The Mirror and the Mask (33 page)

“I thought I'd never see you again,” she said, ruffling his curly black fur, kissing his ears. Glancing up at Jane, she added, “I don't know how to thank you.” Her voice caught.

“I'm just glad I found him.”

The dogs raced off into the living room, circled the couch, then tore off through the dining room, their enthusiasm, their normality, almost too much to bear.

“I think they're kindred spirits,” said Jane. She reached down for Annie's hands, drew her up next to her. With Sunny along for the ride, they hadn't talked much on the way back in the car. Jane had so many questions. She moved to turn on the overhead light.

“No, leave it off,” said Annie. She took off her coat, sat down on the stairs.

“How's your headache?” asked Jane.

“Better.”

She sat down next to her. “Were you scared?”

“Yeah, at first. But then, I don't know. I stopped caring.”

Annie seemed to grow pensive

“You want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The dogs charged past again, Mouse with a tennis ball in his mouth, Dooley stopping long enough to spin around a couple of times before resuming the race.

Jane had already decided that she wouldn't tell Annie about Jack's rare moment of altruism. She had no proof that Sunny had murdered her mother. Just the conversation in the graveyard.

Jane sat next to Annie, looking down at her hands, as Annie began to talk. It wasn't a long story, although it had its share of twists and turns. “Bedrock” was what Annie called what she'd learned, what had been missing from her life for way too long. It might be a cliché, but the truth, she insisted, had freed her from a haunted past. Jane nodded as she listened, all the while feeling Annie move closer—but never quite close enough. Body language was subtext, the perfect agony of nearness and distance. Jane understood that it was a dance they had to play, a necessary step.

When Annie was all talked out, she turned to Jane. “You saved my life.”

“I think, in a way, you saved mine, too.”

“That sounds complicated. I can't do complicated anymore tonight.”

The dogs had stopped playing and were now asleep at their feet.

“Seems like a shame to wake them,” said Annie.

“They've probably been snoozing all afternoon.”

“We should let them out.”

“I'll do it,” said Jane. But she didn't move. “If you want, you can
go upstairs. You'll find clean towels in the bathroom. The bed in the guest room is all made up.”

“I don't want to sleep in the guest room.” Her hand strayed to the wisps of hair at the back of Jane's neck.

“You don't? The couch in the living room?”

“Not there either.”

“Where, then?”

“On the roof under the stars.”

Jane smiled. “I'll join you.”

“You won't mind the cold?”

“If I'm with you, it won't be cold.”

 

It was a difficult choice. Cordelia tossed her coat and car keys on a table by the door and dragged herself, with superhuman effort, into the kitchen. She was exhausted. Enervated. At times like this she needed either a bracing can of strawberry or black cherry soda, or a stiff chocolate martini. She didn't have the makings for the martini, so that left the soda. She selected one, popped the top, and went into the living room, where she flopped on the hideous orange IKEA couch. Melville, her most acrobatic cat, was hanging from the chandelier in the dining room. She had no idea why he did this. Perhaps it was one of his preferred methods of exercise.

Blanche, the matriarch of her cat colony, hopped up on her stomach, curled her elegant tail underneath her, and sat down.

“Yeah, one of those days,” said Cordelia, stuffing a pillow behind her head.

It was just after nine, not remotely late, but she could hardly keep her eyes open. She'd driven more than five hours today. Too much, when most of the ride had been in silence. Jane and Annie sat in the backseat on the way home. Annie had fallen asleep with her head against Jane's shoulder. Sunny hunched morosely in the front seat, resolutely refusing to be engaged in any sort of conversation.

Before they entered the sheriff's department, Sunny had pulled Cordelia and Jane aside and asked if they planned to tell the cops what she'd told them.

“Jane said she wasn't sure,” said Cordelia, tapping Blanche on the nose. “But I was. I mean, why not let Jack take the fall. Eventually, Jane gave in and let me make the call. That's when moi had the presence of mind to jump in and ask what she and Jack had talked about back at the cabin.” She took a thoughtful sip of pop. “Sunny immediately began to rage about Annie. She insisted that the kidnapping was all her fault, that she'd come to town with some sort of sick revenge fantasy. Jane tried to calm her down but didn't have much luck.

