The Wreck Read online

  He stormed into his office and slammed the door, feeling impotent and exhausted at the same time. Except for quick runs home to shower and change clothes, he had worked around the clock since Alicia’s disappearance but was no closer to finding her today than he’d been three days ago. For at least the tenth time, he stood in front of the TV to watch the video they had taken at the candlelight vigil. Every face was familiar to him, but they’d captured nothing out of the ordinary on the film, no sign of a monster in their midst.

  The frustration settled in his chest as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk. He popped two more antacid tablets and rested his head against the soft leather. Matt had called to check in from out of town, and was cutting his vacation short to get back tomorrow.

  In his absence, Michael had found himself relying more and more on Nathan Barclay, who’d turned out to be a pretty good guy—for a fed. If Michael were being honest, he’d have to admit that Barclay had been tremendously helpful and supportive. That the feds were equally stumped by the case also made Michael feel less like a loser.

  A week before Alicia’s abduction, Barclay’s request for additional agents had been denied. Since the abduction, four more agents had been assigned to the case. He prayed it wasn’t too late for Alicia and hoped the extra manpower would result in an arrest this time.

  With his eyes closed, Michael released a deep breath. They had nothing. Not a scrap of evidence, not a clue to follow, and nothing they could do but wait. Bloodhounds had followed Alicia’s scent for a quarter mile to where it had abruptly disappeared. So they knew she had been transported in a car. A complete sweep of her neighborhood hadn’t yielded a single witness, nor had multiple aerial searches by helicopter told them anything new.

  When Michael imagined the torture that girl was suffering through, his stomach began to ache as badly as his chest did. Too much time had gone by. They should’ve found her by now. He never kept them this long, so Michael was further tormented by the image of Alicia injured, naked, and alone in the woods hoping someone would find her.

  “Damn,” he whispered with a hand on his chest. “This frigging heartburn is killing me.”

  His cell phone chimed with a text message. “What the hell?” He read Carly’s message a second time. “Why’s she waiting for me at the lake?” A heartbeat passed before panic set in. Leaping to his feet, he bolted for the door, stopping short when a sharp pain ripped through his chest. Bent in half in the doorway, he tried to breathe his way through it.

  “Chief,” the dispatcher called to him. “They found her. They found Alicia.”

  “Carly!” Michael cried, gripping his chest.

  “Chief!” The dispatcher tossed his headset aside and ran to Michael. “What’s wrong?”

  Michael collapsed. “Find Carly Holbrook,” he gasped. “At the lake.”

  Brian was hammering out a plea agreement in the conference room when Sally, one of the administrative assistants, came in with a message from his mother. He took one look at the pink slip of paper and said, “I’m sorry, we’ll have to do this another time.”

  “Where’re you going?” the defense attorney sputtered.

  In the hallway, Sally handed Brian his cell phone and held his suit coat for him. “Run home and pack a bag. I’ll get you a flight out of LaGuardia.”

  Thirty minutes later, his cab inched along FDR Drive in the late afternoon traffic, leaving Brian with far too much time for recriminations. He should’ve gone home when his mother first told him she was worried about his dad. He should’ve put aside his own selfish concerns and done what was best for his parents. After all, he was their only child. And now, if his father died… Collapsed at work, collapsed at work… What did that mean? Was it is his heart? A stroke? What did collapsed mean?

  After Sally called with his flight information, Brian dialed his mother’s cell phone again. Mary Ann still didn’t answer, which only added to Brian’s anxiety. Why isn’t she answering her phone? He tried unsuccessfully to reach her numerous times before he boarded the five thirty shuttle to Providence.

  When the plane touched down at T.F. Green Airport just after seven, Brian was back on Rhode Island soil for the first time in almost exactly fifteen years. He turned on his cell the moment the plane landed. A message from his mother told him his father was in stable condition and had been admitted to Rhode Island Hospital for tests. He immediately called her back.

  “He’s in room seven twenty-two,” she said, sounding weepy. “He’ll be so glad to see you. Thanks for coming, Bri. I know how difficult it is for you to come home. I’ll see you soon.”

  Brian realized coming home wasn’t difficult at all under these circumstances. He jogged through an airport that was much bigger than he remembered and emerged into the humid evening to find a cab.

  “Rhode Island Hospital,” he told the driver. “And hurry. Please.”

  The drive from Warwick to Providence along Interstate 95 was surreal in that nothing had changed. The Thurbers Avenue curves were as treacherous as Brian remembered, and the big blue termite, known locally as Nibbles Woodaway, still sat atop the New England Pest Control building. With the State House dome looming in the distance, the cabbie took the hospital exit.

  Brian tossed two twenties to the driver and bolted from the car. On the seventh floor, he asked for his father at the nurse’s station and was directed to a room at the end of a long corridor. After taking a moment to prepare himself for whatever he might find inside, Brian pushed the door open.

  Mary Ann turned and let out a happy yelp as she launched herself into her son’s arms.

  “Tell me you did not call the boy home over this,” Michael groaned to his wife.

