“What was the name?” she said. He’d made a point of staying at the counter, not sitting in the sitting area. The immediacy of the situation would help move things along. Nobody wanted some person with a need hovering around. And this girl was too much of a mouse to get rude, to call her manager.
“Paula Carr,” he said.
She turned to smile at him, put a finger to her mouth as she made him a key card. “They’re in Room 206.”
He gave her a wide smile, pulled one of the roses from the bouquet, and handed it to her.
The woman started to giggle, girlish and sweet. “Oh!” she said.
“Thank you so much,” he said. “I can’t even tell you. You just saved my life.”
The hallway was quiet except for the sound of someone’s television, the volume up too high. That always aggravated him, people who kept the volume up too loud, like the people who put their seats all the way back on airplanes. Or the people who let the door close behind them in a public place without looking to see if there was someone there. What was wrong with those people? Inconsiderateness was a national blight.
She’d have the secondary latch on as well. But he’d found a video on YouTube about how to unlatch a chain with a rubber band. There was a tool that looked like a crowbar, which easily undid the folding metal latch. He had one of those, too. Something he’d fashioned himself in the garage.
He’d have the upper hand. She wouldn’t hurt him in front of Claire and Cameron. And if she called the police, he’d accuse her of kidnapping the children, tell them how depressed she was, that he was afraid of what she’d do to herself and their babies. She’d get hysterical, and they would believe him. People always believed Kevin Carr. Not that he wanted the kids; they were a major pain in the ass. But it would be worth it to really zing it to Paula.
He stood at the door, put his ear against the cool surface, and heard only silence. He put the roses and his bag down on the floor and took the key from his pocket.
“What do you think you’re doing, son?”
He didn’t recognize the man at the end of the hall.
“Excuse me?”
The guy reminded Kevin of a side of beef, tall and solid. He wore a barn jacket and a pair of jeans, thick brown lace-up boots.
“I said, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m not sure it’s any of your business.”
The other man smiled a bit. “I disagree.”
Kevin lifted his palms. “I think there must be some misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so,” said the other man. He was moving slowly down the hallway now. “You need to step away from the door and keep your hands where I can see them.”
He was one of
“My name is Jones Cooper. You wanted me to find your wife,” he said. “Well, I found her.”
It took Kevin a second to place the name. He
“Look,” said Kevin. He lifted the roses. “Thanks, but Paula and I have worked things out.”
“No,” said Jones. He had a kind of snide half smile on his face. “You haven’t.”
Kevin heard the siren grow loud and come to a stop somewhere outside. The door opened then, and Paula stepped into the door frame.
“This woman kidnapped my children,” he said. He took his voice up an octave. “I’m here to get them back. She’s suffering from postpartum depression. I’m terrified of what she’ll do to herself and our babies.”
Paula just stared at him. “You’re a liar, Kevin.”
“Where are my children?” he yelled. He even managed to force some tears down his face. A door opened up down the hall; a man with tousled hair stuck his head out and then disappeared quickly.
“They’re safe,” she said. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I have a lawyer now.”
He turned to look at her, but she was stone cold.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” said Kevin. He turned back to Jones. “You can’t call the police.”
“You threatened me with a gun,” said Paula. “I fled in fear for my life. And now you’ve come after me.”
Someone had obviously coached her, told her what to say. Ever since she’d started having kids, she’d been so foggy and addled. She didn’t seem that way now, more like she had when he’d first met her.
“That’s a lie,” he said. “She’s the one with the gun.”
“I have documented your affair.” Paula went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “I have printed copies of e-mails to your girlfriend and the lies you’ve been telling about me. I also know that you’ve been stealing money from your company to pay your debts.”
How could she know that?
“Meanwhile, today I had a little chat with Robin O’Conner,” said Jones. “I know what you did to her.”
The elevator door opened then, and two uniformed officers stepped out, a bald and lanky black man and a petite blond female. Both rested their hands on the large semiautomatics at their waists. Behind them the girl from the counter emerged, along with a man who looked like he must be her manager.
“That’s him,” said Caroline. Her warm smile and goo-goo eyes were gone.
Jones stepped to the side.
“Everyone needs to keep their hands where we can see them,” said the female officer.
Kevin had had moments like this before, ugly, dark moments when he was backed into a corner. The sinking hole in his center opened. It was the place where all the selves he created and put out there met. And there, where the real Kevin should have been, there was nothing.
chapter thirty-six
Ray was waiting for her in the driveway when she got home. She pulled up beside him and saw that he was sleeping. The car was running with the heat on, and he had his head leaned back, his mouth gaping open. He could have gone inside. The door was unlocked.
She got out of the car and walked over to his Cadillac, tapped on the window. He startled awake, looked over at her, and frowned. He rolled down the window.
“Where were you? Out partying with your new best friend, Jones Cooper?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “Do you want to come in?”
He turned off the car and followed her into the house. Oliver greeted her at the door, immediately started purring and weaving himself between her legs. She’d forgotten to feed him.
As she opened up some food for Oliver and changed his water, Eloise told Ray about her night. He made some coffee while she did, even though it was way too late for coffee.
“I thought you were retiring,” said Ray. He hadn’t looked at her the whole time she was talking. He’d busied himself fussing with the cabinet door that always came off its hinge. He’d pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and was trying to tighten the screw, his brow furrowed with concentration.
“Vacationing is not the same thing as retiring,” she answered. She checked the lock on the back door and the window over the sink. “Anyway, what choice did I have? I couldn’t just let him drown.”
“I thought you had a policy about speaking your vision but not getting physically involved. You know, after what happened in Kansas.”
She didn’t like to think about Kansas. “I changed my policy,” she said. “Just this once.”
