The Escape Artist

  She suddenly broke into a grin. "Can you believe I'm going to get to be a mother after all?"

  "I'm so glad for you." Nancy had been Peggy's confidante three years earlier, when Phil Rudy broke off his engagement to her after she had the hysterectomy. Phil had wanted children, and he was going to find a woman who could give him some. Jim, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. He never made her feel as if she were less of a woman for having had a hysterectomy at the age of thirty.

  "Why did Jim's ex-wife lose custody, Peg?" Nancy asked the question gingerly. "I thought it was pretty much a given that a mother would get custody—unless she was totally unfit."

  "Well, fortunately this particular judge was level-headed and kept Tyler's best interests in mind. And I would never say Susanna was unfit, exactly, but there are definite problems. I mean, it's not as though she's on drugs or abusive, at least as far as I know. But she's single, with zero family support. She works in a bank, so he's in day care all day."

  "What bank?" Nancy asked.

  "Rocky Mountain National."

  "Really? My sister, Julie, is a teller in the North Street branch."

  "She must know Susanna, then, because that's where she works." Peggy studied the reflection of the overhead light in her coffee. "Susanna's made some poor choices in her life, and I feel sorry for her. But that's not a good enough reason to allow her to keep Tyler when we can give him so much more."

  "You don't make much money in a bank," Nancy agreed.

  "Money's only a small part of it, though," Peggy said quickly. She would never fight a woman for her child based on finances alone. Besides, Susanna was not in such bad shape financially. Jim was generous with child support, and he was buying her out of the house. It would take him a few years, but eventually Susanna would have her share. "Susanna's not terribly stable," Peggy said. "After she and Jim split up, she spent a month in a psychiatric ward because she threatened to kill herself. She'd stockpiled whatever pills she could find in her boyfriend's house. And it's the boyfriend that worries me the most. He's Linc Sebastian. Do you know who he is?"

  Nancy frowned. "His name's familiar. Is he on the radio or something?"

  Peggy nodded. "He has a syndicated show called Songs for the Asking. Old folk-rock sort of music. But he's an ex-con."

  "You're kidding? What was he in for?"

  Peggy leaned forward. She couldn't help herself. The story was so remarkably lurid that it never failed to get a rise out of an audience. "Murder," she said. "And guess who he murdered?"

  Nancy shook her head.

  "Susanna's father."

  "What? Jim's father-in-law?"

  "Well, he would have been, but Linc killed him before Jim was ever in the picture. It happened when Susanna was sixteen and Linc was twenty-two. He lived next door to Susanna's family, and he was over there one day and her parents were apparently inebriated, which I gather was typical, and a fight broke out. Linc claimed that the father started knocking the mother and Susanna around, and that the mother was actually knocked unconscious, and Linc got the father's gun and killed him to stop him from beating them up. The mother, on the other hand, denied that's what happened. She said that the father never hit either one of them—and there were no bruises on either Susanna or the mother, except for a cut on the mother's cheek, which she said happened when she fell. She did admit to passing out, but said it was because she was drunk." Peggy shook her head. She worried that Tyler might have a genetic predisposition toward alcoholism. "The mother said that what really happened was that Susanna's father was incensed because he suspected Linc of having a sexual relationship with his daughter, and so he started berating him, telling him to get out of the house, et cetera. That's when Linc got the gun and shot him."

  "Holy shit, Peg. Which story did the jury believe?"

  "Hard to say. They found him guilty. He admitted killing him, after all. But he denied anything more than a friendship with Susanna. The jury was never sure whether Linc killed the father in self-defense or if he was protecting Susanna and the mother or what. That's why he got such a light sentence. Jim knows the whole situation best, of course, and he feels pretty certain that Susanna and Linc were involved with each other back then. Actually," she said, "he thinks they've been lovers all along. Even while he and Susanna were married."

  "Oh no."

  Peggy shuddered. The whole situation made her skin crawl.