  Overwhelmed by the sound of his father talking—and bitching—Brian released his mother and bent to kiss his father’s forehead. “Shut up, Dad.” Michael was pale and his hair had gone completely gray in the few months since Brian had last seen him, but otherwise he looked fine. Brian could have collapsed himself from the sheer relief.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Michael grumbled even as he reached for his son’s hand. “It’s nothing. Just a bad case of heartburn.”

  Brian turned to his mother. “What’s the real story?”

  “Thankfully, it wasn’t a heart attack,” she said. “They want to rule out any arterial blockages, so he’s having some tests tomorrow. They think it could’ve been an acute anxiety attack.”

  “Stupid waste of time. I need to get back to work.” Michael pushed himself up, chafing against the monitors attached to his chest.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Dad. Not now, anyway.”

  “They found her,” Michael said with a grim set to his face. “They found Alicia Perry, and no one will tell me anything other than that. I’m the freaking chief of police! This is my case! I need to know what’s going on!”

  Mary Ann went around to the other side of the bed and eased her husband back down to the pile of pillows. “You need to relax, Michael. All that stress is what landed you here in the first place.”

  “If you expect me to relax, you have to find out, please, if they located Carly and if everything’s all right with her.”

  “Carly?” Brian said. “What does she have to do with it?”

  “I got a text message from her, right before this happened,” Michael said with a gesture to the monitors. “That she was waiting for me at the lake. I never asked her to meet me there, so I need to know they’ve got her and she’s safe.”

  “Mom?” Brian asked, his own chest tightening with tension. “Do you know if she’s okay?”

  Mary Ann appeared to be weighing whether she should tell them what she knew. She rested a hand on Michael’s shoulder as she said, “Honey, Alicia’s dead.”

  “No, no, no.”

  “Dad, take it easy.”

  Mary Ann took a deep shuddering breath. “Carly found her under the willow at the lake.”

  “Under the willow?” Brian gasped. “Are you sure that’s where
she was?”

  Mary Ann nodded. “Dave DeSilva picked me up at home and drove me here to meet Dad,” she said, referring to a Granville patrolman. “He filled me in on what was happening. Carly’s safe. There were people on the beach who heard her screaming and went to help her. One of them called the police.”

  “She screamed?” Michael asked, incredulous.

  Mary Ann nodded. “That’s what Dave said.”

  “Why would he put Alicia there, of all places?” Michael wondered.

  “I might know why.” Brian swallowed hard as the implications swirled through his mind.

  His parents looked at him with interest.

  “That’s where Carly and I used to go when we, um, wanted to be alone.” Brian couldn’t believe how embarrassed he was, even at thirty-three, to be confessing such a thing to his parents. “That’s where we were the night of the accident.”

  Michael ruminated over that information for a moment and then glanced at his son. “Did anyone else know that was your spot?”

  “I never told anyone, and I doubt she did, either.”

  “Then whoever this guy is, he somehow knew about it, and that’s why he sent Carly there to find Alicia’s body.” Michael was all but bursting to get out of that bed. “Any doubt I had that this is somehow connected to Carly and the accident just disappeared. Call the station,” he directed Mary Ann. “Tell Nathan Barclay I need to see him. Tonight.”

  “Michael, surely it can wait until tomorrow—”

  “Tonight, Mary Ann,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

  Agent Barclay drove Brian and his mother home to Granville close to midnight. Slumped against the back seat, Brian was drained and mortified after the grilling he’d withstood about how often he and Carly had gone to the willow, exactly what they’d done there, and whether he was sure no one else knew about it. They were the secrets of his youth, secrets he’d never expected to share with his parents, of all people, and secrets he’d never imagined would factor into a murder investigation.

  “You’re sure Carly is safe?” he asked Barclay. He’d learned earlier that she was spending the night with her parents.

  “We have people keeping an eye on the house. Don’t worry.”

  Right, don’t worry. “She really screamed when she found the body?”

  “That’s right. Apparently, she was also able to tell the people who came to her rescue that there was a body under the tree.”

  “Amazing,” Brian said. “Those are the first words she’s spoken in more than fifteen years.”

  “So I’m told,” Barclay said.

  “Does this mean she can talk again?” Mary Ann asked.

  “We don’t know yet if it was temporary or not,” Barclay said. “She was a mess, so we decided not to push her for a statement tonight.”

  “Poor Carly,” Brian said. “Like she hasn’t already been through enough.”

  Mary Ann turned around in the front seat and reached for Brian’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey. This is not quite the homecoming I’d imagined for you.”

  Brian shrugged and worked up a wry grin for her. “I left in the midst of high drama, so why not come home to it, too?”

  They crossed the town line into Granville, and Brian was grateful that from this direction they wouldn’t have to take Tucker Road. This day had been enough of a bitch without having to face that, too. In the dark, he couldn’t see much of anything, which was fine. There’d be time enough for that tomorrow.

  A few minutes later, Barclay pulled into the driveway at the house, which had been painted white in his absence. He helped his mother from the car and thanked Barclay for the ride.

  “Let me know how your dad makes out,” Barclay said.

  “I will.”

