Stolen In The Night Part 24

CHAPTER 25.

A flutelike bell tinkled as Tess opened the door to Stressless.

Water burbled and circulated over s.h.i.+ny stones in a round fountain in the window and the walls of the small s.p.a.ce, painted a soothing celadon green, were decorated with framed Zen koans, photos of dew-laden blossoms on a branch against an out-of-focus background, and j.a.panese drawings of cranes, snowcapped mountains, and high-rising ocean waves with red j.a.panese characters running down the sides of each picture. A CD of tuneless music plunked on a stringed instrument played softly in the background. A square woven basket full of pamphlets about yoga cla.s.ses, AIDS, and women's health issues sat on the blond wood counter, which was obviously the reception desk, though it was unmanned at the moment. A light fixture and a fan hung from a stained, dropped ceiling, marring the otherwise clean and soothing effect of the s.p.a.ce.

There were no customers seated in the ergonomically correct chairs arrayed around a tatami mat in the waiting area, but Tess could see shadows moving behind a wood-framed standing paper screen at the back of the room. "h.e.l.lo?" Tess called out.

A trim woman with finely lined skin, Western features, and a skinned-back, dyed blonde bun anch.o.r.ed by a chopstick came out from behind the screen and bowed. Then she smiled benignly at Tess. She was barefoot and wearing a kimono-style jacket and cropped black pants. "Take a seat, why don't you, and just breathe for a while. I'll be with you shortly."

Before Tess could reply, she slipped back behind the screen. "Excuse me," Tess called out. "Are you Charmaine Bosworth?"

"Yes," the woman's voice trilled, at once pleasant and reproving.

Tess could tell that she was clearly disturbing the vibe. "I'm sorry, but I need to talk to you right now."

The woman folded back one panel of the screen. Tess could see that there was someone lying facedown on the table, wrapped in a bathsheet-size towel. At first glance, Tess thought it was an adolescent boy whose bruised limbs were flaccid, lacking in muscle tone. Then Tess realized that it had to be a female. A boy would only be wrapped to the waist.

"I am unable to help you right now," said Charmaine firmly.

"It's very important," said Tess. "I wouldn't interrupt otherwise."

"This is a treatment session," said Charmaine, raising her eyebrows and indicating, with an inclination of her head, the wheelchair that was folded against the wall. "Surely it can wait."

"It's all right, Charmaine," said a small raspy voice from the direction of the ma.s.sage table. "I'm fine for a few minutes." The client turned her head to face Charmaine and Tess recognized the tiny woman on the table. It was Sally Morris, the publisher's wife. For one minute Tess felt fearful that maybe Sally would recognize her or her voice, but she rea.s.sured herself that it was unlikely. They had only met briefly at the airport and even though Sally had turned her head on the table, Tess was completely out of her line of sight.

Tess winced at the sight of the woman's wasted body with its a.s.sortment of bruises, some fresh and some faded to yellow. Probably from the kind of fall she had taken at the airport. Tess felt a pang of sympathy for the woman's pitiable condition. A desire to speak a kind word to the woman on the table crossed her mind, but Tess instantly dismissed the impulse. It was critical to her plan that she not be recognized. She was relieved when Charmaine Bosworth sighed and adjusted the screen so that Sally was no longer in view. "What is the problem?" she asked.

On the way over, Tess had imagined the possible scenarios of this visit. Already she realized with relief that she was over the most daunting hurdle. Charmaine's cool gaze betrayed no sign that she recognized this intruder. Tess's avoidance of interviews and photographers had proved valuable. Charmaine had no idea that it was Tess DeGraff she was talking to, despite all the media coverage. Besides, Tess thought, Charmaine probably avoided the news to maintain her calm aura. This made Tess's mission that much easier. She knew that asking this woman for the home address of her estranged husband would arouse suspicion. And certainly, there was no normal way to inquire about Rusty Bosworth's blood relations. Tess had thought it over carefully and figured out a way to proceed. Now she put her plan into action. She began with an effusive apology.

Charmaine seemed somewhat appeased. "That's all right. How can I help you?"

"You are Mrs. Russell Bosworth?"

"Well. Technically," said Charmaine.

"My name is...Terkel. June Terkel. I work for a brokerage house in Boston. We are trying to locate Russell Bosworth."

"What for?" Charmaine asked.

"He, and any siblings or cousins he may have had, have been bequeathed a brokerage account at my firm from a distant relation who never actually knew the family."

"A brokerage account? You mean like stocks and bonds?" Charmaine asked.

"Exactly. We tried to reach him but found that he was no longer at your address."