  "Did Jim know at the time that she was having an affair?" Nancy asked.

  "He could never prove it, and she denied it vehemently. But as soon as she and Jim split up, she was with Linc. She moved right into his house. You don't have to work very hard to put two and two together." Peggy looked at the clock above the stove. Twenty-five minutes to two, and her stomach was not pleased about the coffee.

  She remembered well the hurt look in Jim's eyes when he first told her about his marriage. He'd made a mistake in marrying Susanna, he'd said. He'd gotten himself trapped. He was a bright, ambitious man married to a woman with few aspirations.

  "The main reason they broke up was simply that Jim outgrew her," Peggy said.

  "That happens all the time." Nancy drained the last of her coffee. "I'm so glad Gary and I are in the same profession. We really understand each other."

  "That's critical," Peggy agreed. "Jim was spending his days with all these bright law students and going home to Susanna at night. He and I became good friends, going out to lunch and studying together, and he'd confide in me about how unhappy he was. After school, we went our separate ways. He went to Black and Courier, and I—"

  "Wow." Nancy's green eyes grew even larger. "I didn't know he was working there."

  "Uh huh. And I went to Legal Aid. And then one day we bumped into each other. We went to lunch. He told me his marriage was worse than ever. He told me about Linc, that he'd asked Susanna not to see him anymore, but she said she had to, he was an important friend. This guy who killed her father, right?"

  Nancy made a sound of disgust.

  "I'm sure she and Linc were having an affair and Jim simply could never admit it to himself. Then she got pregnant. Jim was really upset. He told me he couldn't bear the thought of her being the mother of his children."

  "I don't blame him," Nancy said. Then she added quietly, "Are you sure Jim's the father?"

  Peggy drew in a long breath. This was something she'd wondered about herself. "Not one hundred percent," she said. "But we've decided it doesn't matter one way or another. Tyler's still ours."

  She was skipping something in the telling. She always skipped it, and even with this old friend, she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth, because it was the one thing she'd done in her life that shamed her. She'd started sleeping with Jim when he was still married. If she lived to be one hundred, she would never forget the look on Susanna's face when she walked into the bedroom and found them together. She'd often wanted to talk to Susanna about that horrible night. She wanted to apologize, but how could she ever broach the subject? Look, Susanna, I'm very sorry about the time you found me making love to your husband. That night had been the first time she'd gotten a good look at Susanna. She'd heard so many negative things about her that she had not been prepared for her to look so vulnerable, so hurt. She'd been trying to rid her mind of that image of Susanna ever since.

  The phone rang and she jumped to her feet to answer it.

  "I'm just about ready to leave," Jim said.

  "I'll be waiting." She got off the phone with a smile. "Jim's on his way to get Tyler."

  Nancy stood up. "Well, I'm not going to stay any longer. Don't want to intrude on your family reunion here."

  Peggy was suddenly ashamed of herself. "Oh, Nance," she said. "I've spent the last hour yakking about me, myself, and I, and I haven't asked you a thing about you or Gary or the kids."

  Nancy kissed her on the cheek. "We're all doing great. And how many times have you listened to me go on and on about my kids? It's your turn now, and I love hearing about Tyler. Give me
a call when you're ready to show off your son, okay?"

  Your son. Peggy loved the sound of those words. "I will," she said. "And thanks again for the album."

  She watched Nancy drive off, then sat in a chair in the living room and, although she'd read it four times already, opened the book on one year olds her mother had given her. Her eyes darted between the book to her watch, to the window, to her watch again. At three o'clock, she had the ominous feeling that something was wrong. Jim should have been home half an hour ago.

  The phone rang and she walked into the kitchen to answer it.

  "I'm on the car phone," Jim said.

  "Is everything all right? Do you have Tyler?"

  "I did tell her attorney two o'clock, didn't I?"

  "What do you mean? Yes you did. I heard you. What's wrong?"

