“She got to start over. Her life wasn’t ruined—it got better. She married an even richer asshole and got a fancy job at a big hospital. Her kid was running off on her. Did you know that? When I grabbed her, she’d ditched her regular phone in the garbage and was heading for the T. Her nanny didn’t have a clue about it, either. No one gave a damn until I made them care.”
“You were making a point. I think it worked.”
“You’re damn right it worked.”
“But you don’t want to hurt Chloe. It’s not her fault who her mother is.”
“She’s better off this way.”
A chill went through Ellery at the finality of his words. “Where is she now?”
Bobby looked down at the swirling water and rocks below. He did not answer.
“Bobby, where is Chloe?” she asked, her voice low and urgent.
A thrashing noise at the tree line jerked Bobby’s attention from the water. Reed appeared, huffing and puffing from having run straight up the steep incline. “Cops are like friggin’ rats,” Bobby muttered. “Where there’s one, there’s dozens more you can’t see.” He turned his fevered gaze to the trees as if searching them out. “Go ahead!” he yelled into the forest, spreading his arms wide. “Shoot me.”
He staggered forward, his bare toes at the precipice of the stone column. A few more millimeters and he’d tumble to the rocks below. “Bobby, listen to me. No one wants to shoot you. We want to help you.”
“It’s too late,” he said, his tone turning mournful. His gun dangled from his right hand, maybe four feet now from Ellery. “Tell Lisa I’m sorry.” The hand with the gun started to rise.
“No!” she shouted, and surged through the water at the same time, closing the gap between them with a single desperate lunge. She knocked the gun free and it sailed over the edge into the ravine. Bobby tried to leap after it. “No!” she cried again, clutching for him as he slipped on the wet rocks and slid down into the waterfall.
He grabbed her arm. She almost went with him. He sputtered as water poured into his face. “Ellery!” Reed screamed her name from the shoreline.
“Hang on. I’ve got you.” Bobby had hold of her, really. She needed all her strength to keep from falling. She panted from the effort required to brace herself on the column, holding both their weight. Her arm felt like it would tear off. Dimly, she heard Reed crashing into the river after them. “Help is coming,” she panted to Bobby. “Hang … on.”
“No,” he gasped around the water that splashed over his face.
The stone scraped her belly, her arm. They slipped farther over the edge. “Where is Chloe?” she said through gritted teeth. “Tell me.”
“She’s gone. In a better place. She’ll be happy.” His wide eyes bored into hers. “So will I.”
He let go and fell straight down onto the rocks. Ellery sobbed and covered her ears instinctively as he hit the ravine. Reed reached her at that moment, pulling her from the edge as they fell backward together into the river. “I couldn’t stop him!” she cried, completely drenched. She felt drowned, half-dead. She tried to sink back down, but Reed held her up.
“I know. I saw.” He clutched her to his chest, and she heard his heart pounding like a hammer. Far overhead, a helicopter arrived with its searchlight. It found them easily and pinned them with the bright white light. “We need to get to shore,” Reed said. “We need to get help.”
Ellery looked to the edge of the dam and the water coursing over it. She didn’t have to see the body below to know that Bobby was right: it was too late.
30
Reed sat in the waiting room of the E.R. where Ellery was being treated for minor scrapes, a twisted ankle, and a dislocated shoulder. The worst he’d endured was some uncomfortably damp clothes. He sat forward, his head in his hands, trying to stay awake. He had consumed three cups of black coffee already, but far from being energized, he felt smudged at the edges, like a sketch that had been drawn and erased several times. He sat up just in time to spot a familiar figure through the glass doors. Lisa Frick lingered near the rear exit as though she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave. Reed forced himself to his feet so he could go make his condolences.
“Ms. Frick,” he said, and she looked up in surprise. He saw she held the old family photo Bobby had left her at his apartment. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She blinked back tears and showed him the photo. “Everyone in this picture is gone now, except me.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He held out his arms in case she wanted a hug, and she almost fell into him.
“Why did he have to do it? Why did he leave me like this?”
“I don’t know.”
She pulled back, her chin wobbling. “Isn’t that your job? To understand why people do these awful things?”
Reed considered. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
Lisa looked at the exit and then back at him. “They have his body upstairs. I know he’s gone, that he won’t know if I leave, but I can’t make myself go through the doors.”
“Let’s sit.” He walked her to a quiet corner of the waiting room and then went back to the coffee stand once more.
“Just can’t get enough, huh?” The guy behind the counter gave Reed yet another cup of coffee, and he stopped to scoop up a cream and a couple of packets of sugar just in case. Lisa Frick took them all without comment but didn’t move to drink the coffee.
Reed lowered himself into the chair next to her. “People commit suicide because they’re in terrible pain,” he said softly.
“I didn’t know it was this bad.” Her head bowed, tears leaking from her eyes once more. She used the paper napkin Reed had brought to wipe them away and set the coffee on the floor by her feet. “He didn’t tell me.”
“He may not have had the words.”
She took out the picture again and stared at it. “Dad getting killed in the accident was terrible at the time. I had no idea back then that it was just the start.”
“You mentioned that before,” Reed said. “That your father was killed in an accident.”
“He was walking home from work in a storm and a tree fell over on him.”
Reed had seen the police reports. Vincent Frick died from two gunshot wounds to the chest, not a fallen oak. “Who told you about the tree?”
“My mother, I guess. Maybe Beth. I was five at the time, so I don’t really remember.”
Perhaps the family had lied to the young kids to protect them, to help them feel safe after their father’s death. Reed’s family had lied to him for decades out of a misguided attempt to shield him from his origins. Love justified a multitude of sins. And yet. The tragedy that engulfed the Frick family felt like a house on fire, and Reed was not convinced the flames were out. “Beth had a scholarship to Penn,” he said. “Do you know if Ethan Stone had any role in helping her attain it?”
“Maybe? She was so much older than me that she seemed more like a grown-up, another mom. We didn’t talk about her scholarship. I remember Ethan Stone came to the house to pick her up once. He drove a red sports car and everyone came out to see it. Beth waved to us as they drove away.” She leaned back in the seat with a sigh, the old photo on her knee. “You have all these memories, right? They make up the story of your childhood, the one you tell yourself you had. You remember your dad telling ghost stories inside the blanket fort you made. Or your mom making pancakes with curlers still in her hair. Your sister putting on makeup in the bathroom mirror with it all steamy from her shower. Sometimes you have photos, like this one, that line up with your memories. Other times…”