The Anniversary (31 page)

put it down. She needed to clear her mind a bit before calling 16

Jamison back.
It could just be a coincidence.
The thought brought 17

a ray of hope. Maybe the attack was a random thing. Or maybe it 18

was personal. A violent boyfriend. An angry client. Nothing to 19

do with Steven.

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What did Jamison know? That was another question. What 21

did he know about the watch and note? Did he know who she 22

really was?

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The watch. The note.

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Callie froze. She’d left them with Melanie. She wondered 25

where they were right now. Had Melanie’s attacker found them?

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She punched in Jamison’s number. He answered on the first 27

ring.

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Their greetings were brief, perfunctory, then Jamison ran 29

through the facts. How Melanie’s attacker had come disguised as 30

a florist’s deliveryman. How the law firm had sent someone look-31

ing for her when she didn’t show up at work.

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“It happened around one this morning, but they didn’t find her 33

until nine or so. She didn’t show up at an early meeting. They 34

couldn’t reach her on the phone. So the law firm sent a paralegal 35 S

over to look for her. In one way she was lucky. Right after the at-36 R

tacker went up, she got a delivery of Chinese food. When the de-1 7 0

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livery guy knocked on the door, he must have scared the attacker.

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It looks like the attacker fled when the Chinese food guy went 2

back downstairs.”

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“How is she?” Callie asked. “What did he do to her?”

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“She was hit with some sort of blunt object, a glancing blow to 5

the side of the head. When they found her, she was unconscious, 6

and they rushed her into surgery. She had what they call a sub-7

dural hematoma — that’s a bleeding in the brain. The bleed was 8

pushing against the brain, compressing the brain tissue.”

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“Surgery,” Callie said faintly. “Is she . . . will she be okay?”

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“At this point, we don’t know. She’s still in intensive care. She 11

was conscious for a few hours after the operation. That’s when 12

she told me to call you. Then, well, she had a relapse. She’s in a 13

coma now.”

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“My God,” said Callie. “I’m so, so sorry.” She realized that she 15

was crying. A tear rolled silently down one cheek. She wiped it 16

away with a hand.

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“The flowers that the guy who attacked her brought, do you 18

know what kind they were?”

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“I don’t know,” said Jamison. “Any special reason you’re ask-20

ing?”

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“No, I just . . . I don’t know.” Callie realized that she was shak-22

ing. Thoughts whirled through her mind. “What did Melanie tell 23

you about me? Why did she ask you to call me?”

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“She kept repeating several names. Yours was one of them.

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Your number was in her book. The rest I figured out myself.”

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“The rest?”

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“She told me about the watch and letter, that a woman she 28

knew had received them. She didn’t give me a name. But you’re 29

that woman, right?”

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Callie swallowed hard. “Where are they?” she asked. “Did he 31

find them? That watch and the letter, I mean.”

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“Luckily, no. They’re in the hands of authorities now. The 33

Maine state police will want to talk to you about them. And 34

about the Massey case.”

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“The watch —”

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“It belonged to Diane. We’ve already checked that out.

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Melanie was going to tell you. Apparently, she didn’t have a 3

chance.”

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Too late Callie thought that she shouldn’t have been so open, 5

shouldn’t have been so quick to admit her connection to the let-6

ter and watch. Until then, Jamison was going on suspicion. Now 7

he knew for sure. At the same time, she had a helpless feeling.

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What did it really matter? Even if she’d kept her mouth shut, it 9

was only a matter of time.

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“Both Diane and Melanie had ties to Steven Gage. Is that also 11

true for you?”

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She could tell that he was feeling his way, like a blind man in 13

a strange room. His instincts were good. He was sensitive. But he 14

didn’t have the facts.

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“I don’t mean to be rude,” said Callie. “But I’m not going to 16

answer that.”

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“Fair enough,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me. But you do 18

need to tell the police, Ms. Thayer. There’s a killer out there.”

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“But how do you know that I can help? How do you know it’s 20

connected?”

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A pause.

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“I don’t know,” Jamison said finally. “But I intend to find out.

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And I hope you’ll do whatever you can to help with this investi-24

gation.”

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“I . . . of course, I will. But I’m not sure —”

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Before she could discover what she’d meant to say, Jamison 27

cut in.

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“Melanie told me that you have a child, that you’re worried 29

about privacy. I have children too. I understand your concerns.

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But even if you’re willing to risk your own life, other people are 31

involved. If you’d gone to the police in the first place, this thing 32

might not have happened.”

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“We can’t know that,” Callie said. But the words had hit their 34

target. She’d put Melanie in harm’s way, and then she’d tied her 35 S

hands. She was the one responsible. Just like before.

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Just like before.

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Remorse washed over her.

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“I’ll talk to the police,” said Callie. “I’ll do whatever I can. Will 2

they . . . do you think they can keep it confidential, the fact that 3

I’m involved?”

