Cast into Doubt

SEVEN

The next morning they arrived at the police station early and found Chief Giroux deep in conversation with Agent DeWitt. As Shelby and Rob entered the large common room where half a dozen officers were working, chatting, and drinking tea, the room fell silent. Everyone stared at them for a moment, and then resumed their work in a quieter fashion.

‘How was the Maison?’ Chief Giroux asked. ‘Did Christophe make you comfortable?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Shelby said dully.

‘He runs a very nice place. My father and Christophe’s father came here from Martinique when they were young men. Our mothers are sisters. So, we are more like brothers than cousins,’ he said.

Shelby and Rob did not reply. The only family they could think about was their own.

The Chief did not bother to ask them how they had slept. It was obvious from their rumpled clothes and the blue circles under their puffy, reddened eyes, that the night had been long and grim. ‘We have a few things we need to discuss with you,’ he said.

‘If you both would come with us,’ said Agent DeWitt.

Chief Giroux indicated one of the open interrogation rooms and they all filed in. Agent DeWitt closed the door. On a table at the front of the room was a computer monitor, humming, but blank. Chief Giroux offered them all a seat. Rob refused. Shelby took it gratefully. Chief Giroux’s dark skin made his shirt look almost blindingly white. He clasped his hands behind his back and spoke to them gently but firmly. ‘First of all, Mr Kendricks, Mrs Sloan, It’s my sad duty to tell you that the search for Chloe is no longer a rescue mission. The Coast Guard has suspended all operations . . .’

‘Oh no,’ Rob groaned.

‘What?’ Shelby cried.

The Chief continued speaking as if they had not spoken. ‘Now, it’s officially considered a recovery mission. We don’t need the Coast Guard for that. That can be carried out by the local police.’

Shelby stared at him through eyes grainy from weeping. ‘What does that mean?’

Agent DeWitt toyed with the end of his tie. ‘Simply put, it means that we no longer have the expectation that your daughter can still be alive. We base this on all our knowledge of the sea, the body’s susceptibility to hypothermia, the ocean predators. In fact, there was little chance that she was alive when she went into the water after a fall like that. But by now, the chances are . . . negligible really.’

‘No,’ Shelby protested. ‘You can’t just give up.’

Chief Giroux sighed. ‘Mrs Sloan. I know it’s terribly difficult, but you must understand that your daughter is not going to be found alive. She probably won’t be found at all.’

‘She certainly won’t be found if you stop looking,’ Shelby retorted.

Rob did not protest, but he slumped down into the nearest chair. His face was white as chalk. The police chief simply shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. Shelby turned to Agent DeWitt. ‘Can’t you do something? You’re from the government. Tell them they have to continue.’

Agent DeWitt frowned at her, his gaze sympathetic, but immovable.

‘So, that’s it?’ said Shelby in disbelief. She turned to Rob. ‘Are you just going to sit there? You have to do something.’

Rob’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘I’m not a magician, Shelby. If I could bring her back I would.’

Shelby ignored him, hating him. ‘What if we were to hire searchers of our own? Maybe you could suggest someone. People who know these waters . . . I can pay for it. I’ll gladly pay for it.’

‘Mrs Sloan,’ said the chief, his eyes filled with concern. ‘I cannot stop you if that is what you want to do. But she went overboard nearly thirty-six hours ago. Short of a miracle . . .’

‘Yes,’ Shelby said hopefully. ‘A miracle. It could be—’

‘I would be lying to you if I agreed with you. It’s impossible to survive that long in the water. Especially after a fall like the one she took from the boat,’ said the chief. ‘I cannot encourage you to throw your money away.’

‘It’s my money. If I want to hire someone—’

‘See here,’ said the chief. ‘I will arrange it for you, all right. I will arrange for several boats to continue the search, for as many days as you authorize.’

‘I don’t want just anybody,’ Shelby insisted. ‘I want helicopters too. And qualified people. Boaters who know these waters.’