"We're separated," said Charmaine. "But Rusty's the chief of police. You can find him at the police station most likely."

"Yes, I know that he is. I've left several messages with his sergeant, but your husband has failed to return my calls."

"He's been really busy," said Charmaine.

"I'm afraid he might be ignoring my calls because he thinks I'm trying to contact him about investing money or some such thing. That's why I decided to seek you out. I would prefer to speak to him away from his place of employment. This is really a matter I need to discuss with him privately. Also, I need his address for purposes of correspondence."

Charmaine hesitated. "He doesn't like people knowing where he lives."

"Well, I can understand that," said Tess evenly, though her heart was thudding. This was the critical hurdle. "If you prefer, maybe you could contact him for me and tell him about our conversation."

Charmaine seemed to give the matter some thought. "No. I'd rather he thought I didn't know about it. Is it a lot of money?"

Tess suppressed a sigh of relief. It was going to work. She could see the calculations going on behind Charmaine's eyes. She and Rusty Bosworth were not yet divorced. Community property had not yet been legally divided. Charmaine wanted to give her estranged husband enough rope to hang himself. When, in listing his a.s.sets, he failed to mention having this account, she would be able to catch him in a deception in front of the lawyers or the court. Obviously Charmaine was trying to achieve a higher spiritual plane, but when it came to Rusty, she could be as ruthless as any injured spouse.

"It's a considerable sum," said Tess. "Of course, it may have to be divided among a number of people."

"Oh no," said Charmaine. "Rusty has no other family. He had one cousin but he's...deceased."

"I see. So Mr. Bosworth would be the sole heir."

"Yes," Charmaine said eagerly.

Tess fumbled for a notepad and pen in her purse, trying to conceal both the hope and the distress that this news caused her. No siblings. No cousins. It had to be Rusty Bosworth who had colluded with Lazarus. And it also had to be the police chief who had abducted her son. Tess tried to calm herself, so that her hands wouldn't shake as she wrote in the notepad. "All right," said Tess, "if you could just give me that address."

"He's renting a condo out by the Stone Hill Mountain ski area. Two-fifty-three B Millwood."

"And his home phone?" Tess asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she wrote.

"He doesn't want me to have it," said Charmaine.

"Really," Tess murmured.

"I know. Do you wonder why we're separated?"

"Charmaine," Sally called out softly from behind the screen.

"I'm coming, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," said Sally. "I just need to turn over."

"I'll help you. Just a sec."

"I won't keep you any longer," said Tess. "Thanks so much for your help."

"Don't bother going over to his place right now," Charmaine advised. "He's got a big case going on. He won't be home till all hours."

"That's fine," Tess said. "Thanks again." She forced herself to smile and make a serene exit, despite the fact that she wanted to take off at a run. The tinkling sounded behind her as Tess closed the door and Charmaine returned to Sally Morris. Now, Tess thought, she had all the information she needed. As she started up Main Street, a s.h.i.+ny black Mercedes pulled into the handicapped parking s.p.a.ce in front of Charmaine's storefront. Chan Morris got out, arriving to pick up his wife from her therapy. His soft, black hair was instantly disheveled by the wind and he pushed it back off his face.

Tess averted her gaze and pulled up the collar on her jacket, hurrying up the street toward Kelli's car before Chan saw her. She knew that if he saw her, he would greet her and probably want to start asking questions. She couldn't afford to have her ident.i.ty revealed to Charmaine, who might glance out the front window and see them talking together. She didn't want Charmaine asking Chan how he knew June Terkel. No, Tess thought. That was not going to happen. She had the information and now she needed to get to her son. Hang on, Erny, she thought. I'm on my way.

CHAPTER 26.

The trees along Millwood Road were still ablaze with the last of the autumn leaves. The road had once been a scenic pathway to the summit of Stone Hill Mountain. Now interspersed among the trees, on both sides of the road, were vacation condos built by developers from New York and Boston. From Thanksgiving to March, when snow was on the ground, the Millwood area was abuzz with luxury cars topped by ski racks and colorfully arrayed, well-to-do weekend athletes from out of state. Today, a weekday in late October, showed signs that the area was beginning to awaken. A few of the ski shops had opened and there was some light traffic up and down the mountain, but it was still very quiet.