“But, I mean,
heavens
,” said Cordelia, “when you think of all the criminal acts Jack might be on the hook for, I can see why he did it. Why not fall on his sword for Sunny? He's going to jail for the rest of his life anyway.” She counted off the offenses on her fingers. “Kidnapping. Kidnapping with intent to commit murder.” As an aside, she added, “The guy he hired to help him was singing like a lark even before he was escorted into the interrogation room. And when you take into consideration Annie's information about who Jack Bowman really is, that means he'll be investigated back in Michigan for the two hundred thousand he stole from his partner, and even the possible death of Annie's mother. And from what Jack told Sunny, one of the reasons he left Michigan was that the cops were about to arrest him for dealing drugs. Sunny was, of course, devastated and looking to blame someone other than Jack.”

Blanche hopped up on the back of the couch.

Melville fell off the chandelier and landed on the dining room table between the silver candlesticks.

“Am I boring you two?” asked Cordelia.

Lucifer took the opportunity to slink into the room and jump to the pillow behind Cordelia's head. He batted at her hair.

“Stop that.” She pushed his paw away. “Now that I have everyone's
attention, I shall continue. When we told Sunny about her brother's suicide attempt, she was appalled. She made us drop her off at the hospital so she could see him. She said her boyfriend would pick her up later.” Eying Blanche, she added, “Not that
you
care.”

Lucifer batted at her hair again.

“I thought you were hiding out in the bathtub,” said Cordelia. “Maybe you should go back there.”

All the cats generally showed up for the evening drinking-of-the-pop-or-martini ritual. Normally, Melanie was part of the ceremony. But she wouldn't be back until tomorrow night. Still, as long as Cordelia kept sipping, she had a captive cat audience, and that was better than no audience at all.

“Jane took Annie back to her house. Don't you just wonder about
that
?”

Cordelia had finished her strawberry soda and was about to crush the can in her fist—to amaze the credulous felines—when she heard a soft knock on the door.

“I'm not going to answer it,” she muttered. But then it occurred to her that it might be Octavia, back for round two.

Stomping over to the door, she flung it back.

“Hello, Cordelia.” Radley Cunningham removed his fedora.

“Deeya,” cried Hattie, rushing at Cordelia's knees.

Cordelia was so gobsmacked she nearly fell over backward.

“I know this is a controlled-access building,” said Radley apologetically. His accent was pure upper-crust British. “Perhaps we should have rung up, but a nice young couple allowed us to ride up in the lift with them. Apparently, they didn't take us for terrorists.”

Cordelia barely heard his words. She hugged Hattie to her with all the pain and joy there was in the world. “I can't believe it,” she said, crying and laughing at the same time. She touched Hattie's hair, amazed to think she could have forgotten how soft those blond curls were. Her face looked older. She was taller, bigger, less toddlerlike,
but her eyes were exactly the same. Mischief and intelligence fairly beamed. Cordelia picked her up, carried her inside. She even smelled the same. Bubble gum and Kids' Crest Cavity Protection. Sweet, sweet, and more sweet.

“Lucifer!” cried Hattie. “Blanche! Melville!”

Cordelia was stunned. “She can say her
l
's now?”

“Has been for a good six months,” said Radley. “May I come in, too?”

“Oh, of course,” said Cordelia. She set Hattie down so that she could greet the cat colony. “How? Why . . .” she stammered, turning to Radley.

“May I sit?” he asked. He looked as tweedy as he sounded. He unbuttoned his heavy topcoat and took a chair in the living room. “She's exhausted. Our flight was late leaving New York. Hattie, come here, please. Let's remove your coat.”

“No, let me do it,” said Cordelia. Now that the first shock had worn off, the real shock set in. Hattie was back. But for how long? “Hatts, come here.”

“Hatts,” repeated Hattie, laughing her way over to the couch. “That's funny.”