‘I understand. And all this can be arranged.’ he said soothingly. ‘Independent contractors. I warn you, it will be at great expense. But, I can contact these people for you, if that is what you wish.’

‘Then do,’ said Shelby.

‘I have to advise you against this,’ said Agent DeWitt. ‘It makes no sense. This is a waste of your resources. The Coast Guard used aircraft – both helicopters and a long-range surveillance plane. They used their own cutters, and they thoroughly searched an area of approximately 800 square miles. They scanned it repeatedly with the most sophisticated equipment available.’

‘Still . . .’ Shelby said stubbornly.

Chief Giroux and Agent DeWitt exchanged a glance. ‘You don’t have to decide right this minute,’ said the chief. ‘Think it over and you can call me. If you decide that’s what you want, it won’t take any time at all to put this plan into operation.’

‘And furthermore, I’m not at all satisfied with your conclusions. You don’t even know how she came to be in that water. It’s not good enough to say she was drunk and she fell overboard. I don’t accept that,’ Shelby insisted.

‘That’s one reason we brought you in here. I want to show you something,’ said the chief. He approached the computer that was sitting on a desk at the front of the room. ‘Mr Kendricks saw these yesterday. I wanted you to see them. Look here.’ He began to key in some commands, and the computer screen raced from one image to another. The chief halted at the one he wanted.

Shelby leaned forward and watched the video that was on the screen. The film was shot from above, from a fixed location. The people on the film were strolling in front of a café. It took Shelby a moment to recognize the young woman with long, wavy hair, wearing a sundress, leaning against the bar.

‘Chloe,’ Shelby yelped, automatically reaching for the screen. ‘Where is she? Where did you get that?’

‘It’s film from the security camera on the Lido deck of the ship,’ said Agent DeWitt. ‘Watch what she does.’

Shelby watched as Chloe, looking all around her guiltily, placed an order. The bartender pulled a bottle off the shelf behind him and made her a drink. Chloe handed him her card and gulped the drink down. He had no sooner swiped her card than she indicated that she wanted another. The bartender complied.

‘So, she had something to drink,’ said Shelby dismissively.

‘If you like, we can watch her drink two more of these,’ said Agent DeWitt with a hint of sarcasm.

Shelby felt her face redden.

‘Now,’ said Chief Giroux, aiming a remote at the keyboard. Another image arose, this one of tables with many people seated, talking and consulting the cards in front of them. It was easy to spot Chloe. She sat stiffly at a table near the back of the room, a numbered card on the table in front of her. The camera that caught her was also positioned near the back of the room, so Shelby was able to have a clear view of her daughter. She was a few seats down from the other people. A woman leaned over to talk to her, and Shelby recognized Virgie and Don, the fiftieth anniversary couple who had talked to her in the hallway yesterday. They were clearly trying to engage Chloe in conversation. Shelby watched as Chloe replied, gesturing vaguely.

The other couple Shelby had met, Bud and Peggy, joined the table, and Peggy leaned her metal cane against it. The conversation continued. Chloe’s eyelids drooped and, while she was talking, she made an expansive gesture that knocked the cane over and it clattered to the floor. Chloe looked chagrined, and got unsteadily to her feet. She bent over to try to retrieve the cane, but couldn’t seem to grasp it. The lame woman’s husband came around and picked it up. Chloe clearly was apologizing but he shook his head as if to say it didn’t matter. This time, he placed the cane far out of Chloe’s reach.

The bingo game proceeded and all were marking their cards except Chloe, who was staring into her drink, and occasionally making some comments to no one in particular. Her head would begin to nod, and then she would force herself awake, like a sleepy driver at the wheel of a car. Finally, she could resist her condition no more. Her eyes closed, and her head hit the table, her arms splayed out across the table, sending bingo cards skidding across the table’s surface, and markers fluttering to the floor. Her cheek was mashed against the tabletop. Her eyes were closed. People from the other tables turned to stare. The people at Chloe’s table looked at her, and then at one another worriedly. The old woman began to shake Chloe’s shoulder and speak directly into her ear. Chloe shook her head but did not lift it from the table.

