CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

It was nearly three o’clock when Jack returned from Tony’s apartment. Slumping onto a chair at the kitchen table, he fell asleep, forehead resting on the place mat. He dreamed that Marianna was standing in the field by the garage. The sun was gleaming on her hair. He walked over and she turned. But it was the impostor, whoever she was, not Marianna, and her eye sockets were hollow. He went into the house looking for Marianna, but in the kitchen he found Kaitlyn and Zellie making pasta. While Kaitlyn kneaded dough, Zellie cranked the machine and strands of spaghetti cascaded like a waterfall over the edge of the table. They ignored him. Back outside it was spring, the apple tree in blossom. Marianna had returned to Ukraine.

“Jack.”

He opened his eyes. Zoë stood there, tightening the belt of her housecoat. “Don’t tell me you’ve been here all night.”

Early morning light filtered through a yellow curtain above the sink. The left side of his face was numb. She rested a hand on his shoulder and the recollection of why he had gone out to talk with Tony flooded through him like ice water. He thought of Witner.

“Zoë, I have to fill you in on something.”

“Talk while I’m making coffee,” she said. He followed her into the kitchen, his legs and neck stiff. He needed a shave and a shower. “The girls are still asleep. I haven’t seen Vlada yet. I hope she rested well. That bed’s a little hard but it’s better than a hotel.”

“I’m sure it was,” Jack responded.

“Lord, Jack, I hope Kaitlyn is settled. That was awful. I feel so bad for her.”

“Zoë, I don’t suppose you’ve noticed the police car in the driveway yet.”

She stopped pouring water into the coffee maker and looked at him. “Why is there a police car in the driveway?”

Her face went slack as he described Witner’s escape. “It’s unlikely he’d come here, but they’re not taking chances.”

“I’m grateful for that, at any rate,” she said. Coffee began dripping into the carafe. “I wonder what’s going to happen next. Maybe an earthquake. That would be interesting. Or a volcano erupting out back. By the way, Vlada is very nice, but I’m not sure I believe her story. The hotels in New Canterbury are never full unless there’s a big football game. Maybe you just wanted her to stay here. Are you not telling me something?”

“She can be trusted, I’m sure.”

“That wasn’t my question. So, if the police want us to stay in the house until your friend Witner is caught, Kaitlyn won’t be going to school. With what happened yesterday, I’m not sure she’d even want to. Julia’s preschool doesn’t start back until next week, so we’re fine there. Assuming that monster isn’t still running amok.”

“They’ll get him.”

“Vlada will be stuck with us here too. She didn’t pack very much. I can give her some of Zellie’s clothes from the closet. They’re close in size.”

Jack hesitated. She caught his expression. “Does that bother you?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine.”

She handed him a cup. “Good. It’s time you cleaned it out anyway.”

He heard footsteps in the hallway. Marianna entered, still in Zoë’s old robe. “Good morning,” she said.

“And a good morning to you,” said Zoë. “How did you sleep?”

“Most well, thank you. Dr. Forester gave me some whiskey before sleeping and it helped.”

“Did he? Wasn’t that nice of him.”

“Bed is comfortable. House is warm. Dr. Forester, you look rumpled. Did you not sleep?”

“He never made it to bed,” said Zoë. “Ready for some coffee, Vlada?”

“That would be good, thank you. But I don’t want to cause you work. Let me help.”

“You’ll have your turn. Go sit.”

Marianna took a chair next to Jack. “Why did you not go to bed?” she inquired.

He looked at her and lowered his voice. “I discovered something,” he said.

“Tell me.” She lifted the cup and inhaled. “Smells good. Zoë, will you come sit too?”

“In a bit,” Zoë said. “I need to let Kaitlyn know she can sleep in. Jack, you’d better tell Vlada about the police car.”

“I already know of this,” Marianna said. Zoë looked at them, then padded down the hallway. “What did you discover, Dr. Forester?”

“Something hit me last night,” he began. “A thought. An intuition maybe . . .”

“A thought of what?”

“I wondered if Bryson Witner and Potemkin might have any connection.”

“Why would you think that?”

