“That’s right.”
There were patients and visitors, doctor and nurses, all sorts of people moving to and fro. There were
“You said it to me on the phone,” Edna went on. “When you asked me to look up Aimee’s records. Protect the innocent. That’s all I was trying to do. But when she vanished, you blamed yourself. You felt obligated to find her. You started digging.”
“And when I got too close, you had to cut your losses.”
“Yes.”
“So you let her go.”
“I had no choice. Everything went to hell. Once you got involved, people started dying.”
“You’re not blaming me for that, are you?”
“No, and I’m not blaming me either,” she said, head high. “I never killed anyone. I never asked Harry Davis to switch transcripts. I never asked Jake Wolf to pay anybody off. I never asked Randy Wolf to sell drugs. I never told my son to sleep with a student. And I didn’t tell Aimee Biel to get pregnant with his baby.”
Myron said nothing.
“You want to take it another step?” Her voice edged up a notch. “I didn’t tell Drew to pull a gun on Jake Wolf. Just the opposite. I tried to keep my son calm, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. Maybe I should have. But Drew had always been such a screw-up. So I just told him to relax. That Aimee would be okay. But he didn’t listen. He thought Jake Wolf must have done something to her. So he went after him. My guess is, the wife was telling the truth. She shot him in self-defense. That’s how my son ended up dead. But I didn’t do any of that.”
Myron waited. Her lips were trembling, but Edna fought through it. She would not collapse. She would not show weakness, not even now when it was all unraveling, when her actions not only failed to produce the desired results but had ended the life of her own son.
“All I wanted to do was save my grandchild’s life,” she said. “How else could I have done it?”
Myron still didn’t reply.
“Well?”
“I don’t know.”
“Please.” Edna Skylar clutched his arm as if it were a life preserver. “What is she going to do about the baby?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You’ll never be able to prove any of this.”
“That’s up to the police. I just wanted to keep my promise.”
“What promise?”
Myron looked down the corridor and called out, “It’s okay now.”
When Aimee Biel stepped into view, Edna Skylar gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Erik was there too, on one side of Aimee. Claire stood on the other. They both had their arms around their daughter.
Myron walked away then, smiling. His step felt light. Outside the sun would still be shining. He knew that. The radio would play his favorite songs. He had the whole conversation on tape — yes, he’d lied to her about that — and he’d give it to Muse and Banner. They might make a case. They might not.
You do what you can.
Erik nodded at Myron as he passed. Claire reached out to him. There were tears of gratitude in her eyes. Myron touched her hand but he kept moving. Their eyes met. He saw her as a teen again, in high school, in the study hall. But none of that mattered anymore.
He had made a promise to Claire. He had promised to bring back her baby.
And now, at long last, he had.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Over the past six years, the one question I always get on the road is, “How tall are you?” The answer: Six- four. But the second most common question is, “When are you going to bring Myron and the gang back?” The answer: Now. I’ve always said that I wouldn’t force his return, that I’d wait for the right idea. Well, the right idea came, but your encouragement and enthusiasm inspired and touched me. So first acknowledgment — to those who missed Myron, Win, Esperanza, Big Cyndi, El-Al and the rest of this motley crew. Hope you had fun. And for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, there are seven other novels featuring Myron Bolitar. Go to HarlanCoben.com for more information.
This is my fourth book working with Mitch Hoffman as my editor and Lisa Johnson as my everything else. They both rock. Brian Tart, Susan Petersen Kennedy, Erika Kahn, Hector DeJean, Robert Kempe, and everyone at Dutton rock too. Lots of rocking. Thanks also to Jon Wood, Susan Lamb, Malcolm Edwards, Aaron Priest, and Lisa Erbach Vance.
David Gold, M.D., had helped me with medical research on a lot of books. This time he even gets his name mentioned as a character. You’re a good friend, David.
Christopher J. Christie, the U.S. Attorney for the state of New Jersey, provides great and wonderfully twisted legal insights. I’ve known Chris since we played Little League together when we were ten. For some reason, he does not put that on his resume.
I’m grateful to the Clarke family — Ray, Maureen, Andrew, Devin, Jeff, and Garrett — for inspiring the idea. The boys have always been open with me about what it’s like to be a kid, a teenager, and now young men. I thank them for it.
Lastly, thanks to Linda Fairstein, Dyan Machan, and, of course, Anne Armstrong-Coben, M.D. Too much brains and beauty — that’s the problem with all three of you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Winner of the Edgar Award, the Shamus Award, and the Anthony Award, Harlan Coben is the author of twelve previous novels, including the