Shelby averted her gaze from the screen. ‘Enough,’ said Shelby.

The chief turned it off. ‘We have a lot more footage,’ said the chief with a sigh. ‘We have footage of her being helped to her room, these people carrying her shoes and pocketbook, and she cannot even stand up. Of course there is no footage from inside the cabins – that’s private space – but we can surmise that after these nice people left her alone in the room . . .’

‘All right,’ Shelby cried. ‘All right.’

Rob sat, stone-faced, staring at the blank screen.

The chief and Agent DeWitt exchanged a glance.

‘What now?’ Shelby whispered.

‘You go back home and remember her in happier times,’ Giroux advised.

‘I can’t,’ Shelby wailed.

Shelby wanted to cling to her chair, to refuse to move like a stubborn child, but when she looked at her son-in-law’s face she knew that he had given up the fight. He had accepted it; his wife had fallen overboard in a drunken accident.

‘I wish there was more we could do,’ said Chief Giroux.

‘I understand,’ said Rob. He shook hands with him. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for everything. Thank you for trying.’

Chief Giroux nodded gravely. Shelby got up from her chair. She felt too disoriented and outraged to offer the police chief her hand. But, at the last moment, as Rob urged her toward the door, she turned to the chief and Agent DeWitt. ‘Yes,’ she said humbly. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’re terribly sorry for your great loss,’ said the chief, nodding slightly. ‘One of my officers will take you back to the hotel. You can wait for him in the lobby.’

Stiffly, they walked down to the vestibule. But as if by common consent, they both decided to step outside. Rob stood in the narrow street as Shelby leaned against the building, feeling woozy from the tropical heat.

‘So you’re not in favor of continuing the search,’ she said to him in an accusing tone.

Rob shook his head but did not look at her. ‘I’d do it myself if I had that kind of money. I suppose I could sell the house or whatever. But I have to think of the kids. Of their future. That’s what Chloe would want.’

‘You’re so . . . passive. You’re so resigned to it,’ Shelby said angrily.

‘Well, I’ve been here a bit longer than you,’ Rob retorted. ‘Reality has begun to set in,’ he said.

The officer pulled up in front of the Justice Center, and they got into the car. They returned to the hotel in silence, and, upon arrival at the Maison sur la Mer, they went their separate ways without speaking.

Shelby lay on the bed, the fan revolving over her head, her hands covering her eyes, and thought about mounting her own search. She knew they were not lying to her. It was probably hopeless. And it would be expensive. Although she had some money, she was far from rich. But there was a brokerage account that she could cash out. It was her money for a rainy day. And she had money saved for her retirement. After a while she got up off the bed and rang the police station. The chief answered her call immediately.

‘I want to start the search again. A helicopter. And boats.’

‘This could cost tens of thousands of dollars,’ the chief warned.

‘Please arrange it for me,’ Shelby said. ‘I’ll pay for it. Shall I come down to the station? You must have papers you’ll want me to sign.’

‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact. I will need proof that you have the funds available to pay for this,’ said the chief.

‘I’ll come down there before my flight back. I’ll give you my bank references.’

‘I’ll waste no time having them checked, and we’ll get the search underway.’

‘Thank you,’ said Shelby.

‘Then you can go back home and see about your grandson. I promise I will keep you informed.’

‘I’d appreciate that,’ said Shelby.

While Rob was on the phone trying to make travel arrangements, Shelby went downstairs and asked Christophe to prepare their bills.

‘You’re leaving?’ Christophe said.

Shelby nodded. ‘They think it’s hopeless.’

Christophe winced, as if he could imagine the pain of that verdict. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You’ve been very nice,’ said Shelby without feeling.

‘What will you do when you get back?’ Christophe asked.

Shelby shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Go home I suppose. Try to . . . I don’t know. I was going to say “start again” but I . . . well . . .’

Christophe nodded. ‘I wish you well. I hope you find your peace of mind.’

