Unspoken (39 page)

“You’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

“Keep an eye on John for me, would you?” Charlotte asked. “As soon as it’s official, I’m going to so enjoy teasing him. It will be a pleasure to see him settled. He’s probably already chosen an engagement ring for her, but I was thinking we should offer to design the wedding rings if they would like. And I want to do a tiara for Ellie to wear with her veil. Something elegant.”

Bryce smiled. “I’m now hoping this isn’t going to happen too soon so you two can spend the next few months giggling over the wedding plans. She’s a good friend to you, Charlotte.”

“The best. They both are.” She curled her feet up and shifted around to get more comfortable. “Are you okay staying up a while tonight? I’m wide awake. I wouldn’t mind even watching a Mets game to fill some time.”

He reached for the remote. “I’ll find us something to enjoy. Tell me what else you did this evening.” He listened as she gave the run-through and wished he could give his wife a month of these enjoyable evenings before she learned about the photo and what it meant. Once more she was going to feel deep pain, and he couldn’t protect her. That’s what was so agonizing to him about what was coming. He listened to her happy chatter and made a memory of this night, knowing it might be the last easy evening for a while to come.

Bryce worked because he didn’t know how else to fill the time, reading through financial reports, completing due diligence on organizations, evaluating projects being developed. He got through the mail, and he waited for Paul to confirm a name that was going to rip his wife’s world apart once more.

John called midafternoon on the third day. “Paul just phoned me,” John said quietly. “He’s got confirmation. Christopher Caleb Cox is the man we’ve been after. He’s the man in the photo with Charlotte, and he’s a voice match to the baby Connor call.”

“Find Ellie, Charlotte’s going to need her, then tell Paul to come over.”

“Expect us within the hour.”

His wife was sitting at the back patio table, her sketchbook open and her focus on the birds visiting the feeder. Bryce stepped outside first. “We’ve got company, Charlotte.”

She looked around, saw Ellie and John behind him, and a smile lit her face. Bryce knew Charlotte was hoping to hear the best kind of news, a wedding, and ached because he had no way to cushion the shock that was coming.

Her smile began to fade as she saw Paul behind them. She put aside her sketchbook. “What’s happened?”

John took a seat in front of her, leaning forward, hands clasped before him. “Remember how I said some news you hear and then later feel? I need you prepared to do that now.”

She slowly nodded.

“A photo has shown up of you from back then. A man’s hand on your shoulder. It’s proof a third man was there, Charlotte.”

Her hand still holding a pencil trembled violently. “I need to see the photo,” she whispered.

Paul offered an envelope.

Bryce squeezed her shoulder gently, steadying her, took the envelope from Paul, and handed it to her. She pulled out the photo, flinched, then went totally still. She studied the image carefully, thinking hard. “I don’t remember the photo being taken, or the man.” She looked at John. “I don’t remember.”

“Okay.”

She rubbed at her forehead. Shook her head. “I don’t remember.” She pushed it back into the envelope and returned it to Paul.

“We’ve identified him from the hand injury, Charlotte,” Paul said quietly. “His name is Christopher Caleb Cox.”

She lost even more color. “Tabitha’s Christopher.”

“Yes.”

She pushed out of the chair, then surprised Bryce by moving into his space, securing a tight grip on his hand. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“He is wanted in California in connection with the homicide of a young woman who worked at his law firm,” Paul replied. “The FBI also wants him for the theft of five million dollars from an escrow account controlled by the law firm. He’s been missing for nine years now. It’s believed he arranged a new identity for himself using the expertise of one of his criminal clients and disappeared. He’s never resurfaced.”

“You can’t find him.”

Bryce heard the faint panic ripple into her words. “Easy,” he murmured, trying to reassure, wishing she could accept a hug right now so he could do a better job of it.

“Give me a few days to better evaluate the search that has been done before I try to answer that, Charlotte.” Paul said.

“You have his photo, John?” Bryce asked.

“Everyone around Charlotte and Tabitha knows what he looks like.”

Charlotte studied the paving stones, her jaw working as she fought to keep the emotions in check. She finally looked over at Paul. “You can’t tell Tabitha he was using her. That the man she trusted, had a crush on, was involved in this. It destroys Tabitha if you say that. You’ll make her his final victim.”

“I’ve got people looking at the homicide case and seeing how strong it is,” Paul said, “someone looking at the embezzlement case. If we can put him in jail for life on those crimes, we can leave this photo in the secure files and not pursue it as a trial matter. But Gage has the image. He’s the one who found the photo. Christopher Caleb Cox is on video with your sister numerous times. Gage will figure it out, eventually find a name the same way we did.”

