Chương 14
“Because Richard would never willingly give it to Laura.”
“You could have taken it.”
“Richard had started watching me.”
“So you used a child.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You scared him.”
“Yes.”
“He still won’t sit in the back of an SUV.”
Daniel looked at her.
Something moved in his face.
Good.
She wanted that wound to exist.
“He’ll remember you,” Claire said. “Not the bribery. Not the hotel. Not whatever moral story you tell yourself. He’ll remember the man who put him in a car when he was scared.”
Daniel’s eyes lowered.
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
He almost smiled.
“Family phrase?”
“Apparently.”
Silence.
Claire said, “Did you help Mom because you cared about her?”
Daniel thought.
“At first, because I hated Richard.”
“Why?”
“Richard was everything I wanted to become until I became useful enough to see what that required.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It probably is.”
“Try again.”
Daniel looked at the scratched plastic beside the phone.
“I was jealous.”
Claire waited.
“Of my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He had money. Authority. A family. People forgave him.”
Claire laughed softly.
“That aged badly.”
“Yes.”
Daniel continued.
“I thought if I became indispensable, eventually I’d become equal.”
“Did you?”
“No. I became indispensable.”
“And Mom?”
“She saw me.”
Claire felt something harden.
“Careful.”
“Not romantically.”
“Good.”
“She saw that I was afraid of him.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why serve him?”
“Because fear and ambition can look identical for a long time.”
Claire hated that the sentence sounded true.
“What happened in Room 317?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Your father knows.”
“I’m asking you.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Steven grabbed Laura. Richard let it happen longer than he admits.”
“How long?”
“Maybe twenty seconds.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“He wanted her frightened.”
“Did you stop it?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually.”
“Yes.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You let it happen too.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Yes.”
That answer mattered more than an apology.
“Then Mom hit Steven.”
“Yes.”
“What happened after?”
“Richard told me to clean the room.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
“Why did Mom stay with him three more weeks?”
Daniel looked through the glass.
“Because leaving a powerful person is not one decision.”
Claire thought of her mother across the street from a school she could not enter.
“Did Dad know you staged her disappearance?”
“No.”
“Did you ever tell him?”
“Not until three years ago.”
Claire froze.
“He knows you helped?”
“Yes.”
“That contradicts what he told me.”
“I imagine a lot of things do.”
“What happened three years ago?”
Daniel leaned back.
“Laura contacted me for the key. I tried to get it. Richard caught me in his office.”
“And?”
“I told him.”
“Why?”
“Because he was going to call the police and I had no good lie.”
“What did he do?”
“Hit me.”
Claire blinked.
“Dad?”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“He’s better at it than you.”
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
“What else?”
“He asked where she was.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because by then I understood that helping Laura disappear was the only decent thing I had done in years.”
Claire stared at him.
“You took a hundred and seventy thousand dollars.”
Daniel’s expression did not change.
“Eighty.”
“What?”
“Eighty thousand. Laura got the rest.”
“That makes you feel better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“She needed rent, identification documents, treatment.”
“Treatment?”
“Rehab.”
Claire had not known.
Daniel continued.
“She checked into a private program under her maiden name two days after the bridge.”
“Did Dad know?”
“No.”
“Did you visit?”
“Once.”
“Why?”
“To make sure she hadn’t died.”
Claire looked at him.
For the first time, Daniel’s voice lost its smoothness.
“She was bad, Claire.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that I thought helping her disappear might have been the same as helping her die.”
Claire looked down.
“Then why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because she asked me not to.”
“That’s weak.”
“Yes.”
“And because you’d go to prison.”
Daniel gave a small nod.
“Yes.”
There it was.
No one had saved Laura cleanly.
No one had betrayed her cleanly either.
“What does the suitcase mean?”
Daniel frowned.
“What suitcase?”
“The red suitcase.”
Understanding appeared slowly.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“That was hers from before you were born.”
“I know.”
“She kept it.”
“Why?”
Daniel smiled in a way Claire did not like.
“You should ask her.”
Claire did.
Laura was quiet for a long time.
They were in her studio.
Rain tapped the window.
Ethan sat on the floor building a model car.
Laura folded a dish towel, unfolded it, then folded it again.
“It was the suitcase I packed the night I almost left Richard the first time.”
Claire looked at her.
“When?”
“You were six.”
Claire felt a strange grief for a childhood event she had never known was happening.
“Why didn’t you?”
“You got sick.”
“What?”
“You had the flu.”
“That stopped you?”
“For that night.”
“And after?”
Laura put the towel down.
“After, Richard apologized.”
Claire nodded.
Of course.
“He promised counseling.”
“Did you go?”
“Twice.”
“Then?”
“He said the therapist hated him.”
“Did she?”
Laura smiled.
“Probably.”
Claire smiled too.
Then it faded.
“You kept the suitcase.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer pleased Claire more than symbolism would have.
Sometimes people kept luggage because it was luggage.
Laura said, “When I decided to come back, I wanted you to know it was me before you saw me.”
“So you sent the suitcase.”
“Yes.”
“And then you ran.”
“Yes.”
Claire leaned back.
“You are astonishingly consistent.”
Laura winced.
“I deserved that.”
“Probably.”
A month later, Richard asked Claire to visit him.
Not at the house.
The house had become a siege of reporters and attorneys.
He had rented an apartment near the lake.
Claire went alone.
Richard opened the door wearing jeans.
She had seen him wear jeans before.
She had never seen him look uncertain in them.
The apartment was nearly empty.
Rental furniture.
A television still wearing a shipping sticker.
May you like
Two wineglasses on the kitchen counter but no wine.
“You want coffee?” he asked.