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“I’m sure they’ll do whatever they can to work with you on 5

that.”

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“Do you have a phone number?”

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“In Maine, you need to talk with Jack Pulaski. He’s with the 8

state police.” Callie took down the name and number as Jamison 9

read them off.

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“The police in New York and Maine — are they working to-11

gether on this?”

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“Not yet,” Jamison said. “It takes a while for multijurisdic-13

tional investigations to get up and running. The links have to be 14

established, and this thing with Melanie just happened. But 15

soon, I hope, they’ll be collaborating. You can help with that.

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You provide a link between Diane and Melanie.”

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Upstairs, Callie heard the toilet flush. Anna was awake.

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“I’ll call first thing tomorrow,” she promised.

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“Good,” Jamison said. “In the meantime, I hope you won’t 20

mind if I pass on your name and number.” She heard the words as 21

a warning. If she didn’t step forward herself, they’d come after her.

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Anna appeared in the doorway, her face crumpled and pink, 23

mouth turned down at the edges in an expression of accusation.

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“You woke me up,” she said.

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Callie raised a hand to signal she’d be just a moment. “I guess 26

that’s it,” she said.

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“For now. And Ms. Thayer — please be careful.”

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After she’d hung up the phone, Callie pulled Anna into her 29

arms, rubbed her nose against the silky hair. “Sorry, sweetie,” she 30

said.

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“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Anna was waking up 32

now.

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Callie forced a smile. “Not a thing. Let’s get you back to bed.”

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She walked Anna upstairs, then tucked her under her blan-S 35

kets. Anna sighed contentedly, then rolled over on her side. In R 36

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the shadowed dimness of her daughter’s room, time seemed so 2

precious. She’d always planned to tell Anna the truth at that dis-3

tant point called
someday,
but the luxury of this delay was one 4

she no longer had. Tonight — right now — her secret was safe, 5

but tomorrow that might change. Gazing at the face of her sleep-6

ing daughter, she wondered what to say.

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Friday, April 28

Sh a d o w s. Shapes. Voices.

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Her eyelids were so heavy. She had to get to work. A meeting on the
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Leverett case. But something was holding her down, keeping her from
3

moving. Who was in the room with her? Where was she, anyway?

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Another voice. A man’s: “How’s she doing? Is she waking up?”

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A mumbled response in the background that she couldn’t quite make
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out.

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Lying there, she realized they must be talking about her. “I’m fine!

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I hear you!” she wanted to say. “Just help me to get up.”

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Then, confused, she knew that she couldn’t be fine, after all. If she
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was fine, she wouldn’t need their help. If she was fine, she’d just sit up.

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What had happened? What was wrong? She strained for the memo-12

ries.

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She was eating dinner with Paul. He was mad at her.

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Alone in her Harwich & Young office, she stared at her computer.

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The images flickered through her mind, like frames in some home
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movie. But nothing she saw could explain to her what was going on.

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She sensed a darkening overhead, someone leaning forward. Panic.

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A jolt of fear. Steven Gage had found her. Somewhere, deep inside,
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she’d known it would happen. It didn’t matter that she’d tried to help
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him, that she’d tried to save his life. She’d always sensed that when he
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looked at her, he wanted to see her dead. She’d tried to tell herself it
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wasn’t so, but, always, she’d known the truth. Steven was a predator.

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That was just his nature.

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Then the fear seemed to break, give way to a certain acceptance.

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She was floating on a bank of clouds, could see things in perspective.

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Maybe she deserved what was happening. Maybe it made sense. She’d
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always been one of the lucky ones, but luck could always change. Why
2

should she be alive to protect him, while so many women were dead?

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Slowly, the shadow receded. Whoever had been there was gone.

4

And it couldn’t have been Steven, anyway. Steven Gage was dead.

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Steven Gage was dead. So what was she afraid of?

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At that moment, it all came back to her: Happy Anniversary.

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h

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9

Mike Jamison gazed at the thin form beneath the starched white 10

hospital sheet. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing here.

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He’d learned of the attack yesterday when he’d called Melanie’s 12

office. She wasn’t there, and when he inquired, her secretary told 13

him why. Even before he hung up the phone, he’d started making 14

plans. He had his assistant reschedule meetings and rushed home 15

to pack. Three hours later he was on a plane, heading for New 16

York.

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Now he studied Melanie, the bruised motionless face. She’d 18

been in a coma since last night, a postsurgery relapse. As he sat 19

by her side, there’d been a constant stream of doctors, nurses, 20

technicians, but their faces faded to a blur as he focused on 21

Melanie. The white gauze wrapped around her head resembled a 22

snowy turban. An intravenous tube ran from her arm through a 23

metal pole. Wires attached to her chest connected to the EKG

24

monitor, while some sort of strange metallic device measured her 25