“Withdrawing, leaving.”
“No, no.” Sam shook his head. “I have a job to do, just like you do, and this makes the most sense to me. I don’t want to hang around like a puppy dog, waiting for you to come home.”
“But you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.” Sam started to go, and Jill felt a twinge of anger.
“This isn’t what I want.”
“Yes, it is.” Sam turned at the head of the stair, in front of his lineup of photographs, all of them taken in happier times. “It must be, because it’s the logical result of what you’re doing. You couldn’t have set it up any better.”
Jill was suddenly tired of his research jargon. “Not everything is a controlled experiment, Sam.”
“Then choose.”
“What?”
“Choose now. I can tell you, now, that I don’t want to parent Abby, in any way, shape, or form.”
“She’s missing, Sam. Can’t we stay in the present?”
“Can’t we plan, for the future?” Sam frowned, deeply. “Think ahead to when she comes back, or you find her. Tell me how you’re going to replace the father and mother she lost. Explain how you’re going to shore up a troubled kid who’s already tried to kill herself once. Choose, now. Last chance. Pick that family, or this one.”
“Why do I have to choose?” Jill asked, agonized.
“You just did,” Sam answered, turning away.
Chapter Forty-two
Jill felt empty and hurting, disconnected, loosed from her moorings. But she had to make herself act, given that Abby was still missing. She changed quickly into comfy jeans, a sweater, and loafers, and went downstairs. She thought she should go back to the Philly police or touch base with Victoria, but she wasn’t sure which to do first.
She went to the phone in the kitchen and pressed in Megan’s number. The phone rang, and she sat down at the island, tugged the laptop over, and moved the mouse to wake it up. Her email server popped on the screen, and she scanned her email again to see if Rahul’s results had come in, but they still hadn’t.
“Mom?” Megan said, when the call connected. “Why are you calling from the house phone?”
“My BlackBerry’s broken.”
“Is that why you didn’t get back to me? I called and texted, so don’t get mad.”
Jill could hear the attitude in her tone. “So what’s up? You guys having fun?”
“No, working on this dumb project. Did you find Abby?”
“Not yet, but don’t worry about that. Did you eat?”
“Yes, Courtney’s mom made lasagna.”
“Yum.” Jill’s stomach growled. “Wish I were there.”
“Sam said I could stay over, even though it’s a school night.”
“I know, but let’s make this the last time, okay?” Jill knew she had said the same thing, just yesterday or so.
“What’s the big deal? We’re working, Mom.”
“Don’t be fresh. How will you get to school?”
“Carol can take me.”
“Since when do you call her Carol? Call her Mrs. Ariz.” Jill adored Courtney’s mother, Carol, and they’d been friends since the girls made the club swim team, years ago. “Be sure to thank her for me. She’s doing a lot of the driving lately.”
“She doesn’t mind.”
“Why don’t I take you both to school, then she can pick up, since I can’t?”
“She’s fine with it, Mom.”
“Okay, but what are you going to do for clothes? I can bring you some fresh ones, then take you to school.”
“Mom, no.” Megan sighed, in an exaggerated way. “I borrowed some from Courtney, and Sam brought me some, too. He was coming home early to pack for his trip, so he brought over my stuff.”
Jill rubbed her face, sick at heart. She couldn’t imagine telling Megan that their engagement was off. “I really wish you were home.”
“I’m fine here.”
Jill sighed. “Goodnight, then. I love you.”
“Goodnight. Love you, too.”
“Fine, and don’t forget—” Jill started to say, then the line went dead. She pressed END and called information for Victoria’s phone number, because it was in her BlackBerry, now defunct. She waited for the call to connect, and while it rang, she logged onto whitepages.com and plugged in Nina D’Orive, then New York.
“Jill?” Victoria answered. “Did Abby call you?”
“No, didn’t she call you?”
“Oh, no.” Victoria still sounded remote, but distinctly worried. “Now, this is really scary.”