  "Well, nothing, I hope. It's just that Susanna's not here. Or else she's not answering her door. Maybe Ann Prescott told her the wrong time."

  "Is her car there?"

  "Yes, it's here. So I figured maybe she took Tyler out for a walk. I've been waiting on the steps leading up to her apartment, but she's not back yet."

  Peggy's heart was pounding. "What are you going to do?"

  "I thought I'd wait here another half hour or so."

  "She wouldn't do anything stupid, would she? Like—she wouldn't kill herself, and–?" and Tyler, she thought, but she couldn't say those words out loud.

  "She's probably out for a walk or something." Jim avoided her question. "I'm going to start looking around. If she's not back soon, I'll try to talk to some of the neighbors."

  "All right."

  She got off the phone and paced around the house, hugging her arms to her chest. She called Ron at his office, not certain what she wanted from her older brother, but she had always turned to him when she was anxious about something. Ron's calm approach to life could usually soothe her.

  "I'm sure everything's all right," Ron said patiently. "And look, Peg. I'm going to be disappointed in you if you turn into an anxious, overprotective mother."

  "I won't," she said, although she knew she was three-quarters of the way there.

  "It's true that Tyler's had some special medical problems," Ron admitted, "but he's fine now. He needs to be treated like any other little kid."

  "I know," she said. "All right. Thanks." She got off the phone feeling a little disappointed in her brother. Ron had two healthy kids of his own. He couldn't possibly understand how she was feeling.

  At four o'clock, Jim pulled into the driveway. From the living room window, she watched him get out of the car and walk toward the house, his arms empty. She rushed outside and met him in the driveway.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "I don't know." Jim looked tired and perplexed. He ran his hands through his dark hair, then put his arm around her and turned her in the direction of the house. "I've been trying to call Linc Sebastian to see if he knows anything," he said as they walked toward the house. "But I got his voice mail. I think he tapes his shows on Wednesday, so he's probably there but not picking up his phone. Not that he'd be too quick to help me figure out what's going on anyway."

  He pushed open the front door and headed for the kitchen.

  Peggy followed him. "I think we should call the police," she said.

  "Let me try her attorney first." Jim pulled the phone book out of one of the kitchen drawers. "Maybe she misunderstood me. Maybe she thought I said Thursday at two. Or maybe Thursday at ten. Or—"

  "You said tomorrow at two. I was standing right there. She heard you."

  Jim rested the phone book on the counter and dialed Ann Prescott's office number. Peggy listened while he asked for the attorney. She was not in, and Jim left a message for her to call him as soon as possible.

  "Try Linc again," she said as soon as he'd hung up the phone.

  Jim nodded and dialed the number from memory. Peggy sat on one of the barstools, leaning across the counter, holding her breath as they waited for Linc to answer.

  "What if he's taken off, too?" she asked. "What if—"

  "Sh." Jim held up his hand. "Linc? This is Jim Miller. Do you know where Susanna is?"

  Peggy wished she could hear Linc's answer.

  "No, she's not," Jim said. "I went over to pick Tyler up at two and she wasn't there. Her car was, though."

  "Ask him if she knew it was today at—"

  Jim hushed her again with his hand. "I thought of that," he said into the phone, "but I waited over an hour and she didn't show up. Could she have the time wrong or something?"

  "What is he saying?" Peggy couldn't stand it any longer.

  Jim cupped his hand over the receiver. "He says she knew I was going to pick him up today. She was dreading it and—" He removed his hand from the receiver. "What, Linc? All right, good. I'll be there in twenty minutes,"

  Jim hung up the phone. His face was pinched and white. "Linc sounds worried himself."

  "Oh, God," Peggy said. "If she did anything to Tyler, I'll—"

  "Hold on, Peg. No point in borrowing trouble."

  "You're going over there?"

