“You may be a threat to them if you get the nomination.”
Jonathan nodded. “Of course. Baer Business Machines would be hurt by my policy on large corporate mergers.”
She stared at the three crimson paperweights on the coffee table. “But then, there’s also Larry,” she said.
“Your ex-husband? I never got the impression from you that he was vindictive or even jealous.”
“Aubrey believes he could be manipulated by his girlfriend.”
“So Aubrey knows about the note?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you haven’t been dealing with this alone,” he said. “And now you have me as well.” He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “So why do you believe Larry and his girlfriend may be involved?”
“I don’t know very much about Star, which means anything’s possible.”
“And Larry?” His face was full of concern, even though his own life was being threatened. She had to tell him.
“I’m worried this may relate to something that happened back when I was in college,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“April Fool.” She barely managed to get the words out before her throat closed up.
Even after all these years, she couldn’t talk about it, but she didn’t have to.
Jonathan’s eyes widened behind his glasses. He knew the reference to April 1, 1970, the day of the explosion. For anyone who had attended Barnard College and Columbia University back then, April Fools’ Day would never again be thought of as a day for playing silly pranks.
She waited for him to confront her, to ask what she could possibly have done more than forty-five years ago that someone would try to threaten her over today. But Jonathan finished his drink, then went to the bar to refill his glass.
He stood there looking out the sliding glass door, his face thoughtful, as though he were weighing legal arguments. And a ghost passed through her.
What if he knew?
Jonathan had been at Columbia Law at the time. He could have known people, maybe even had some personal connection to April Fool. Some hurt he had hidden from her, waiting for the right moment to mete out revenge. This entire, terrible situation might be his doing.
Was Jonathan her enemy?
No. It wasn’t possible. She would have known if he’d been deceiving her.
Besides, Jonathan would never turn on her. And setting up an ultimatum that involved his own death made no sense. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Fear for Ethan and lack of sleep were making her paranoid.
Jonathan returned to the sofa, sat beside her, and reached for her hand. “You’re still cold.” He ran his fingers against her cheek. “You know I love you very much. If there’s something in your past, I don’t care about it.”
She shivered.
He adjusted the afghan around her shoulders. “You believe me, darling, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, then quickly looked away.
CHAPTER 17
Aubrey left her mother’s car in the dark driveway near the two black sedans, then went in the front door, half expecting Smolleck to be standing in the foyer, arms folded in front of his too-stylish suit, with a “gotcha” expression on his face.
But no one was there.
She listened for sounds coming from the back of the house. No phones were ringing, but the tip calls were probably being routed to the command post the Simmers had established over at the Ritz.
It was almost nine thirty, over thirty hours since Ethan had gone missing. Thirty hours! Because of the ransom note, she believed he was alive, but that didn’t mean he was in a safe place. He was just a little boy. She hoped he wasn’t frightened.
Only a few months ago, Ethan had spent the night at her Providence apartment while Kevin and Kim attended a gala in Newport. Jackson had gone off somewhere for the night, so she and Ethan wouldn’t have to contend with a “third wheel,” or so Jackson had said. Aubrey now realized what he’d really been up to.
She and Ethan had been propped up against pillows in her bed, watching a movie about a kid who was trying to outsmart a couple of bad guys. At one point, the little boy hid in the back of his parents’ car. The bad guys looked for the boy in the car, but didn’t notice him hidden beneath a dog carrier that was wedged behind the driver’s seat.
Ethan had been delighted that the boy had outfoxed them, but later that night, he awoke from a nightmare about the movie and cried for his mother. Aubrey had comforted him, telling him the little boy was safe and that he had been very brave—just like Ethan.
Was someone comforting her nephew tonight when he cried for his mother?
She hurried upstairs. After checking and finding her mother hadn’t gotten back from Jonathan’s, she went to her own room and got out her laptop.
She had a lot to do.
There was a message and attachment from Smolleck. It had been sent to everyone in her family. Smolleck had written:
Please review the attached photos, paying particular attention to people in the background. Let me know if you recognize anyone.
So he had followed up on her suggestion. Her respect for him edged upward. She opened the attachment. There were six photos, taken at the carnival, probably with her mother’s iPhone.
Ethan, in his sky-blue T-shirt with a jumping dolphin, was in all of them.
She enlarged each photo and studied the people in the background crowds, one by one. No one familiar, but she also checked to see whether anyone happened to be looking at Ethan or otherwise appeared suspicious.
She examined the last photo, the selfie of Ethan and Mama.
A woman was standing by a booth facing the camera. She appeared to be frowning at Ethan.