“I always called you Hatts.” She was devastated to think Hattie had forgotten even a moment of their time together. She removed the bright pink coat. Underneath, Hattie was dressed in black jeans and a black sweater. Looking over at Radley, she said, “I'd heard my sister had called a moratorium on her black and pink period.” Hattie was either a pink-loving princess with biker tendencies, or a Goth with a sense of humor. Either way, her potential to be an odd, fascinating adult was, under the right tutelage, vast.

“We don't always listen to your sister's edicts,” said Radley with a pained smile.

Cordelia hugged her again, breathing in her scent as if it were the breath of life.

Hattie ran off to play with the cats, calling, “I missed you guys.”

“Are you and my sister—”

“We've started divorce proceedings. It's for the best. Please understand that I love Octavia very much, but she's not the woman I thought I was marrying. I realized that the moment I first saw her with Hattie. But I was selfish. I wanted Hattie to come live with us. It wasn't your sister's idea, it was mine.”

“I assumed.”

Radley leaned forward, planted his elbows on his knees, and let his fedora dangle between them. “I've come to make amends. Hattie was almost inconsolable when she first came to us. She missed you so terribly. Missed Yucifer and Gainey.”

“Lucifer and Janey,” whispered Cordelia.

“But children are adaptive creatures. Hattie still isn't close to her mother; perhaps she never will be. I believe Octavia loves her, but at the moment, Hattie is, shall we say, an inconvenience. On the upside, Hattie and I have bonded. I love her beyond measure, as she loves me.”

Cordelia's smile dimmed. “Meaning?”

“Not what you think.” He dropped his hat on an end table next to him. “I agreed to give your sister a quick divorce—on one condition. It was a deal breaker, may I add. If she didn't agree, I said I'd fight the divorce until she was an old woman. She has money, but so do I. And I'm not timid about using it to get what I want. I told her that Hattie belonged with you. That to get her divorce, she had to grant you full legal and physical custody.”

Cordelia's mouth dropped open. “Did she agree?”

“Yes. Much too quickly.” He looked up as Hattie motored toward them with a gray puppet in her hands.

“Look, it's Arnold. You still have him.”

“Of course we have him,” said Cordelia. “I kept everything in your bedroom just the way it was when you left.”

Hattie climbed up on her lap and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“If you look around your room a little more,” said Cordelia, brushing Hattie's hair away from her eyes, “you might find a few surprises.”

“Really?” Excitement bloomed in her China blue eyes. Handing Arnold to Cordelia, she flew off.

Radley smiled a bit ruefully. “She's very happy here. I thought she might be a little reticent. A year and a half is a long time in a child's life.”

“She's never been reticent about anything. She's a true Thorn.”

“Yes, well put.” He leaned back in the chair, crossed his legs. “You see, my career as a film producer takes me all over the world. It's no life for a child. You can give her a stable home, something I can't. As hard as it is for me to give her up, I want what's best for her.”

Tears welled in Cordelia's eyes. “Octavia's the one who should be sorry. She's losing a good man.”

He cleared his throat. “Before you heap too much praise on my head, I do want something in return. I can't lose Hattie altogether. I need time with her as she's growing up, need to be an important part of her life. What I'm hoping is that you'll allow Hattie to spend her summers with me. That way I can take her with me when I travel. And, during the Christmas holidays, I would like very much to come to Minnesota to spend them with her—and with you and your loved ones. I'm really very charming and easy to be around. I clean up after myself and am surprisingly handy. I'll find my own accommodations and won't interfere with your plans. Beyond that, she's yours. I trust,” he added, “that you will allow me to weigh in on important matters in her life. But the final decision will always belong to you. And of course, you're welcome in my home whenever you'd like to come, which I hope is often.” He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

It took Cordelia a moment to process everything he'd said. In life, the cards were usually stacked against happy endings. But this time, she was staring one square in the face. Standing up, she said, “Arise.”

Looking uncertain, Radley got up, then remained suitably still for her crushing hug.

Cordelia felt a tug on her slacks.