She did a search of Columbia’s board of trustees and found that Emmet Baer, founder of BBM, had been on the board from 1965 through 1970.
Kevin once mentioned that Prudence had wanted him and Kim to name their son Emmet after her grandfather, but for once Kim had sided with Kevin, and they had agreed on Ethan. But Aubrey couldn’t imagine what Emmet Baer being on Columbia’s board might have to do with Ethan’s kidnapping.
She returned to the documentary and continued watching the jerky footage of student protestors capturing five university buildings, then barricading themselves in against the police.
Her parents had both been at Columbia during this radical period, but Aubrey had told Smolleck her parents were not political people. Her father’s reaction tonight suggested she may have been mistaken. She searched for her mother and father in the documentary, trying to match the long-haired students to what she imagined her parents might have looked like then, but if they had been there that day, Aubrey couldn’t identify them.
She googled “Larry or Lawrence Lynd” and “Columbia University,” which returned a number of references in recent bios of him being a graduate of Columbia. She narrowed the search, including “1969” and “1970.” Nothing came up.
If her father had been involved with any student activism, he hadn’t been very visible.
Then she googled “Diana Hartfeld” and “Diana Lynd,” since her mother had married her sophomore year, and first “Columbia,” then “Barnard.”
Nothing on her mother, either.
She searched for “Larry Lynd and Jonathan Woodward,” but came up with no hits on the two of them together.
Then something else crossed her mind. Smolleck had brought up the accident her mother had been injured in, as though that were somehow connected to Ethan’s disappearance.
She googled “Accident, Columbia University, 1969.”
No specific hits, but on WikiCU, the wiki site for Columbia University, there was a list of notable incidents in 1969. Protests, students seizing university buildings, the elimination of ROTC from campus, and more references to the SDS organization. She clicked on WikiCU’s link to 1970 and skimmed the entries, stopping on one that caught her eye:
Revolutionary student group Stormdrain accidentally blows up its headquarters in brownstone.
Aubrey followed a link to the article. A black-and-white photo taken at night showed several police standing in front of a row of brick townhouses. Barricades and rubble lined the street, but most noteworthy was the black, gaping space between two stately brick brownstones. The building between them had been leveled.
The caption below the photo read: SITE OF MORNINGSIDE HEIGHTS BROWNSTONE THAT BLEW UP APRIL 1970, KILLING FOUR, INCLUDING THREE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY STUDENTS.
Could this be the accident her mother was in?
Do they hide things from you? Smolleck had asked.
Aubrey hadn’t responded, disturbed by the answer that came to mind.
Yes, they did hide things.
But she was as much at fault. She had never asked her parents about their past, sensing the topic was off-limits. She had grown up trying not to rock the boat because she knew her parents’ marriage wasn’t entirely stable. Then, eight years ago, after Dad left and the boat had capsized, she had felt an even greater need to protect her mother by not wading into treacherous waters.
But those days were over. Aubrey had questions only Mama could answer, and she would ask them. Even if they finally caused the boat to sink.
CHAPTER 18
The wooden floorboard outside her bedroom door groaned.
“Mama?” Aubrey called. “Is that you?”
Her mother opened the door and poked her head in. She was ghostly white.
“What’s wrong?” Aubrey started to rise. “Is Ethan—?”
Her mother held up her hand. “No news.” She came into the room, then sat on the bed.
“Something happened. You’re upset.” Aubrey’s mind jumped to the ultimatum in the note. Her mother couldn’t have . . . “Where’s Jonathan?”
Mama looked at her, as though confused, then her expression cleared. “Jonathan wanted to come back here with me, but I told him not to.” Her eyes were reassuring. “He’s fine, sweetheart. We’re both fine.”
Aubrey released a breath. “Okay. Good.”
“What about you?” Her mother pointed at the laptop. “What have you been doing?”
“Research.”
“On what?”
Aubrey watched her mother for a reaction as she answered her. “The revolutionary movement when you and Dad were students at Columbia.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Why do you care about that?”
“Because Smolleck seems to care. And because Dad acts like you know about something important that happened back then.”
“Your father?”
“I went to see him tonight. I wanted to ask him some questions about the past, but he turned everything back around at you.”
Mama gripped the bedspread. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” she said, in an unnaturally calm voice. “Turn what back on me?”
What was she hiding? “Mama. Were you involved with the brownstone explosion in 1970?”
Her mother looked away.
Oh no, Aubrey thought. Please, no.
“I was outside the brownstone when it exploded,” her mother said, meeting her eye. “That’s how I got injured. The blast ruptured my eardrum, and I was hit by flying debris.”
“But were you involved?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you have something to do with the explosion?”
“It was an accident,” her mother said. “A bomb went off by accident.”
“I know. I read that.”
“I wasn’t responsible for that explosion.” Her mother’s voice was loud, but maybe she was upset that Aubrey would consider such a thing.
“Do you think the explosion could be connected to Ethan’s kidnapping?”
“I don’t see how.”
Aubrey looked up at the snow globes on the shelf above her desk. She had finally shaken up the flakes, but they had settled, and everything was just as before, with Aubrey no closer to finding the truth.