“I agree. I’d have called your cell, but my BlackBerry’s broken.” Jill read the laptop monitor, and the website had found three Nina D’Orives. She clicked on the first one, and it showed a Nina D’Orive at 335 Winding Way, Scarsdale, but her age was listed as sixty-seven. Jill eliminated her, surprised the website even gave ages. “What happened last night, at Central Detectives?”
“Nothing. Neither Detective Reed or Detective Pitkowski were in, so we left a message to call me.”
“Did they?”
“No.”
“We have to go back there.”
“I’ll go again, but what’s new? Nothing.”
“Not exactly.” Jill had decided on the train that Victoria was old enough for the truth about her father. “I did learn a thing or two in New York that might help them.”
“Like what?”
“It’s a long story, and I’d rather tell you in person.” Jill clicked on the next Nina D’Orive, who lived at 701 Young Street, Albany, and she was forty-five. It was unlikely that William would be dating somebody who lived so far upstate, so she eliminated that one, too. “Just meet me at Central Detectives, would you?”
“Sure. I’ll leave now.”
“Good. See you there, out front.” Jill hung up and clicked the final entry. Nina D’Orive, Apt 2F, East 94th Street, in New York. Her age was thirty, which would be more William’s taste, and Belle Kahan, the Realtor, had said that the girlfriend was young.
Jill felt her heart beat faster and clicked on the highlighted name. A grid popped onto the screen, showing D’Orive’s last known work addresses. The most recent was Pharmcen Pharmaceuticals.
Jill hit PRINT, jumped up, and went to get her bag.
Chapter Forty-three
Jill, Victoria, and her friend Brian Pendle sat across from Detective Ronald Hightower, who was a tall, fit, African-American in his forties, with short hair, knowing brown eyes, and a brushy mustache. Detective Pitkowski wasn’t in, Detective Reed was on vacation, and Jill was starting to think that Central Detectives was a group practice. She asked, “So if Detective Reed is on vacation, do you handle the case?”
“No, I don’t. There’s no case to be handled. We investigate homicide, and William Skyler’s death wasn’t ruled a homicide.” Detective Hightower had retrieved the file, and it lay open in front of him, on a desk that looked neat, with squared-off stacks of notes, files, and papers. His phone messages slips were arranged in layers, each overlapping the next, like napkins at a reception, and his manner exuded professionalism as he turned to Victoria. “Ms. Skyler, I’m sorry about your father’s passing. Don’t think me hard-hearted, but it’s not police business.”
“But Detective, doesn’t my sister being gone make a difference to you? It’s not like Abby not to return my calls for this long.” Victoria leaned forward urgently, looking more dressed-up than usual, with a black blazer over her white sweater and skinny jeans. Her hair was in its usual twist, her makeup was perfect, and she had on her pearl earrings. “Abby thought Dad was murdered, and I didn’t agree, but now I’m wondering. What if Abby found out something, or saw something? They lived together, and who knows?”
Jill knew it was time for the truth about William’s double life. She hadn’t told Victoria and Brian outside, when they’d met, because it hadn’t seemed like the place and time. Now it was, and Jill wished she could soften the blow for Victoria, but there was no way. “Detective
Hightower,” Jill began, “I have new information for you. I’m concerned that Abby’s disappearance is related to a Neil Straub, whom William said was his business associate, in New York. Well, he isn’t. Today I learned that Neil Straub and William Skyler are one and the same person.”
“What?” Victoria turned to Jill, her bright eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about? That’s a lie!”
“Are you crazy?” Brian frowned, stiffening in his striped tie and gray suit as if he’d come from the office.
“Dr. Farrow, what do you mean by that?” Detective Hightower asked, so Jill told them everything and showed them the photo of William with the man in the blue shirt, his Mercedes registration, and Nina D’Orive’s home address. Detective Hightower took notes, and Jill could see his concern growing. Victoria’s expression went from disbelief to disillusionment when she saw William’s signature on Neil Straub’s car registration. After Jill finished, she looked over at an anguished Victoria.
“I’m so sorry you had to hear all this, honey. I know it’s confusing, and strange.”