  "Yes." Jim reached for his car keys on the counter. "He has a key to her apartment, so he'll meet me over there in twenty minutes and we can make sure there's—you know, nothing wrong."

  "I'm coming too."

  "No."

  "Yes, Jim, I am." She grabbed her sweater, and he didn't object as she followed him out to the car.

  Neither of them spoke on the ride to Susanna's apartment complex on the other side of town. Peggy was afraid to give words to her fears. They reached the apartment a little after six and parked on the street.

  Linc pulled up in his van as they were getting out of the car. He looked more like himself now than he had in court. The small loop earring was back in his ear again, and he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved, dark green jersey. Well, his conservative get-up in court hadn't helped him much.

  "Did you ring the bell?" Linc asked.

  "We just got here," Jim said.

  They followed Linc to the front security door of the complex and watched as he rang the buzzer for Susanna's apartment.

  "Someone let me in earlier," Jim said. "I went up and knocked on her door, but there was no answer."

  When it became apparent that no one was going to respond to the buzzer, Linc slipped his key into the lock. They followed him up the stairs to a long hallway where he knocked on the first door to his right. Peggy had never been here before. The hallway was dark and smelled of mildew.

  She realized she was holding her breath as she watched Linc unlock the door. He poked his head inside. "Susanna?"

  She and Jim followed him into the apartment. The living room was small, but neat and uncluttered, and Peggy felt relief. She realized she'd been expecting to find Susanna and Tyler lying in a pool of blood.

  "You two stay here," Linc said.

  Jim started to protest, but Peggy took her husband's arm and nodded toward the sofa. Linc scared her a little, and she thought they should go along with whatever he said. She sat down on the sofa as he walked into the kitchen, but Jim paced back and forth between the window and the entrance to the hallway.

  "There's got to be a simple explanation for this," he said, peering down the hall. "I can't believe that Susanna would have the gumption to defy a court order."

  Peggy pressed her hands together in her lap and bit her lip to keep from speaking. For the first time, she was wondering if Jim had ever really known his ex-wife.

  There was nothing out of order in the kitchen, but Linc did not have a good feeling about this situation. He had to force himself to walk into the master bedroom. The curtains were open and there was still a splash of sunlight on Susanna's neatly made bed. No sign of anything out of place. The bathroom looked clean and orderly, and he felt a relief he did not want to give a name to. He hadn't really expected her to harm herself, though. She was not the same person she'd been when Jim left her, and he couldn't imagine her t
rying to take her own life at this point. But where was she, then? What the hell was going on?

  Tyler's room was on the other side of the hall and the first thing that greeted Linc was the mural she'd painted on the wall across from the crib—a large, colorful rendition of Noah's Ark. She'd painted it a few months earlier, terrified that her landlord would have a fit when he discovered it. He stood in the middle of the small room and turned slowly in a circle. Nothing missing or out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell. Except…He frowned at the changing table. She usually put Tyler's diaper bag there, but the changing table was bare. That didn't mean much, he told himself. He checked the crib. Tyler's monkey was gone, but that made sense. Wherever Tyler was, he'd have his monkey with him. It would have been more ominous to find the monkey alone in the crib.

  Back in Susanna's bedroom, he checked her closet where she kept her old duffel bag. It was not there.

  Susanna, he thought, incredulous. You didn't.

  "Linc?" Peggy called from the living room. "Have you found anything?"

  "No," he called back. He knew he'd have to let them see for themselves. He was walking past the bathroom again when he noticed a small, reddish brown smear on the countertop. He froze. Blood? He stared at it for a minute. Hair dye. He knew that's what it was. Knew it beyond any shadow of a doubt, and he took a few sheets of toilet paper, wet them, wiped the stain away, and slipped the damp paper into his jeans pocket. Starting right then, he began looking not so much for clues to her disappearance as for clues she might have left behind that someone else might find. There was a pain in his heart, but it was born of understanding. He went back to the living room, forcing himself to keep his face expressionless.