The Mirror and the Mask (16 page)

“Robbe?” He said as he tried to right himself.

When he looked up at Annie, his eyes were swimming. “Oops,” he said, grinning like a little kid who'd been caught stealing a cookie.

“Let's get you out of here,” said Annie, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah,” he said, stumbling forward. “Good idea.”

They half carried, half dragged him back down the street. As they rode silently up in the elevator, he teetered next to Annie, his eyes closed. Back in the condo, he tripped over an end table and landed flat on the floor.

“Did I miss a step?” he said, looking confused. He started to laugh, but the laughter turned quickly to tears.

“God, what happened to you?” asked Sunny, shrugging out of her jacket and trying to help him up.

Annie moved over to give her a hand and together they maneuvered him into the bedroom.

“I am
so
fucked up.”

“Shut up,” said Sunny, pulling off his Nikes.

Annie covered him with a quilt, realizing that this was the second time in three days that she'd poured him into bed.

“Don't go,” said Curt, grabbing Annie's hand. “Stay with me.

Here?” he said, fumbling with the quilt, trying to find the edge so he could lift it up.

Sunny crooked her finger, motioned Annie over to the door. With their heads together, Sunny whispered, “I don't want to tell Curt that Mom's death might be ruled a homicide until tomorrow. He's too out
of it tonight. Don't you tell him either, okay? I want to be there when he hears the news.”

“Sure,” said Annie. “I won't say anything.”

“I'm spending the night.”

“Okay. You know where the extra blankets are?”

She gave Annie a pained look. “I'll be in the den if anyone wants me.”

“Aren't you going to call Jack? Tell him where you are?”

She gave her head a tight shake. “He'll be okay.”

“I'm sure he will. I was thinking he might be worried about you.”

“He won't. He gives me a lot of space.” Studying Annie for a moment, she said, “You know, you're the only person I've ever met who didn't assume I call him Dad.”

“Is he your dad?”

“No.”

“Did he adopt you and Curt?”

“Nope. We have no legal or biological relation to him.”

“That okay with you? You never wanted him to be your father?”

“Never. He's something better. He's my best friend.”

The words made Annie's stomach clench. “You two . . . do a lot of stuff together?”

“Sure.”

“I'll bet he's got a fancy motorcycle.”

“He collects them.”

“And you go riding with him?”

“All the time.”

Annie couldn't stop herself. “He ever take you riding in thunderstorms? You know, when there's lots of thunder and lightning?”

Sunny gave her a baffled look. “How'd you know that?”

“You think it's fun?”

“I love it.”

If Annie had harbored hopes of convincing Sunny that Jack was a predator, this little interaction had just dashed them. It felt for all the world as if Jack had won all over again. But he wouldn't. Not this time. Because one way or another, Annie was about to drop a lighted match on his life.

 

 

 

A
t noon the next day, Jane was behind the bar at the Xanadu Club when Annie walked in. Jane waved and smiled, surprised at how glad she was to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your phone call yesterday,” said Annie, easing onto one of the stools. “Sorry I didn't call back. I stopped by the Lyme House a few minutes ago. One of the bartenders said he thought you were working over here today.”

“You hungry?”

“You need to ask?”

“Have lunch with me.” Jane grabbed a menu and led her to a booth. “The food here's a little different from what you had at the Lyme House. This is more American traditional. A steak house with pretensions.”

Annie laughed. As she studied the menu, Jane studied Annie. She wondered where she'd spent the last couple of nights. She'd changed her clothes. The cargo pants had been replaced by black jeans, the wool sweater by a red corduroy shirt over a black scoop-necked tank top. She looked wonderful.

After they'd ordered, Jane said, “I found out a few more things that might interest you.”

Annie leaned forward. “Like what?”

“Well, first off, did you know your mom was fired from her resort job at Lake Ann at the end of ninety-five?”

“She was? Why?”

“She'd become erratic, sometimes not even showing up for work.”

“That doesn't sound like my mom at all.”

“I was told that she'd begun changing well before that.”

Annie's eyes rose, searching her memory. “Okay, yeah. She never missed any work that I knew about, but I did notice a change. I assumed it was me, that my behavior was setting her off. She'd lose her temper over the smallest stuff. A few times I felt like she was pushing me out the door, like she didn't even want me around. I didn't understand it and I let her know. And then, sometimes, she'd get supertalkative, superfriendly. She just wouldn't shut up no matter what I said, and she'd get all gushy, tell me how much she loved me and that I could tell her anything. It was weird. But I figured it was all in reaction to me, to the crap I was pulling.”

“Do you remember her physical appearance changing?”

Annie shook her head.

“Do you know why your dad was in prison?” Jane put the question that way to see if Annie would deny any knowledge of it, as she had earlier.

“Nothing violent. That's all anybody would ever say about it.”

Her heart sank. Annie didn't even remember the lie. “It was drugs. He was selling cocaine. Did you ever see him with any?”

“No. Honestly, I didn't.”