“Dad would never—” Victoria started to say, stricken, then stopped herself, her expression darkening. She shook her head, aghast. “I just don’t understand. This makes no sense. I don’t know why he would do this.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Jill felt the urge to touch her but didn’t know if it would be welcome. “I’m as shocked as you are. We can’t know everything about our parents, Victoria.”
“But this? A secret life? An apartment in the city? Double cars and everything?” Victoria’s manicured hand flew to her forehead, rubbing it and leaving pinkish streaks. “Dad is Neil Straub? That’s unreal!”
“I’m sorry, Vick.” Brian reached over and touched Victoria’s shoulder, his eyes an agonized blue behind his wire-rimmed glasses, and Jill could see how much he cared about her, which made Jill like him better.
“Victoria,” Jill said, softly, “your Dad must’ve gotten mixed up in something that made him want to disguise his identity, but let’s not dwell on that, now. The important thing is getting Abby home.” She turned to Detective Hightower. “I’m hoping that William’s girlfriend, Nina D’Orive, might have some idea where Abby is. Will you go and question her?”
“Correct, or NYPD will. We’ll have to iron out the jurisdictional issues.” Detective Hightower’s dark eyes softened. “Given these circumstances, I agree that Abby’s disappearance is concerning, and we’ll take it up with Missing Persons.”
“Thanks so much.” Jill almost cried with relief.
“Yes, thanks, Detective.” Victoria nodded, still upset. “I appreciate it. Abby’s my only sister, and we’re all we have…” Just then, a cell phone started ringing, and Victoria reached, embarrassed, into her large black handbag. “Sorry, I forgot to silence my phone.” She pulled out an iPhone, and her eyes widened when she saw the screen. “Oh my God, it’s Abby!” Victoria held up the phone, which showed a photo of a grinning Abby. “What do I do? What if she was kidnapped or something?”
“Answer it.” Detective Hightower rose and hustled around the desk. “Put it on speaker.”
Jill’s heart started to pound. “Can you trace it somehow, Detective Hightower?”
“No.” Detective Hightower waved at two other detectives, who were talking near the file cabinets in the back. “Guys, quiet a minute!”
Victoria hit the ANSWER button. Jill leaned over to listen from the left, and Brian leaned from the right, with Detective Hightower in the back.
“Abby?” Victoria answered the phone, uncertain. “Is that you? I have it on speaker because … my hands are full.”
“Hi, girl!” Abby said. “What’s up?”
Jill couldn’t believe her ears. It was Abby, and she sounded happy and carefree.
Victoria frowned, shaking her head in confusion. “Abby? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine, sorry.”
“Really, you’re fine? No one’s making you say this?”
Abby laughed. “What? Are you kidding?”
Victoria’s mouth dropped open. “This is really you? And you’re fine? I’ve been worried sick about you! Why didn’t you call me back?”
“I know, I should have called, I’m sorry.” Abby groaned. “But I knew what you’d say and I didn’t need you to yell at me.”
Jill sat, stunned. It didn’t sound as if some bad guy was holding a gun to Abby’s head, making her say these things. Brian leaned back, pursing his lips. Detective Hightower straightened up, waved the other detectives back to work, and strode to his chair, his lips tight.
Victoria said into the phone, “Where are you? What are you doing?”
“Jeez, sorry, I met someone.”
“Who?”
“A guy. His name’s Brandon, okay? He’s in the TV business and he was in town, scouting locations. He has an amazing apartment here, so we flew out and—”
“Flew where?”
“L.A.”
“Los Angeles?”
Jill couldn’t process it all fast enough. Brian folded his arms, his annoyance plain. Detective Hightower bent over his desk, writing notes in the file.
Victoria’s fair skin flushed with new anger, and she set the iPhone down on the desk. “Abby, are you kidding me right now? I thought you were dead.”
“I’m really sorry, I am.” Abby sounded genuinely regretful. “I’ve been so upset since Dad died, and I think I need a break, you know, to sort things out. Brandon said he can get me a job as a P.A., which means production assistant. I might come home in a week or so. I can’t decide when—”
“I cannot believe you played me this way. What the hell is the matter with you? We’re at the police station, they’re about to call Missing Persons. Jill’s here, too.”
