“I’m afraid they do.” Abby glanced at the door. “There are two agents tailing you now. I saw them window- shopping near Williams-Sonoma when I left.”
“I didn’t see anybody.”
“You’re not trained to see them. The good news is, they’re both male.”
“How is that good news?”
“If there was a woman on the detail, she might come in here. Our gentlemen friends will probably be discreet enough to stay outside.” Abby gave her a discerning look. “You seem pretty frazzled. How are you holding up?”
“Not too well. I hardly slept at all, and when I did, I had these terrible dreams. I dreamed the men were breaking in again, with ski masks and guns, and you weren’t there to protect me…” She ran a hand through her hair, pulling distractedly at the locks.
“You don’t need worry about that now,” Abby said. “No one’s going to get into the house again. Not with the FBI looking out for you.”
“Looking out for me.” Andrea almost laughed. “Yes, sure. Until they decide to arrest me for using a false identity.”
“You won’t go to prison for that. And although the FBI may be somewhat interested in you, they’re a lot more interested in Congressman Reynolds.”
Andrea felt a rush of blood from her head. She held on to a sink to steady herself. “But they can’t know… they can’t…”
“They do.”
“How can they? Nobody knows. I never told…”
“Don’t worry about that now. They know about it, and so do I. But you need to tell me something about your relationship with Reynolds.”
“What?”
Before Abby could answer, the door opened and a woman walked in. The two of them busied themselves at the sinks, taking an inordinate amount of time to soap up and rinse off their hands before drying them. Finally the woman left. Abby picked up the conversation as if there had been no interruption.
“Any significant detail. Something that only you and he would know.”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“Don’t ask for whys and wherefores. I’m asking you trust me. Which I guess you do, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes. I do trust you.” Andrea realized this was true. It was the first time in twenty years that she had trusted anyone. The thought seemed to lighten her burden just a little. “All right. When he and I were… dating, we used to meet a lot of times on his boat.”
“Where was the boat?”
“In the marina at Newport Beach.”
“What was the name of it?”
“ The Mariner. It was an old boat he bought secondhand, and he used to call it the ancient Mariner. Funny how I remember that. I haven’t thought of it in a long time.”
For a moment the old days came back to her, the liaisons at the marina, hours of intimacy in the cramped quarters below deck, then the quiet time afterward when, in darkness, they would share a drink under the stars and watch the water ripple against the mossy pylons of the dock.
She caught Abby watching her with sympathy. “We always have nostalgia,” Abby said in a low voice, “even for the things we regret.”
Andrea nodded.
“Thanks for the info,” Abby added more briskly. “Now get a bite to eat at the food court. Otherwise your friends may wonder why you came up here. Then go home and stay put. And keep that phone close to you. I’ll be calling later.”
“You have some kind of plan, don’t you?”
“I always have a plan.” Abby hesitated. “In this case, I may need you to act fast.”
“To do what?”
“To get away from the watchful eyes of the federal bureaucracy. Don’t worry. It’s easier than it sounds.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will, eventually. In the meantime you’ll just have to go on trusting me, if you can.”
“I can. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“I’ve done such bad things. I’m not sure I deserve your help.”
“We’ve all done bad things. I know I have.”
Andrea met her eyes. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
Abby didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
“Did they deserve it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that makes it all right, then.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Andrea looked away. “The ones I killed… they didn’t deserve …”
“I know.”
“What I did-it’s something you go to hell for. I think about that sometimes. Being in hell.”
“Seems to me you’re already there.”
“I’m only punishing myself, that’s all.”
“That can be the worst kind of punishment.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s enough. I don’t know if anything can ever be enough.”
A beat of silence passed between them. “Andrea,” Abby said quietly, “can I ask you something? You could’ve told the world about Jack Reynolds, ruined him, ended his career. But you never did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“He got to me while I was in the hospital. He was the D.A., and he used his credentials to get in and talk to me alone.”
“And he threatened you?”
“No. What did he have to threaten me with? I’d already lost everything.”
“Then what…?”
“He told me-he told me he still loved me.” Her voice broke on the last words. “He told me he’d been wrong to break up with me. That he’d been planning to take me back-until everything happened.”
“Did you believe him?”
She heard the skepticism in Abby’s question. “I know what you’re asking. How could I be so naive?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I did believe him. He said he forgave me for the children. He said it was all right. He said I hadn’t been myself when I did it. And that I shouldn’t blame myself or think of it as a sin.”
“I see.”
“He’s the only one who said anything like that. To everyone else I was the devil incarnate. Medea, the witch. But he told me it was all right. And they were his children. He’s the last person who should ever have forgiven me- but he did.”
“Yes.” Abby’s voice was very low. “He did.”
“It wasn’t just talk. He helped me, too. He arranged it so I was declared incompetent to stand trial. If I’d been put on trial, I would have been sent to prison for life. As it was, I went into the hospital, and I was out in twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“I never would have survived prison. Do you know what they do in there to-to people who’ve killed children? He saved my life.”
“I guess he did.”
