Warren seemed to be working something out in his head. “Through Vida, I guess. Vida’s got a vested interest in protecting her relationship with Kyle.”
Laurel saw where this was going. “Warren, don’t try to bend things around to fit your preconceptions. Look at the facts. You obviously didn’t even know who was telling you this stuff. What if Nell has an ulterior motive herself?”
“Like what?”
“Maybe she’s in love with you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why? She’s young and single, and you’re a handsome doctor, her boss-”
“I’m not going to listen to that crap. Nell is the only good person in that whole snake pit. She doesn’t even belong there.”
“She can be a good person and still do not-so-good things. And anybody can be mistaken about things they see or hear.”
Warren raised his eyebrows. “Well, she’s apparently heard that Kyle is planning to run away with someone. A new girlfriend, she said. And that seems to square with the two hundred grand in bonds hidden in our safe room. Guatemalan bonds, huh? Were you planning to take our children with you?”
Laurel suddenly realized that reason would never get her out of this. No matter what facts surfaced, Warren would find a way to fit them into his betrayal scenario. “Listen to me. I’m not going to discuss Kyle anymore. I haven’t had sex with him, I don’t even like him, and I can’t answer any of your questions. I don’t know what those bonds are doing here, or the ledgers, or anything else. I know
Warren looked at his watch for a long time, as though calculating the number of hours he’d been awake. Laurel guessed thirty-four. How rational could anyone be after that kind of sleep deprivation? He yawned as if trying to swallow his head with his own mouth, stretching his arms back until his shoulders popped.
“Do you want to see the kids?” he asked.
She looked at him in disbelief. “You’re going to untie me?”
“If you promise to behave.”
“Can I clean up before they see me?”
“You worry too much about your looks. We go upstairs as is, or forget it.”
Laurel wasn’t sure she should let the kids see her in her present state. But somewhere in the back of her brain simmered a fear that she might not survive this encounter. “Okay.”
With a quick turn of the dials, Warren opened the bike lock. One moment she was a chained prisoner, the next she was free. Free to move, at least. She was still a prisoner.
She’d expected to be led straight upstairs, but he took her arm and walked her back to the great room, where her laptop sat clicking on the coffee table. Interposing himself between Laurel and the machine, he looked down at the screen to check the progress of the password-cracking program. Around his back, Laurel saw the Hotmail log-in page superimposed in miniature over a background page, which showed a gray-bearded wizard staring wisely up from the screen. Lightning flashed from the staff in his hand, but what held Laurel’s attention was the numerical ticker below the wizard. It was seven digits long, and the last three digits were increasing almost too fast to see, like the digital readout of a gas pump filling a bottomless tank. Above this, a line of asterisks filled the PASSWORD field of the Hotmail log-in page, and a red error message read SIGN IN FAILED. The asterisks and letters appeared to be permanent, but as Laurel stared, she realized that they were blinking so rapidly that she almost could not detect it. Somehow, the cracker program had disabled the feature that kicked people off after ten failed attempts. She felt as though a ghostly robot were sitting at her computer, trying to break into her e-mail account at the speed of light.
“Any minute now,” Warren said, glancing around at her. “Nervous?”
She turned away. “Let’s go see the kids.”
“Yes. Let’s do that.”
He led her up the front stairs, only letting go of her arm when they reached the top. Laurel heard the TV blaring through the closed door of the kids’ playroom. She tried to steel herself, but she knew she would cry when she saw them. She had once burst into tears upon seeing them after a five-day education seminar in Dallas. She expected Warren to warn her in some way, but he simply pocketed his gun, opened the door, and cried, “Hey, hey! Look who’s here!”
Laurel heard a scuttling sound to her left, but saw nothing there. Her eyes were drawn to the couch, where Grant lay sprawled on his back watching the big-screen TV. He’d changed his royal blue school uniform shirt for a ripped GIRL skateboard T-shirt, and his New Balances for Adios with stripped black laces. On the screen before him, Tony Hawk leaped and spun over the lip of a massive half-pipe, which Grant never tired of begging Warren to build in the backyard.
“Hey, Mom,” Grant said, moving his eyes but nothing else. “How’s your headache?”
“A little better,” Warren said quickly. “She’s not over it yet. Where’s your sister?”
“Over
Beth jumped out from behind the closet door. Laurel had to cover her mouth to hide the pain that pierced her at the sight. Beth was wearing the Snow White costume Laurel had bought her during their last trip to Disney World. Not the cheap one-piece costume, but the full-blown ensemble of yellow satin and dark blue velvet, with bright red ribbons like the ones in the Disney classic. Beth’s proud smile and flashing eyes made her look impossibly alive and happy, like a character who had leaped out of a movie herself.
“How do I
Laurel bit her lip and knelt before her daughter. “Did you put this on all by yourself, Snow White?”
Beth curtsied with elaborate ceremony.
“I helped,” Grant said from the couch.
“No, you didn’t!” Beth cried.
Grant shrugged.
“He just tied my bow,” Beth explained. “Nothing else.”
“Shut up, Butt Face.”
Grant broke up at this.
“Stop provoking her,” Warren snapped. Then he looked down at Beth. “And you stop saying ‘Butt Face,’ young lady.”
“Well, he is.”
As Grant stifled more laughter, Laurel hugged her daughter as tightly as she dared. “Mama?” Beth’s small voice in her ear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine now, baby. I just had to see you.”
“I don’t want your head to hurt.”
Hot tears slid down Laurel’s cheeks. She bent her neck and wiped her cheeks on Beth’s cape. Then she pulled away.
“Mama, you’re hands are all sticky. And your mascara’s running!”
Laurel stuck out her bottom lip and blew air over her face, hoping to dry the tears. “It’s just my headache, darling. Are you guys all right for food and stuff?”
“I’m hungry,” Grant said. “Can we come down and mikeywave something?”
“Not yet,” said Warren. “I’ll bring something up to you in a minute. But first we need to talk.”
A frisson of fear went through Laurel’s chest. She turned to Warren, but he wasn’t looking at her. He took Beth’s hand and led her over to the sofa, where Grant lay.
“Sit up, Son,” he said. “Come on, get your behind in gear. This is a family conference.”
Grant groaned loudly. “But I’m
Laurel wanted to bolt from the room. She saw now that Warren had brought her up here not to ease her mind, but to torture her more painfully than he ever could downstairs. Grant and Beth sat side by side on the sofa, their upturned faces curious but unworried. Snow White and a skateboard prince. A more innocent pair of angels she could not imagine. Warren pulled two chairs over in front of the couch and sat facing the kids, then motioned for her to join him.