“Your mom?”

“Are you saying she was doing drugs?”

“Meth. It was found in her blood during the autopsy. I've got a copy of the death certificate upstairs if you want to take a look.”

“I can't believe it,” said Annie, shaking her head, looking stunned.

“Didn't anybody comment on the change in your mom at the funeral?”

“There was no funeral. We had a small service at the cemetery. Just Dad and me. Like I said, my dad didn't have a lot of friends. Mom had some, nobody I ever paid much attention to. I didn't like any of them because I thought they were all judging me. That's why, when Dad said he wanted to keep it just family, just the two of us, I thought, great.” She shook her head. “Meth. I can't believe he'd do that to her.”

“How much do you know about meth?”

“Plenty. It destroys people. Rots their teeth, their bodies, their minds.”

“Exactly. It also can cause strokes and heart problems. In fact, if you take too much of it, it can give you a heart attack.”

“You're saying my dad
killed
her?”

“I wish I could tell you I knew for a fact what happened, but nobody knows that—except your father. I'm guessing again, but I think things were closing in on him back then. Maybe the cops suspected he was buying, or buying and selling meth. Or maybe he was just sick of his life and wanted to move on. Either way, he needed money.”

“He was always restless, always looking to score big.”

A waiter set a cup of coffee in front of Jane and a Diet Pepsi in front of Annie.

Jane nodded her thanks. “There's something else you need to know,” she said. “Your mom didn't die in a hospital. She died at home.”

“Are you serious?”

“It's all in the death certificate.”

“Why did he lie to me?”

Jane had to wonder once again why Annie was lying to her.

“I could kill him for what he did.” Her eyes shifted, drifted over the heads of those sitting at the bar. “You heard about his new wife.
Susan? She fell down the stairs at their house on Wednesday and died. I'm pretty sure that he pushed her.”

“Why?”

“Susan was having an affair with another real estate agent. His name's Robbe. I'll bet anything Dad found out and blew a gasket. The police are calling it suspicious, but I don't think it will be long before it's ruled a murder.”

Jane took a sip of coffee. “Have you talked to your father?”

“Yeah. Yesterday.”

“Annie, listen to me.” She pushed the mug away. “The reason I did that extra research on him was because I'm afraid. For
you
. I think he's dangerous. Maybe it's best if you just leave, go back to Colorado.”

“Not until I get what I came for.”

“Answers.”

“Yes.”

“That's all?”

“What else would there be?”

“I'm concerned for you. I don't want you to get hurt.”

“What's it to you?”

“I'm not sure I could live with myself if something happened to you because I found your father for you.”

“Don't worry. I'll be fine.”

“Will you?”

“I'm only going to stick around a few more days.”

“Do you have enough money to get home?”

“I'm okay.”

“If you need more cash, you could work the bar here this afternoon.”

“Really? You need the help?”

“Fridays are always busy. If you're interested, I'll have our head bartender show you the ropes.”

“You're incredible, you know that?”

Jane felt a flush climb her cheeks. “Just . . . earn what you need and then go home. Go have a good life and forget about Jack Bowman.”

“Good advice,” said Annie. “You know what? For once I'm going to do the smart thing and take it.”

No, you won't
, thought Jane.
No way on earth
.

 

 

 

K
ristjan and his wife were a sorry pair. While their kids were off at school, they were left alone, each trapped in silent, solitary misery.

Barbara was too depressed to do anything other than lie on the couch and watch her daily dose of adultery, duplicity, betrayal, and deception, otherwise known as the afternoon soaps. Kristjan stayed in his study, his feet propped up on a footstool, looking out the window at the snow-covered hot tub in the backyard, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong.

In between moments of panic, Kristjan mourned the death of the woman he once thought he would be with forever. And yet, as hard as he tried to remember the path they'd taken in their minds, he couldn't understand how they'd reached the conclusion that the only way for them to live the life they wanted was to end Jack's. Hearing those words from Susan had been an out-of-body experience. It was like being an actor in a movie.
He
hadn't agreed to help, the reckless stranger inhabiting his body had. But when that one, brief moment of madness turned into cold reality the next day, he
knew, at all costs, he had to stop her. With or without his permission, she would drag him into it—of that he had little doubt.

As dismal as Kristjan felt, he had to keep his wits about him. The police had ruled Susan's death suspicious. That meant they would start digging into her life. It wouldn't take long before Kristjan's name popped up. There was no proof of their affair, no smoking gun, just innuendo and office hearsay. Even if it could be proved, the fact that he and Susan were having an affair didn't mean he'd murdered her. If anything, it argued against it. Jack was the obvious suspect. He was the wronged husband who lost his temper. It was such an age-old equation that the police had to put it together.

Barbara appeared in the doorway. Her frizzy light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The dark smudges under her eyes were evidence that she hadn't been sleeping well.

“A car just drove up,” she said. “I think it's the police.”

He dropped his feet to the carpet. “A squad car?”