nelson arrived that last morning and asked Jenny if she wanted to come with him, she didn’t hesitate.

  Two business clients who had been referred to him by Nelson found Richard’s body — as Nelson had known they would — so when police arrived, the clients asked the police to contact Nelson, just as Giles had predicted.

  The grisly murder scene had nearly made Nelson faint. He had not expected it to be so bloody, for Richard to be so… damaged. A single thought repeated itself over and over:


  What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?

  He had not expected this horror. He discovered that the anger he had felt toward Richard seemed petty and misplaced. He thought of the child Richard, whom he had always protected and cared for as an older brother should, and a sudden upwelling of great and genuine grief overcame him.

  IN his rosily imagined versions of how it would go, before it actually happened, he could pursue Elisa by comforting her, and go on from there. Mason, who tormented her, would be in prison, at least for a time. Jenny, adorable as she was, would have made it difficult for them to have the kind of honeymoon-forever lifestyle he envisioned. He knew Elisa would miss her child, but that child would have a wonderful upbringing, with more advantages than Richard could have provided, and other children to play with as she grew up.

  Jenny was hardly more than a toddler, and would eventually accept what she had been told — her parents were dead, Roy and Victoria were her new mommy and daddy. To Jenny, Uncle Nelson would still be Uncle Nelson — although Nelson would ensure that Elisa remained aloof from the Fletchers, and if she did have contact, she would never be at Graydon Fletcher’s home at the same time Roy’s family was there.

  Caleb would be in college. Nelson hoped to help him grow closer to the rest of the Fletcher family.

  IT hadn’t happened that way, of course.

  Oh, parts of it had. Elisa never developed any interest in the Fletchers, which was a blessing in some ways, but unsettling to him in others, because the family meant so much to him. Jenny settled in — or so it seemed to him, although guilt kept him from visiting Roy’s family very often. Still, he hadn’t counted on how long and deeply Elisa would grieve for Jenny, how persistent she would be in her belief that Jenny lived.

  Nor had he predicted how much she would miss Mason and worry over his well-being. So he did all he could for Mason after the young man was convicted. That actually helped Nelson’s pursuit of Elisa more than he could have dreamed possible.