Abby gasped. “Jill, for real? Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Jill!”
Jill leaned toward the phone. “Abby, what’s going on? Why didn’t you return my calls?”
“I did, today. I left a message, but you didn’t call me back.”
Jill flashed on her mashed-up BlackBerry. “My phone broke.”
“Jill, I’m so sorry, but you’d love Brandon. He doesn’t think I should live alone in the house, either. He says I need to start over and take responsibility for myself. That’s what you said, too.”
“I’m just trying to understand what’s going on with you. This is such an about-face. And how old is Brandon, anyway?”
“Older than me, but don’t worry about it. I feel so much better now, and you helped me, too. I’ll see you when I get back, and we can catch up. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Victoria snatched the iPhone from the desk. “Abby, I’m mad at you. When are you gonna grow up? Dad died, then you vanish? Do me a favor, will you? Stay in L.A. Live there with Brandon. You’re a selfish bitch!” Victoria hung up, jumped to her feet, and turned to Jill, red-faced. “You got me into this! I told you, I told you, I knew it! I should have listened to myself!”
“Honey, please, relax.” Jill reached for her arm, but Victoria edged away, holding up both hands.
“Back off! And for God’s sake, I’m not your ‘honey’!” Victoria shook with anger, and Jill thought she might faint.
“Let me get you some water.”
“No!” Victoria shot back, then exhaled, seeming to catch herself. “I’m sorry, Jill. I’m sorry. I know better. I knew better.” She balled her fingers into tight knots, like a tantruming child. “I hate my sister. There, I said it. I hate my sister.” She exhaled once, then again, her gaze taking in the other detectives and finally coming to rest on Detective Hightower. “Detective, I’m so sorry about all of this. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“It’s all right.” Detective Hightower’s tone had gone cool again. He rose, gesturing behind him. “Sure you don’t want that glass of water, or a soda? I’m buying.”
“No, thank you.” Victoria turned to Brian, bristling with emotion. “Time to go, don’t you think? Have I caused you enough embarrassment
?”
Brian rose, his expression sympathetic, and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Vick. It’s not in your control.”
Jill rose, too, looking at Detective Hightower, in confusion. “I’m sorry, I guess we thought she was missing, but still.”
“Still what?” Detective Hightower frowned. “I think that takes the wind out of your sails, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. It doesn’t mean anything with respect to William.” Jill tried to collect her thoughts. She was thrilled that Abby was safe, but what she’d learned today about William’s double life only made her more sure that he had been murdered. She found herself thinking like a doctor, deciding that the new data didn’t change her differential, but only confirmed it. “In other words, the fact that Abby’s not missing doesn’t mean William wasn’t murdered.”
“Oh please, Jill!” Victoria whirled around. “Do you really think even Abby thought Dad was murdered? She wanted you back in our life, and after Dad died, she saw a way to get it.” Victoria still shook slightly, but the redness was finally leaving her cheeks. “It’s totally weird that Dad had some kind of secret identity, but you know what, I shouldn’t be surprised, and now that I think about it, I’m not. I know he was no angel. He played fast and loose with things. He and Abby, they’re two of a kind. That’s why they’re so close.”
Jill felt pained to see the jealous twist to Victoria’s lips.
“Yes, Jill. Dad paid for art school for Abby, but not law school for me. Can you believe that? He had the money, but he wouldn’t give it to me. He said he likes artists, but he hates lawyers. Funny, huh?”
Jill hadn’t heard any of this before.
“I don’t know what Dad was up to, but he wasn’t murdered. He took one too many chances, sometimes with the wrong things. Didn’t he, with you? Whether he cheated or you cheated, it all comes down to the same thing. He wasn’t careful with anything, including people.”
Jill couldn’t say no.
“Dad could charm anything and anybody, but he met his match in a pill. You can’t take chances with them, or they kill you.” Victoria picked up her purse from the chair, threw her phone inside, and turned to Detective Hightower. “You don’t think my father was murdered, do you?”