He looked into her eyes and through a trick of light saw his own reflection. “So, I put their names together and searched . . .”

Her brow furrowed. “What did you find?”

“Let me show you.”

They went down the hallway to Jack’s office. “In case you ever want to use this computer, the password is juliA!1415. I’ll write it down for you.” He pulled up a screenshot of the photo he’d found last night taken all those years ago at the coin club in Boston. “That’s Bryon Witner. And you know who the other man is.”

Her eyes widened and she said something in what he assumed was Ukrainian. Then she leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. “Too strange for coincidence.”

“Yes,” he said.

Zoë called out. “Jack!” An instant later she swept into the office, her face flushed. “Kaitlyn’s gone.”

The smaller of Kaitlyn’s two suitcases was missing, along with some of her clothes, her toiletries, and her jacket. Jack phoned the officers in the driveway and detailed the story. “Has anyone seen anything unusual out there?”

“Per the log, sir, there’s just your trips to the barn. Are you sure she’s not hiding in the house somewhere?”

“Let me repeat, officer—we found an open window and a missing suitcase and clothes. She was upset yesterday evening.”

“Do you know when she went missing?”

“I could see a light under her door around one in the morning. But the light was off when we just discovered she was gone. It had to be sometime between then and now.” He heard the officer talking to his partner in the car. Zoë was at the kitchen table with Marianna, their heads close.

“Sir, we’ve only been on station half an hour and we’ve seen nothing. I’ll check with the previous shift.”

He saw Zoë reach for a tissue and sob. Marianna was talking too low for him to hear. Julia came shuffling down the hallway in her pajamas, holding the elephant.

“That would be good, Officer,” Jack said. “And let’s get a search going. There’s a lunatic on the loose out there, as you know. He could be taking advantage of this.”

“We’re aware, sir.”

“I’m going out to the barn now,” Jack said.

“Why?”

“My brother lives out there.”

“Your brother lives in the barn?”

“Didn’t they tell you?”

“The location wasn’t specified. I’ll meet you out there.”

He didn’t bother grabbing his jacket. Tony was just rising. Jack filled him in as Tony dressed. When they got outside, one of the patrolmen was standing there, a cell phone to his ear. A steady cold wind was blowing. The officer had silver hair and red cheeks. “Good morning, Dr. Forester. I’m Officer Daniels. I’ve gotten hold of one of the people on duty last night. Here, you’d better talk to her.” He switched to speaker mode and turned the phone toward Jack.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m Officer Volta. They caught me just as I was about to head home. I saw something last night that might be relevant. Only three cars went by all night. The last one stopped and picked someone up about a tenth of a mile or so west of your driveway, near the curve. We only noticed because it was just getting light, about five forty-five.”

“By the red farmhouse?”

“Yes. I’d assumed someone was getting a ride to work.”

“That house is vacant,” Jack said.

“They moved three years ago, the Millers,” added Tony, coming up next to him.

“That could have been her,” Jack continued. “She might have seen your car and snuck behind the barn. From there she could have gotten to a field where the hedgerow would have hidden her from you.” He looked over in that direction. A row of tall arborvitae swayed in the wind.

“That’s possible,” replied Officer Volta.

“Could you tell if that person you saw getting picked up had a suitcase?” Jack asked.

“No. It was too far and too dark.”

“If you came out here to surveil, I’m surprised you didn’t have the equipment to track the plate numbers going by.”

Her brows rose. “This was a short-notice assignment, sir.”

“I’m not complaining. The important question is who picked her up.”

“You need to file a missing person report,” the officer said.

“I realize that. We just filed one for her not many days ago. Kaitlyn Andersen.”

“I remember. She’s the teenager who was kidnapped. And now she’s run away? Sounds like she needs help. I’m giving you to my sergeant.”

The sergeant came on. “Dr. Forester, I just pulled up the basic information on your niece from the previous file. We’ll get on it. Contact us if she comes back in the meantime.”

Jack shivered as the cold wind cut through his shirt. Tony tapped his shoulder. “Jack, I’m going to go pull the computer from the old car now and bring it to my workshop.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t know.”