“Detective Ramos?” Caroline whispered, the scream in her throat gaining traction and filling her mouth like bile.
“This is your fault,” he told her. “You should never have left her alone.”
The scream shot from Caroline’s lips into the surrounding air.
“Mom?” a voice called from somewhere above her head. “Mom? Mother, wake up!”
Caroline bolted up in bed, her eyes darting around the hotel room, trying to bring it into focus. “What’s happening?”
“You’re having a nightmare.”
“What?”
“You were having a nightmare,” Michelle said, relegating it to the past tense. “God, look at you. You’re soaking wet.”
Caroline swiped at the pool of sweat between her breasts. She pushed a clump of damp hair away from her forehead.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Michelle said. “What were you dreaming about?”
Caroline shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me? Why the hell not?”
“My mother always said it’s bad luck to tell your dreams before breakfast because the bad ones will come true.”
“Since when did you start listening to Grandma Mary?” Michelle asked.
She was right. Caroline had spent a lifetime trying to ignore her mother’s unsolicited advice. “I’ll tell you after breakfast,” she said anyway.
Except that by the time they’d finished their coffee, Caroline had forgotten all but a few vague details of her nightmare. “It was one of those frustrating dreams where you keep trying to get somewhere but something keeps getting in your way. I probably should have realized it was a dream when I saw the cabdriver.”
“What are you talking about?” Michelle asked.
“And Detective Ramos.”
“Who’s Detective Ramos?”
“You wouldn’t remember.”
They spent the morning sitting in the lobby of the hotel on the off chance that Lili would finally turn up, then called for a taxi to take them to the airport when she didn’t. As the cab pulled away from the curb, Caroline took a last look down the snow-lined street.
“She’s not there, Mother.”
“I know.”
“She never had any intention of showing up.”
“You’re right.” Was she? “Maybe we should have waited longer.”
“And miss our flight? Besides, you left her a note.”
Caroline felt a pang of guilt and looked into her lap. She’d thought she was being discreet when she’d left that note for Lili with the reception desk.
“Stop worrying. I’m sure she’ll contact you again,” Michelle was saying as they settled into their seats on the plane. “She’ll have some sort of sob story, of course, a reason she couldn’t meet you. Then she’ll promise to make it up to you. She’ll offer to come to San Diego. Of course she’ll need money. Yada, yada, yada. It’s like those Internet scams from Nigeria. They’re transparent as hell, but you wouldn’t believe how many people fall for those things.”
I’d believe it, Caroline thought, but said nothing. She wished Michelle would stop talking. She’d made her point, her point being that her mother was an idiot. Caroline leaned her head back in her seat and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, Michelle took the hint and they spent the duration of the flight in silence.
—
Hunter was waiting for them when they pushed through the heavy, opaque glass doors into the arrival area of San Diego International Airport. He was wearing a lightweight navy suit and a blue-and-yellow-striped tie, having come straight from the office. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, grabbing their overnight bags as he led them toward the parking lot.
“Oh, just feel that glorious warm air,” Michelle said, doffing her heavy jacket.
“You don’t have to carry my bag,” Caroline told her former husband. “I can manage.”
“I’ve got it, Caroline. Just answer the question.”
“We’re not in court. I’m not on the witness stand. And you already know what I was doing.”
“Some girl phones, tells you she’s Samantha, and you go running? You honestly thought there was a chance this girl was our daughter?”
“I guess I did.”
“She didn’t show up, did she? She didn’t even call.”
“You know she didn’t,” Caroline said. Michelle had obviously phoned her father from the Calgary airport, relayed the depressing details of their trip, and told him what flight they’d be on.
“How much did that little escapade cost you anyway?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Last-minute tickets don’t come cheap, as we know from past experience. They had to set you back a pretty penny.”
“A pretty penny? Who says things like that anymore?” Caroline said, annoyed at Hunter’s proprietary attitude. They were no longer husband and wife, a decision he’d made for the two of them a dozen years ago. What right did he have to question her expenses? They reached his cream-colored BMW. “Anyway, I’m sure the pennies aren’t nearly as pretty as the ones you spend on a new car every year.”