Aubrey went to a small, empty, windowless waiting room, where a hanging TV was tuned to a man in a suit with a droning voice. She sat down on one of the chairs and stared at the man, trying to process what he was saying. Something about the economy and financial markets. She listened harder, making no sense of his words, but it was better than thinking about whether her father might die, whether her mother had been driving the car that had run him down, and where little Ethan was.
She blanked out her thoughts and watched a commercial that came on. An ad for a vacation getaway. Two people riding horses on a deserted beach. It reminded her of the time her own family had stayed on Sea Island in Georgia and went horseback riding one very hot day. Her dad rode a large white horse and had tied a scarf around his head to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes. She remembered how her mother had looked at him. Her hero. Why would she try to kill her white knight on a snowy stallion?
The witness had to be wrong about the driver of the car.
Aubrey sensed someone standing the hallway. She took in the young man’s wrinkled white shirt, unshaved face, and mussed brown hair before registering it was her brother. “Kev,” she said. “You’re here.”
He staggered into the room and dropped into the chair next to hers. “Maybe Dad needs me.” He was slurring his words. “Can’t do anything for Ethan.” He reached into his pockets and took out two miniature bottles, one scotch, one vodka. “This cleaned out the minibar. Want one?”
She was about to refuse, then changed her mind. “Thanks.” She took the vodka from his outstretched hand.
He unscrewed the top of the scotch and took a swig. “They were happy to see me go,” he said. “Prudence and Ernest.” He said their names in a hyperarticulated, proper voice. “Don’t think drinking is appropriate behavior.” He took another swig. “Maybe they’ll fire me.”
She reached over and rubbed his shoulder. She wanted to say everything was going to be okay, but she didn’t believe that. She doubted anything would ever be okay again.
“Who told you about Dad?” she asked.
“Detective Gonzalez. She’s nice. She called a taxi to bring me here. Said she’d call if there was any news.” His shoulder began to quiver beneath her hand. He was crying.
“Shhh, Kev,” she said softly. “They’ll find him.”
He wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve, drank back the rest of the scotch, and then put the empty bottle down on an end table covered with magazines. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s the devil, isn’t she?”
Aubrey shivered.
“Why did I let her back in my life?”
Kevin was talking about Mama. Smolleck or someone must have told him that the driver of the car looked like her.
“I wanted her to love me,” he said. “To be her little prince again. What an idiot!”
Their mother probably had no idea how much her aloofness had hurt both her kids.
“She does love you, Kev. She was dealing with her own issues and didn’t know how to show it.”
He gave his head an angry shake. “I should have known better. Dad did.”
“But Dad was the one who said you should forgive her,” Aubrey said.
“I mean years ago, when he left her. You don’t believe it was just because he met someone new, do you?”
Aubrey had always assumed Star was the reason, but maybe their father had suspicions Mama might be capable of something terrible.
My mother did not try to kill my father. She did not kill Jonathan.
Kevin eyed the unopened bottle of vodka in her hand. “You drinking that?”
She hesitated, then handed it to him. He was probably better off numb.
He took a sip of vodka. “You’re a good sister,” he said. “I’m sorry I almost let you drown.”
“It’s okay, Kev.”
“Do you think she’ll try to kill us, too?” he asked.
A chill flew down her spine. “What do you mean?”
“I heard the investigators say she probably killed Jonathan. And the woman who was driving the car that hit Dad looked like her. Maybe she’s trying to get rid of all of us.”
“No, Kev. Don’t think like that.”
My mother did not try to kill my father. She did not kill her fiancé.
“I’m sorry, Aubrey,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t drown you.”
Her brother was very drunk. His thoughts were getting mixed up. “You mean you’re sorry you almost let me drown.”
He shook his head like a stubborn child. “No. I’m sorry I didn’t drown you, and me with you.” He took another swig of vodka. “It would have been better than living through this.”
She opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong. That this was all a terrible mistake. Their family would be together again, laughing and celebrating Ethan’s next birthday. Happy and safe. Like she’d promised him earlier today.
But this time, the words got stuck in her heart.
CHAPTER 38
The droning voice on the TV or the alcohol had caught up to her brother. He was curled up on the chair, asleep, but gripping the empty vodka bottle like it was a lifesaving tonic. Aubrey left him in the waiting room and went for a walk down the linoleum-covered corridor, past the nurses’ station and patient rooms and beeping machines.
She didn’t like what was happening to her mind—the dark, negative feelings. She understood Kevin’s need to succumb to them. It was almost too much to accept—Ethan, Jonathan, their father. There had to be some other explanation.
Her mother wasn’t a murderer.
She turned back at the end of the corridor and saw Special Agent Smolleck coming in her direction. She hurried toward him, hope that he had something positive to tell her overpowering her fear of more bad news.
Then she saw the tense expression on his face.
“I understand your dad’s in surgery,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go somewhere to talk.”
They were silent as they took the elevator down. She followed him outside to a small inner courtyard with several spindly trees. A few people she took to be visitors and some hospital staff were sitting on benches or talking in small groups.
Smolleck gestured toward a food cart. “Want something?”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
They sat on one of the benches. His tie was crooked, and his shirt less crisp than earlier.
“We haven’t located your mother. I’d really appreciate your help.”