“Of course no one in the family is involved,” he said. “The polygraph is a routine procedure. The FBI also has a mapping tool for sex offenders.”
“Oh, God,” she said. “They think Ethan was abducted by a sex offender?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “Not necessarily. That’s just another angle they’re pursuing.”
“Did he tell you anything else?” she asked.
“He didn’t, but one of the detectives informed me they brought in bloodhounds last night and searched the entire carnival area. They got his scent from his New York Mets baseball cap.” He stopped, as though realizing this was his grandson he was talking about. He cleared his throat and continued. “Behind the fun house was a dumpster the dogs were interested in.”
The sun pierced her eyes, sending sharp pains to the back of her head. “What did they find?”
“A paper napkin,” he said. “They’re analyzing it for prints.”
“It could have been something he used while he was with Mama.”
“Yes.”
Or it could have the kidnapper’s prints.
She stared at the fountain, the water barely dribbling into a basin that was green with algae.
“Then they took the dogs outside the carnival area to search for his scent,” her father continued. “But other than in the parking lot, the dogs didn’t pick up anything beyond the carnival grounds.”
Aubrey considered this. “So it’s unlikely Ethan wandered off by himself.”
Her father nodded.
The significance of this hit her. The possibility that this was all a false alarm and that Ethan would miraculously appear, safe and sound, was now gone.
She didn’t want to say it aloud, but she knew that denying the facts could hurt rather than help Ethan. “And since Ethan didn’t simply vanish, someone must have picked him up and taken him away, probably in a car.”
“That’s what they’re thinking,” he said.
Her mother shouldn’t be alone.
“I have to find Mama.” She stood up and started back toward the house.
“She was negligent, you know.”
The hardness in his voice stopped her. Aubrey turned to face him, anger warming her cheeks. “No, she wasn’t. She lost him in the fun house. It could have happened to any parent or grandparent.”
“That doesn’t excuse her.”
“Maybe not completely, but what happened wasn’t her fault.”
“You sound just like her defense attorneys.”
She clenched her jaw and thought about the malpractice lawsuit and trial that had consumed her mother for much of the last two years. No doubt her father had read the transcript.
“And her lawyers were right,” she said. “It wasn’t Mama’s fault. The little boy fell off the monkey bars. There was no indication of a brain hemorrhage when she examined him. The expert testimony confirmed she had been as thorough as any other physician would have been.”
“Nonetheless, a little boy died. If your mother had taken a few more precautions, maybe that child would still be alive.”
The unspoken words hung between them. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t have gone missing.
“You’re using hindsight,” Aubrey said. “And why are you being such a bastard and bringing it up now? Why are you hitting Mama while she’s down?”
“My grandson is missing.”
“Yes. And Ethan’s her grandson, too. She loves him, too. We all love him. But instead of being supportive, you attack her.” She was breathing hard. “What’s wrong with you? You used to be loving and caring, but I don’t know you anymore. I haven’t recognized you in eight years.”
“When are you going to stop defending her?” he asked.
“When are you going to stop blaming her?”
And she stormed away, through the thick grass, out of the sharp sun, and back into the shadows, more determined than ever to get to her mother’s side.
CHAPTER 5
She deserved to be blamed. A grandmother who’d lost her own grandchild. But would blaming herself bring Ethan home safely?
Diana was shaken as she stepped outside her small home office where the FBI was conducting interviews with the family members. The agent’s questions had felt like personal attacks, opening old wounds and reminding her how tenuous her hold on happiness was. Questions about her relationship with Kevin and his family, with her ex-husband, and about her recent engagement to Jonathan Woodward and his possible Supreme Court nomination. Then more questions about the Coles and the malpractice lawsuit.
She had answered as honestly and completely as she could, understanding that someone in her life—or something she may have done to someone—could be behind Ethan’s kidnapping. But she’d felt the implied blame behind the agent’s questions and wondered, How far back would the FBI dig to try to find a motive?
She wandered through the downstairs rooms, a stranger in her own home. And so completely alone.
Had Aubrey arrived?
She wanted very much to see her daughter, but also felt guilty about putting her through this, too.
She glanced into the family room at the makeshift command post. There was no sign of the detectives who’d been keeping her informed about their progress. The FBI was monitoring her cell-phone and e-mail activity, as well as those of Kevin, Kim, and Kim’s parents. She wondered whether anyone had received a ransom demand. That was looking like their best hope—that Ethan had been taken for money. And the Simmers were the likely target because of their wealth and public visibility.
Of course, that was no excuse for losing him, in their eyes or in hers.
In the kitchen, the coffeemaker was on, the coffee burned down to the dregs. She turned the machine off. Plastic cups and Styrofoam containers with sandwich crusts and uneaten salad had been abandoned on the scratched wood countertops. She gathered them up and dumped them in the garbage beneath the sink. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten, but she had no appetite.