  He drove off, and Brian stood in the driveway with his mother, remembering the night he’d waited there with Officer Beckett to tell his parents that Sam had been killed in the accident. The memory sent a shudder rippling through him. “I like the white,” he said, forcing himself to say something as they climbed the front stairs.

  “I do, too. We did it about four years ago, I guess. The brown was so depressing. I was sick of it.”

  Walking into that house was like taking a step back in time. The furniture was new but arranged the way he remembered it. The smell was the same—a spicy mix of potpourri and candles—and the old school pictures of him and Sam still hung on the wall.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean out your room or get anything ready for you,” Mary Ann said. Her shoulders stooped with exhaustion as she led Brian past the closed door to Sam’s room.

  Resting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him and pulled her tight against him as she finally broke down.

  “I’m sorry,” she said between sobs. “I was just so scared earlier when they said Dad had collapsed, and it’s so good to have you here, even though I know it’s hard for you.”

  “Shh. Don’t be sorry. For anything. I’m right where I need to be tonight.”

  Brian Westbury had finally come home.

  Part III

  August 2010

  A time to mourn and a time to dance … a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to lose and a time to seek.

  Ecclesiastes 3:5-6

  Chapter 14

  Since Carly had taken the bed from her room to the apartment when she moved out of her parents’ house, she was sleeping in Cate’s old room, which was now outfitted for grandchildren. A crib occupied one corner along with a narrow twin bed with Disney characters on the sheets where Carly was pretending to sleep.

  As if she could sleep.

  Every time she closed her eyes she saw Alicia Perry’s battered body. She had been on her back with her legs splayed open to ensure that the person who found her would be certain to see what she’d been through. That Alicia’s killer had arranged for her to be the one to find the girl was a thought Carly had yet to fully process. The ramifications were so overwhelming.

  And that she had screamed, actually screamed, when she found the body was another thing she couldn’t quite believe. She’d just opened her mouth and done what anyone else would’ve done in that situation. Apparently, she had screamed loud enough to attract the attention of people way off in the distance, people who’d come running to see what was wrong.

  In the melee of police and chaos that followed the grim discovery, Carly hadn’t tested her voice again to see if the scream and the words she’d said to those who had come to her rescue were a one-time thing or a miracle in the midst of disaster. On the order of the FBI agent in charge of the investigation, a female Granville Police officer had driven her to her parents’ home and explained the situation to her overwrought parents.

  Through the wall, she could hear them in their bedroom talking about her the way they had after the accident.

  Her mother was crying. “She’s in danger, Steve. I just know it. Why would he pretend to be Michael Westbury and lure Carly to the place where he’d left that poor girl? Why Carly?”

  “I don’t know, honey, but Michael’s been saying all of this is connected to the accident. I have to admit I wondered if he was so desperate to clear Sam’s name that he was creating a link to the accident. But now it certainly seems possible.”

  “And he’s in the hospital, with maybe a heart attack,” Carol said. “It’s all so unbelievable.”

  Hearing that, Carly got up and went to their room, her own heart beating so hard it echoed in her ears. She had wondered why he hadn’t come to the lake earlier, but no one had mentioned his name.

  “Honey?” Carol sat up when she saw Carly standing in the doorway. “What is it?”

  Carly looked at her parents and said, “What’s wrong with Chief Westbury?” Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but she wasn’t about to complain.

  “Oh!” Carol cried, flying out of bed. “Oh my God! Steve! Did you hear that?”

  “I sure did,” he said, his own voice catching
with emotion. “Do you think maybe you could say it again?”

  “Did he have a heart attack?” Carly asked.

  Carol broke down as she wrapped her arms around Carly. “Listen to you! Your voice is deeper and more mature, but it’s you, all right. Oh, it’s definitely you!”

  Steve joined them in a group hug, and the three of them stood there like that for a long time.

  Finally, Carly drew back from them. “I want to know what’s wrong with him.”

  “They don’t know, honey.” Carol cradled Carly’s face with her hands. “He collapsed at the office, and they took him to Rhode Island Hospital. That’s all we know.”

  “Can we call Mrs. Westbury?”

  “It’s kind of late,” Carol said.

  “I don’t care! I need to know he’s all right.”

  “I’ll go call,” Steve offered, his eyes glued to Carly as if he was afraid he might be dreaming.

  Carol led Carly to the bed and urged her to get in.

  With her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, Carly reveled in the comfort.

  “When did you realize you could talk again?” Carol asked, combing her fingers through Carly’s long curls.

  “When I saw Alicia under the willow and I screamed. I can’t stop thinking about her. There was blood everywhere … between her legs, on her chest…”

  “My poor baby. What an awful thing to see.”

  “Mom?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I used to make love with Brian under that willow.”

  Carol’s hand froze, and she sat up.

  “I know that’s probably something you don’t want to know, even now, but—”

  “He put her there on purpose! He’s telling you he knows you two used to go there!”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Oh, God, Carly. God.”

  “I’m scared,” Carly whispered.

  Carol tightened her arms around her daughter. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. We won’t let it.”