I brought them to the Marriott. I parked the truck and helped Betsy down out of the cab. She squeezed my neck with her arms as I set her to the pavement, and she told me she would see me in the morning. I told her I’d look forward to it.
“You still owe me an ice cream,” she said as she bounced toward the hotel. I leaned against the truck and looked away.
Julie stepped up next to me. We both watched Betsy. “I’ll keep her safe and happy,” she said. “I will tell her Wayne is dead, but when I tell her we will be far away, and we will be safe. I will see that she is raised well, and raised happily, and not raised in danger or in the shadow of all the publicity.”
“Will you ever tell her the truth?” I asked. “Will you tell her what you did?”
She swallowed hard and didn’t look at me. “I don’t know.”
“Mommy, come on,” Betsy called. She was standing at the door to the lobby.
Julie turned to me. “Are you going to the police?”
“I’m going to see John, like I told you.”
She looked into my eyes, searching for another answer I would not offer, and then she nodded. “Okay, Lincoln.” She leaned up and kissed me softly on the cheek, letting her face linger near mine for a few extra seconds. “I owe my life to you, and my daughter’s life. You may hate me now. You have that right. Just know that I have nothing but gratitude for you.”
She turned and walked away, carrying a suitcase in each hand. Betsy tugged open the door, straining her little body against the heavy glass, and then they went inside. I got in the truck and drove to John Weston’s.
CHAPTER 27
THE WINDOWS of Weston’s house were dark, but he answered the door when I knocked. He was wearing pajamas and a robe, and he looked exhausted.
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let me pass.
“I’m sorry to bother you so late.”
“Son, don’t you ever apologize to me for anything. You want to come here at two in the morning every day, I won’t complain. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
We went into the living room and sat down. The haze of cigarette smoke was thicker than I’d ever seen it before. He fired another one up and took a few puffs while I waited.
“Something’s on your mind,” he said. “You came here to let it out. So let it out.”
“You know they’re leaving,” I said.
He nodded. “Yes, son, I do. And as much as I hate to see them go, I will respect my daughter-in-law’s decision. She has the best interests of the little girl at heart. I firmly believe that.”
I nodded. “So do I.”
He’d turned on one lamp, but the room was still quite dark. The cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air, and it was warm enough to make me sweat. He ground the cigarette out in an ashtray and waited for me to speak.
“You hired me to find out what had happened to your family,” I said.
“Yes. And you’ve done that.”
I shook my head. “I’ve told you what happened to your granddaughter and her mother. I haven’t told you what happened to your son.”
He waited, but I didn’t say anything. Sometimes it’s hard to find a place to start.
“Son, I’m old and tired. Tell me what you have to say.”
So I told him. I told him my reasons for the initial suspicion, and I told him of my conversation with Julie. I told him I had not talked to the police about her yet. When I finished, it was quiet for a while.
“I hate to hear it,” he said eventually. “But I can’t say that I blame her. And I know that Wayne doesn’t blame her, wherever he is. Wayne lost sight of his family. He lost sight of his loyalty, and of his honor.” His voice was wet and gravelly.
“We need to call the police,” I said. “That’s what we need to do.”
The tip of his cigarette glowed a bright red as he inhaled. “Who you working for, Mr. Perry?”
I looked at him. “I’m working for you.”
He nodded. “Seems like I should get to make this call, then, doesn’t it?”
I shook my head. “It’s a felony, sir. She killed a man. I can’t let that go.”
He blew a cloud of smoke at me. “You’ve spent some time with my granddaughter, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you think of her?”
I looked at the floor. “She’s an amazing little girl. She’s bright and fun and polite. She’s a very special kid.”
“You’re damn right she is.” He cleared his throat and put this cigarette out, too. “I’m a sick old man. I don’t have much time left. Other than Julie, I’m the only family that kid’s got. You want to tell me who’s going to raise her if her mother goes to jail?”
I shrugged. “Foster care, I guess. She’d be a ward of the state.”
“That’s right. Now look at me, son.”
I looked up and met his eyes.
“You are my employee. I am going to give you a request, and I expect and demand that you will follow through on it.”
“All right.”
“You take the night off,” he said. “Go home, go to bed. In the morning, you do what your heart and your head tell you to do.”
I told him I would, and then I stood up and said I’d see myself to the door. I made it halfway there before he spoke again.
“Mr. Perry?”
I turned. “Yes, sir?”
His face was hidden by the shadows and the smoke. “I hired you to bring me the truth. I didn’t ask you to bring me any sugarcoated bullshit. I asked for the truth, and you brought it to me. I thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. I wanted to ask him if he felt more or less lonely now than he had before, but I didn’t. I stepped out into the night and closed the door softly behind me. I’d brought him the truth. It sounded like a noble task, and I felt I should probably be proud to have done it. I wasn’t, though. Sometimes providing the truth isn’t any fun.
I stopped at a restaurant in North Olmsted and picked at a plate of food until I grew tired of pretending the night was normal and I had an appetite, and then I drove back to the apartment, changed clothes, and went down to my gym. Grace was long gone, of course. That was good. I didn’t want to make any lighthearted small talk.
My head was pounding and throbbing from the beating Krashakov had given me, but I didn’t take any medication. I welcomed the pain tonight. The gym was nearly empty, and I worked out furiously. It had been a few days since my last workout, and my muscles needed the exercise. The headache intensified, and so did my effort as I tried to cleanse myself through the exertion, the sweat, and the pain. It wasn’t working. I went at it for almost two hours, until my body gave up on outlasting my need for the exercise. I went back up to the apartment.
I had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. I picked the cordless phone off its handset and said hello.
“Where is she, Mr. Perry?” Laura Winters.
“Where’s who?”
“Julie Weston. Please tell me she’s with you.”
“No. I dropped her off at the Marriott hours ago.”
“Shit.”
“What happened?”
“She disappeared, that’s what happened. We had officers watching them, but she got away. She took the girl down to swim in the indoor pool, and they were watched the whole time. When they got on the elevator to go back up, the cops waited for another one so they wouldn’t scare the girl. That was the last time they saw them.”
Slick. Wayne Weston would have been proud.
“Try John Weston’s house,” I said.
“We sent officers over there. It looks like he’s gone, too. Neighbors saw him put two suitcases in his car and drive away earlier this evening.”
That was more ofa surprise.
“She did this on purpose, didn’t she?” Winters said. “Your reporter friend told me Julie Weston was planning to leave. She said she didn’t want to trust the police to keep her safe.”