Cast into Doubt (9 page)

‘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.

EIGHT

T
hey barely spoke on the drive back from the airport. When they arrived at the house, all the parking spots along the curb were taken. Rob pulled his pick-up truck beside a parked car and held his foot on the brake. ‘You can get out,’ he said. ‘I may have to park up the block.’

Shelby gazed at her daughter’s home. Winter pansies bloomed in Chloe’s carefully tended windowboxes. It was only a week ago, Shelby thought, that she had pulled up and seen her daughter waiting for her in front of that gray stone row home. It seemed like an eternity. ‘I’m dreading going in,’ she said.

Exhaustion and impatience were written all over Rob’s face. ‘You can wait outside if you want,’ he said.

‘No, I only meant . . . Never mind. I’ll go in. I have my key.’ Slowly, painfully, as if all her joints were frozen, Shelby forced herself to get out of the truck’s cab. She lifted her bag out of the truck bed and walked up to the front door, rolling her suitcase along behind her as Rob pulled away from the curb.

Shelby unlocked the slate-blue front door and it swung open into the cool darkness of the vestibule. She walked in and stood still, overwhelmed by her memories of Chloe.

Rob followed in a few minutes, dragging the suitcases. I better put this stuff away, he said. ‘Jeremy will be home any minute.’

‘Any minute?’ Shelby asked. ‘What do you mean? Aren’t we going to go and pick him up?’

Rob answered without looking at her. ‘I called Lianna when we landed in Philly. She offered to bring him over.’

Shelby’s stomach churned at the thought of Jeremy’s imminent arrival. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to hear Rob tell this small boy that his mother was gone forever. ‘Maybe you should call Lianna back and tell her we’ll come and get him.’

‘What for?’ Rob said. ‘They can bring him.’

‘I know. I understand,’ said Shelby. ‘I just thought—’

She was interrupted by a knock at the front door. ‘Probably them,’ said Rob. He went to the door and opened it. Two men in jackets and ties stood on the front step. They both displayed their police shields.

Rob stared at them. ‘Yes?’ he said.

‘Sir, I’m Detective Ortega. This is my partner, Detective McMillen. Can we trouble you for a minute?’

‘What for?’ Rob demanded.

‘Rob,’ Shelby protested. She knew that he was fed up with police, but his attitude was rude. ‘Please, come in,’ she said.

The two officers entered the living room. ‘Just back from a trip?’ said the younger one.

Rob and Shelby exchanged a glance. ‘Yes,’ said Shelby.

‘This won’t take long. We wondered if you would mind looking at this picture for us.’ He held out a photo of a man with short hair and vacant eyes. It was the sort of photo that hung on the post office wall – full face and profile. ‘Do you recognize this man?’

‘No. Who is he? What’s this got to do with us?’ Rob demanded.

‘His name’s Norman Cook. He recently escaped from a prison road crew out near Lancaster. He hijacked a car that just turned up in a municipal lot where it had been towed. When we found it, it had a parking ticket from this block on it. We’re canvassing the block to see if anyone knows this guy and can help us to find him. He could be very dangerous.’

Rob frowned and looked at the drawing more closely. ‘No. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen this guy.’ The officer showed it to Shelby.

Shelby shook her head. ‘Sorry. No.’

‘OK,’ said Detective Ortega. ‘Keep an eye peeled. If he does have a connection to someone on this block, he may return to the neighborhood. If you see him, please, give us a call. He’s a violent felon.’

‘Will do,’ said Rob.

The officers left and went on to the next house, although their black and white cruiser remained parked in a no parking zone across the street, its lights flashing.

Rob sighed. ‘All right. I’d better put these suitcases away before Jeremy sees them.’

‘We need more time,’ Shelby fretted.

Rob frowned at her. ‘Putting it off isn’t going to make it any easier,’ he said.

Shelby knew that he was right. She realized that she would have put it off forever, if only she could. To be useful, to stop herself from thinking, she took her bag back up to Molly’s room.

While she was unpacking, she heard the front door open, and a young voice called out ‘Dad?’

Shelby went to the top of the stairs and looked down.

Molly, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, stood there uncertainly. She looked up and saw Shelby, and the teenager’s eyes widened behind her glasses. Without a word to Shelby she disappeared into the vestibule. As Shelby started down the stairs, she heard Molly calling out the front door to her mother. ‘Mom. Hurry up.’

Shelby followed her into the vestibule. ‘Come on in,’ Shelby said.

Molly avoided looking at Shelby, as if fearful she might be stricken by a curse if she met Shelby’s gaze. Molly edged past her into the living room. Rob came down the stairs and saw his daughter. He opened his arms and Molly flung herself against him, her cheek flattened against his shirt.

‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ she said, her voice muffled.

Rob stroked her unkempt hair tenderly, his gaze faraway. ‘Thanks, sweetheart. I know you are.’

Shelby walked out on to the front step and peered into the darkness. Lianna was leaning into the back seat of the car, which was double-parked in front of the house. The car’s flashers were blinking. Harris got out of the driver’s seat and waved to Shelby. He indicated the police car, its lights still flashing, parked illegally across the street, and frowned.