Tess drove slowly along the winding road. Some of the condos, mainly the newer ones, were designed with a perfunctory nod to the surroundings, with crisscrossed wooden timbers on the facade to suggest ski chalets in the Alps. The most recently built were designed as more businesslike structures with false stucco facades, garages underneath, and even a convenience store incorporated into the complex. 253B Millwood was clearly one of the oldest buildings, functional but not luxurious. It was neither cleanly modern, nor charmingly quaint. It was built in a quad style and had begun to look a little bit shabby. Tess pulled into one of the visitor's parking s.p.a.ces provided beside the complex and sat, s.h.i.+vering in the warm idling car. Now that she was here, she knew she had to be careful about how she proceeded. It seemed unlikely to her that there would be security cameras or the kind of patrolling that one might find in a newer kind of complex in the Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., area, for example. Most people only used these units seasonally and rarely kept anything of value in them except for their ski equipment. Even so, Tess wondered how Rusty was able to procure one of the units for rental, but then she reminded herself that he was the chief of police. He undoubtedly had some influence among the developers of these condo warrens. Influence enough to have a spare unit at his disposal.

Tess looked up at the bland beige building with its cedar s.h.i.+ngle roof and windows that overlooked the mountainside. Erny, are you in there? she thought. How did he get you inside without anyone noticing? Or did he take you somewhere else? Somewhere more private, where it would be easier to stash an abducted child.

Tess shook her head. She couldn't think about that. She had to find out about this place first. If she couldn't find her son here, then she would face the worry of where else in this vast area he might be hidden. Right now she had to get inside 253B. She turned off the engine and, feeling the rapid cadence of her own heartbeat, stepped out of the car.

Looking all around to be sure she wasn't seen, she slipped inside the outer door of number 253 to the tiny vestibule where the four mailboxes for the quad of condos were located. She wondered, with a sinking feeling, if anyone was home in any of them, someone who might buzz her in if she pressed their bell. She tried all four b.u.t.tons, but with no luck. No answering buzz released the catch on the door. Erny, she thought. Are you in there? Can you hear the buzz and know that someone is here and close to finding you? She thought about going around to the back. Maybe if she could figure out which window belonged to the B unit, she could peer in and see something-some sign of her son. She was just about to leave the vestibule when a dirty dented compact car pulled into the parking area and a skinny woman of about forty, dressed in jeans and a sweats.h.i.+rt, got out. She reached into the backseat of the car for a paper shopping bag and then came toward the vestibule. Tess immediately began to rummage in her bag, as if she were searching for her key. The woman pulled the door open, came in, and smiled at Tess. Her entire face crinkled into folds. "Couldn't be much gloomier out there, could it?" she asked pleasantly.

Tess smiled back. "No, it really couldn't."

The woman inserted her key in the lock and turned it. "Can't find your key?" she said sympathetically.

"I'll find it," said Tess.

The woman shrugged, but did not hold the outer door open for her. She went through and down the hall, carrying her bag. Tess just managed to catch it by shoving her toe in before the door locked shut again. Tess held it open just an inch while she waited for the woman to get into her own apartment. Tess felt her heart hammering as she heard the sound of a door opening and then slamming shut down the hall. Luckily there was no one pa.s.sing by to see Tess lingering in the vestibule of the quad. After a couple of minutes had pa.s.sed, Tess thought it was probably safe. She pushed the door open and looked down the hall. There were two doors on each side. The near doors were marked A and D. That meant the far doors were B and C. She walked down the hallway to B and tried the k.n.o.b. Of course it did not open. From the place next door she could hear a loud humming, as if from an air conditioner or a fan. It created enough white noise to mask her voice. She put her mouth to the door and said, in as loud a voice as she dared, "Erny. Erny, are you in there? Erny, it's Mom. Can you hear me? Can you make a sound?"

There was no reply from inside. Thankfully, though, none of the other doors opened. Tess looked in frustration at the doork.n.o.b. How did you unlock a lock? She'd seen people do it in the movies with a bobby pin or a credit card. She had to try. She reached into her purse and pulled out a credit card from her wallet. With trembling hands she inserted it between the door and frame and pulled up. Nothing happened. She tried it again and pulled the credit card out. Then she reached for the doork.n.o.b and twisted it in frustration. Still nothing. "Erny," she cried in a low urgent voice, bending toward the crack between door and frame.

The white noise stopped abruptly and Tess straightened up. Then, to her shock, the door of Rusty Bosworth's apartment opened in front of her face. The skinny wrinkled woman from the vestibule was standing there and she started at the sight of Tess.

She put a scrawny hand against her chest. "Oh, you scared me. I thought I heard something, but I had the vacuum going."

Tess was too taken aback to speak for a moment. "I'm sorry. I thought...I mean, I thought that...Rusty Bosworth..."

"Oh, sorry. I'm Vivian. I clean for Chief Bosworth," the woman explained. Then she frowned. "Didn't I just see you in the foyer?"

