Her lips twisted. “Frank wasn’t the only one suffering from unrequited love.”
“You and Frank had a relationship?” Luke asked, and her eyes flashed in pain.
“Twenty-five years we were lovers. He’d come in the night, leave before morning. But he wouldn’t marry me. He wanted Carol Vartanian.”
“You must have hated her,” Susannah whispered.
Angie shook her head sadly. “No. She was my friend. But I envied her. She had an important husband and the love of a man who sold his soul to make her happy. But it didn’t make her happy. A year after Gary Fulmore went to prison, Simon disappeared and your mother was never quite the same. Neither was Frank. When he learned she was dead… that Simon had killed her. It nearly killed him. I guess in the end it did.”
“Miss Delacroix,” Luke said, “we have one more question. The pastor who left, did he leave any forwarding address? Would there be any way to get in touch with him?”
“Bob Bowie and his wife might know. Rose was always active in the church.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why was this so urgent that you woke me in the middle of the night?”
“Someone shot at Susannah today,” Luke said.
Angie looked surprised. “I thought they shot the French girl, the one who’s going public about… well, you know.”
“Susannah was standing next to her. We’re exploring all possibilities.”
“You think Terri Styveson’s bastard baby would shoot Susannah for an inheritance?”
“People get shot for a lot less, every day.” Luke stood, bringing Susannah to her feet. “Please accept our apologies and thanks. I hope you’re able to get back to sleep.”
Angie’s smile was wan. “I haven’t slept in days. Not since Frank was killed.”
Susannah looked at Angie, her emotions seething. “Why tell me? Why now?”
“I always wondered what went on in your house. I always wondered what went on behind those blank eyes of yours. I was afraid I knew. I should have said something, but… Frank didn’t want me to. It would have embarrassed your mother. When he finally learned the truth, that you were his, it was too late. It was too late, wasn’t it?”
Susannah nodded, numbly. People had known then. They’d known. And they’d done nothing. “Yes.”
Angie closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
It’s all right. That’s what she should say. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t all right. “Did my father… Arthur… Did he know? That I wasn’t his?”
“I don’t know for sure. I do know you were your mother’s penance. Now you’re mine. I didn’t say anything then and I’ve lived with that all these years. Now, I have to live with knowing I could have helped you, and didn’t.”
They left her sitting on her plastic-covered sofa, her face filled with regret.
“Come on,” Luke murmured. Susannah made it to Luke’s car before her legs gave out, and he buckled her in as if she were a child. “That was a shock,” he said.
One side of her mouth lifted. “It was difficult.”
He hunkered down, his face close to hers. He cradled her cheek in his palm. “If I kissed you now, would you hit me?”
His eyes were blacker than the night around them and fixed on hers. She didn’t look away, needing his stability. Needing his comfort. “No.”
His kiss was warm and sweet, demanding nothing. Suddenly she wished he would. He pulled away, his thumb smoothing the corner of her mouth. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she whispered. “My whole life… it was a lie.”
“Your life wasn’t. Just everyone’s around you. You are the same person you were fifteen minutes ago, Susannah. A good person who persevered despite everything to care about other people. You think you became a prosecutor just to erase the stigma of being Arthur Vartanian’s daughter? You didn’t. You did it because you want for others what no one cared enough to give you. Yet still you persevere.”
She swallowed hard. “I hated him, Luke. Now I know why he hated me.”
“Arthur Vartanian was a cruel man, Susannah. But he’s gone and you’re still here. You deserve the life you work to give people you represent every day.”
“I always dreamed that Arthur wasn’t really my father, that I’d been stolen from gypsies or something… But I’m not sure Frank Loomis was much better.”
“He died trying to save Daniel. And when Bailey and Monica escaped, he could have turned them over to Granville to save himself, but he helped them. He wasn’t all bad.”
“Daniel needs to know. That Frank falsified the Fulmore evidence has torn him up.”
“I think he’ll feel better knowing it tore Frank up, too,” Luke said, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go back to Atlanta and you can get some rest.”
“What will you do?”
“Find out where Bobby is hiding. Angie gave us biographical information we didn’t have before.” His cell buzzed as he stood. “Papadopoulos.”
His back stiffened. “Where is she?” He ran around the car and slid behind the wheel, his eyes narrowing as he listened. When he hung up, he was smiling fiercely. “Guess what a family on a houseboat pulled out of the water downriver?”
“Bobby?”
“No, maybe better. A seventeen-year-old named Ashley Csorka.”
“The girl from the bunker. The one who scratched her name on her cot.”
He did a U-turn in Dutton’s Main Street and sped out of town. “One and the same. She said she escaped from where they’re holding the girls.”
Dutton, Sunday, February 4, 4:30 a.m.
From his bedroom window, Charles watched Luke and Susannah drive away, then hit speed dial three on his phone. “Well? What did you tell them?”
“The truth,” Angie said. “Just like you told me to.”
“Good.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dutton, Sunday, February 4, 4:45 a.m.
Luke found Jock’s Raw Bar in Arcadia with no trouble-its neon sign lit the way from the main road. Watching Ashley being loaded into the ambulance was Sheriff Corchran.
“How is she?” Luke asked him.
“In shock. Based on her core temp, the medics think she was in the water about twenty-five minutes. Jock over there heard a thump against his houseboat. He fished her out and called me. I recognized her name from the Amber alert you folks put out earlier tonight. She’s pretty lucid. She fought hard to escape.”
“Thanks.” Luke climbed into the back of the ambulance. “Ashley, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she managed, although her teeth were chattering.
“My name is Agent Papadopoulos. Are the others still alive?”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“Where are they?”
“House. An old house. Boarded windows.”
“Did it have a dock?”
“No.”
“We need to get her to the hospital,” one of the medics said. “Either ride or get out.”
“Where are you taking her?” Susannah asked. She was standing in the open doors.
“Mansfield Community Hospital. It’s closest,” the medic answered.
“Luke, you stay with her and I’ll meet you there,” Susannah said. “I’ll drive your car.”
Luke tossed her his keys, then looked at Corchran, who stood behind her. “She’s been shot at twice today. Stay behind her.”
Susannah stepped back as the ambulance drove away. She looked up at Corchran, her brain humming. “Do you have a computer model of the river currents?”
“I’ve already given the River Patrol the coordinates. If she was in the water twenty-five minutes she might have floated a half mile. They’ve marked off a section of river about a mile long and they’re already searching.”
“Sheriff, can you spare someone to drive me to the hospital?”
He looked surprised at the request. “You can’t drive?”