Shelby thanked him and returned to her room. She opened the bureau drawer and took out the clothes. She packed her few things, including Chloe’s t-shirts that she had brought to wear herself. Just folding them into the suitcase made her feel as if she was going to collapse from the pain. It felt so wrong to leave. Even though, she reminded herself, she was spending all her savings for the search to continue, she felt that by leaving she was agreeing to give up on Chloe. Chloe, whom she had worked for, struggled for, dreamed about. Now, the meaning of her life was gone – lost beneath the glimmering waves.

For a moment, Shelby thought that she would stay right here in St Thomas. She sat down beside the open suitcase and considered the possibility. Why not, she thought? Why not let everything else go except her slim bit of hope? She could question every boat’s captain as he returned from the search. Remain vigilant. If she did, she would eventually go mad sitting by the harbor, staring out at the blinding surface of the pale jade sea, still hoping after all hope was gone. But so what? What did it matter if she went mad? Why go on?

But one image flickered persistently in her heart. It was the face of a small boy who was about to be dealt an unimaginable loss. Jeremy was Chloe’s son, and he would need her to put her own sorrow aside and come to his aid. Chloe would want her to go – to be with Jeremy. To help him through it. She knew it was true. So, that decided it. She rose from the chair to finish her meager packing. She would go. At least for the moment, she would leave it to the searchers, and go.

Shelby and Rob were booked on the same flights home, first a small plane to Miami, and then a later flight back to Philadelphia. They were not seated near one another, but Rob waited dutifully for her after the first leg of the flight, and they sat in silence together in an airport bar in Miami.

‘Did you talk to Jeremy?’ Shelby finally asked him as she clinked the ice cubes in her limeade. ‘Does he know yet?’

Rob shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to break it to him.’

Shelby nodded. She glanced over at her son-in-law resting his head in his hands. She thought about all the cruel accusations she had leveled at him. It was true that he had been more passive in the face of this disaster than she would have wished. But looking at him now, it was clear what a toll the loss of Chloe was taking. His skin was ashen and his eyes were red-rimmed and sunken. He seemed to have aged about twenty years in the last week. She had been thinking about something that she hesitated to say. Finally, she decided to just blurt it out. ‘You know, Rob,’ she said, ‘I’ve been thinking. This is all going to be so hard on Jeremy . . .’

Rob nodded and spoke absently. ‘No kidding.’

‘The last thing I want to do is to make things more difficult. But I was just wondering,’ said Shelby, ‘if it might be best for Jeremy, if I stayed with you. Just for a little while. Just till he gets used to the idea that his mother is . . . isn’t coming back.’

Rob looked at her warily ‘You mean . . . at our house?’ he said.

‘Just for a few days. Of course, I realize that I may not be welcome with Chloe gone.’

‘No, it’s not that,’ he said.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Nothing. It’s just that I know you’re busy. I mean, Chloe was telling me about your new boss and all. She said you were worried about it.’

Shelby thought about her job. The man who had hired her, groomed her, and repeatedly promoted her, Albert Markson, had died suddenly last month. His nephew, Elliott, a younger, less approachable man, had taken over, and made it clear that every employee and every position was going to be reevaluated. ‘I feel like none of it matters any more,’ she said.

‘I know what you mean,’ Rob agreed. Then, he sighed. ‘But you don’t want to lose your job.’

‘The job can wait. Of course, if you think I would be in your way,’ Shelby said, feeling the awkwardness between them.

Rob avoided her gaze and said nothing to contradict her. A voice on the loudspeaker was making a preliminary boarding call for their flight to Philly. ‘That’s us,’ said Rob, standing up.

Shelby stood up and pulled out the handle of her bag. She had not expected wild enthusiasm for her idea, but did feel as if he could have at least been polite about it.

‘All right,’ he said.

Shelby looked at him uncertainly. ‘All right I should stay?’

Rob shrugged. ‘For Jeremy,’ he said.

‘I think it’s what Chloe would want me to do,’ she said.

Rob did not reply. He rolled his bag out around her chair, and, avoiding her gaze, headed for the door.