"Yes," said Tess. "I...I was looking for...him."

"Chief Bosworth's not here," Vivian said. Then she stared out at Tess suspiciously. "How'd you get in the building anyway? I thought you said you lived here."

Tess's mind was reeling. If Erny were in there, surely this woman would know it. She would have noticed something, even though she had not been in the condo for long. And Vivian obviously came and went as she pleased. She must have her own key. Surely Rusty Bosworth wouldn't have dared to try to hide Erny in a place where his cleaning lady could come and go at will.

"h.e.l.lo?" said Vivian, waving her fingers in front of Tess's eyes. "How did you get in?"

"Oh," said Tess, recovering as best she could. "I'm sorry. I do...I live here...across the hall."

The woman folded her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Borrowing a cup of sugar?"

"I was here...with...Rusty last night," said Tess. "I think I may have left my...gla.s.ses here."

The cleaning woman pressed her lips together and a spot of color appeared in her weathered cheeks. "Oh."

"Would you mind if I came in and looked for them?"

"I can look for you. Where were you sitting?"

Tess edged her way through the door. "Well, here...on the sofa. And...in the bedroom."

Vivian cleared her throat. "I'll have a look in there," she said brusquely, indicating the hallway to the bedroom. "You can check the sofa."

"Thanks," said Tess. She waited for Vivian to disappear down the hall and then she looked around frantically, opening every door and cupboard in the combination living room/kitchen and dining area.

"Were they in a case?" Vivian called out.

"No," said Tess. "They have blue frames. They might be in the bathroom."

"I'm looking," Vivian called back.

Tess closed the doors on the home entertainment console and stood up with an oppressive heaviness in her heart. Erny wasn't here. There was no way that the chief would have left him for the cleaning woman to find. Not if he knew she was coming. And most cleaning people worked on a schedule.

Tess looked helplessly around the room. There were few personal effects to warm up the chilly, cookie-cutter look of the condo. There were exactly two framed school photos of children, set up on the coffee table, and a fish that looked fake, mounted on a large, wooden plaque. The plaque was propped up against the side of the entertainment center, as if waiting to be hung up. Tess picked it up. Beneath the fish and behind a gla.s.s window was a faded photo of a redheaded kid holding up an enormous fish. Tess realized, to her surprise, that it was the selfsame fish on the plaque. Not fake, after all, but stuffed. For a moment, Tess marveled at the skill of the taxidermist and couldn't help thinking how Erny would covet such a trophy.

Tess looked more closely at the photo and realized that the redheaded boy in the photo, standing on the dock proudly displaying his catch, was a young Rusty Bosworth. Crouched beside him in the photo was another older boy who was homely and wore gla.s.ses. The older boy had a hangdog look, as if he was disappointed, or maybe a little ashamed, not to be the lucky angler. With a start of revulsion, Tess suddenly recognized him. She was looking at Rusty and Lazarus Abbott as youngsters. Nothing about Lazarus Abbott betrayed the monster he would become. He looked like any other awkward adolescent. She squinted at the photo trying to see past Lazarus's expression. But there was nothing to see. Just a boy at a lake on a summer's day.

A round-faced, red-haired man, probably Rusty's father, stood behind Rusty, proudly resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. Perhaps, even at that moment, he was planning to have the fish stuffed and mounted for his son. Behind Lazarus, a lanky, black-haired man in a T-s.h.i.+rt looked on enviously, almost angrily, as Rusty displayed his catch. In an instant, Tess recognized those angry eyes. It was Nelson Abbott. A thinner, younger version, his face unlined, but Nelson Abbott without a doubt. Tess set the plaque back down beside the entertainment center. It was a memento of a fis.h.i.+ng trip that had ended in glory for one cousin and ignominy for the other. Still, it gave Tess a disorienting feeling of having forgotten something.

"Nope," said Vivian, coming back into the room. "I didn't find 'em. Did you? I looked high and low."

Tess looked up. "No. I don't know. I'll ask Rusty to look for them."

"Okay," said Vivian. "Sorry I couldn't help you."

"I'll let you get back to work," said Tess. "Thanks."

"No trouble," said Vivian.

Vivian closed the door behind her and Tess felt as if her last hope had been closed off with that door. Tess closed her eyes. Where is my son, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d? she shouted at Rusty Bosworth in her mind. Where are you keeping him? Tess heard the whine of the vacuum again, now realizing that the sound was actually emanating from inside the chief's apartment. Vivian would clean every inch of that condo, Tess thought. Wherever Erny might be, Tess knew that she would not find him here.

CHAPTER 27.