Charlotte rubbed her eyes. “I can divert Gage from using it.” She looked back at Paul. “Gage leaves the specifics about the third man out of his book in return for an interview about what happened to baby Connor.”

“It’s your butterfly pin.”

She simply nodded.

“I’d like to hear those details as well,” Paul said. “It’s doubtful Gage will take that deal.”

“It’s worth asking him. Could you prosecute Christopher for his part in the baby Connor case, for his part in mine, based on what you have today?”

Paul thought about it and finally shook his head. “Not without your testimony, and even then the evidence is thin.”

“Then please file the photo and don’t pursue it. There are reasons I don’t talk about what happened. My sister leads that list. I can’t testify.”

“Let’s take this one step at a time. We find him. And you find out if Gage will keep the information quiet.”

Charlotte looked over at John. “Christopher changed his name, he disappeared. But I bet he left at least one person alive who knows something about his new name or where he is, who might talk for the right dollar amount. Bryce can write some very large checks.”

“I’ve already got tickets to California,” John said. “I’m hopeful, Charlotte. But this isn’t going to be quick. You need to brace for several weeks of waiting, if not longer.”

“I know how to wait.” She glanced around the group. “If that’s all, I’d like to take a walk with Ellie.” She took Paul’s nod as agreement, then left with Ellie.

Bryce showed the last of their guests out, then locked up the house and reset security. He noted two more security personnel now visible on the grounds, the first of a wave of tightened security John had warned him was coming—around their home, his family, Charlotte. He would have to call his parents tomorrow, figure out something plausible for an explanation.

Bryce took two mugs of hot chocolate upstairs with him. Ellie and Charlotte had walked for over an hour before Charlotte had returned and headed upstairs. It had shaken his wife more to realize she couldn’t remember the photo than the terrible memory of what that day must have been like.

He tapped on her door and leaned against the doorjamb. She was painting her toenails. He recognized the concentration of a woman trying to focus on the totally mundane. “You could have been drunk, Charlotte. That’s why you don’t remember. It might not be anything worse than that.”

“Do you believe that’s all it is?”

He wished he could lie to her. “No.” The truth was probably something much more ugly.

“Neither do I.” She rose to come get the mug. “Thank you for the hot chocolate.”

“Do you want to call Tabitha?”

“I can’t. She would hear in my voice that something is wrong. Best case, Tabitha never hears even a whisper about this.”

“They will find him.”

“The one thing I am certain of,” she replied, trying to smile, “is that the FBI wants him, so do the California cops, and it’s personal with John. I pity the man in a way. John isn’t a man you want coming after you.” She carefully sipped the hot chocolate. “You knew about the photo. You weren’t surprised when John told me.”

“They’ve had it for a couple of days while they verified its authenticity and who he was.”

She absorbed that news, nodded. “Thanks for giving me some days without having to know it was out there.”

“Sure.” Bryce could feel the politeness of the conversation, knew it was the last thing they needed, but didn’t know what he could say that would get her to shift to give him more. “Charlotte, I wish I could make this go away, not have it be part of your history.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You want to talk awhile?”

She tipped her head toward her nightstand. “I’m planning to finish that book and then turn in. I’m tired enough that sleep is not going to be a problem tonight, Bryce. It feels like I got punched. I just need the time to wear it off.”

“This is going to be over—fully over the first time in nineteen years.”

“You know, I believe it will be.” She set aside her mug. “I’m going to go see Gage in the morning.”

“Want company?”

“For the drive over. It needs to be a private conversation.”

“I disagree with Paul’s assessment. I think he’ll take the deal.”

“We’ll know tomorrow.”

His bedside table clock said two a.m. Bryce added a sweatshirt to the jeans, put his phone in his pocket, slipped on socks. He went downstairs to find his wife.

“Scoot over.” He made room for himself on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. She had come downstairs so he wouldn’t hear her crying. “I love you,” he said.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered achingly.

“It’s an explanation, not an expectation. I love you, and I have chosen to spend my life with you. I don’t want to be somewhere else. So as hard as life gets for you, as tough as the emotions are to deal with, you and I are okay. I don’t need you to try to keep up a good front for my sake. If you need to come apart, if that’s the fastest way through this grief, then loosen that grip of control you’re trying to keep, and let the grief come. It won’t last forever, Charlotte, and life will be better on the other side. You and I will be fine. Trust me on that.”