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“I work at a hotel on Sint Pieter, in housekeeping.” A
“But not the hotel from which Jason vanished?”
“No, ma’am, another one.” A
“And what exactly do you claim you saw last night?”
“Well.” A
“Describe him to me.” And at these words, a picture of Jason appeared on the split screen: blondish, handsome enough to be a model, six three, with a wide grin and broad shoulders, dressed in a T-shirt and baggy shorts. Smiling the smile of a man who has his entire and likely quite-happy life before him, and is savoring a particular moment of fun.
“I couldn’t see him well in the shadows. I thought maybe it was an old boyfriend of mine, at first. He was sticking close to the trees, not drawing closer, not really stepping out into the moonlight.” The camera pa
“Do your old boyfriends often stop by late at night?”
“Only one. Who might need money now and then and doesn’t understand I won’t loan him any,” A
A
“Were you afraid?” Nora pounced.
“Not exactly. When I could see him, I just felt this . . . sadness. I can’t describe it; it was strange. He looked lost, like he needed help. Like he was confused. I wanted to comfort him. It’s like I could sense his need—like when you see a lost child.”
Nora’s voice sharpened into a needle. “And then what happened?”
“Well, my neighbor’s dog got roused; it started barking really loud, and the neighbor’s porch lights switched on, and the man just sort of vanished into the divi-divi trees.”
“He ran off?”
“I guess. I didn’t hear him. He stepped back into the shadows and then he was gone. I ran to where he had stood and there was no sign of him.” A
“And you’re sure this was Jason Kirk?”
“At first, ma’am, I wasn’t. Then when I saw his face in the moonlight, clear as day—I knew it was him. He’s been all over the TV here, and the newspapers. I am sure it was him.”
Nora took a moment to let that grab her viewers by the collective throat. “And how did he—this man you thought was Jason—look to you?” Nora said, leaning forward.
“Heartbroken. Pale, like he was ill. Lost, I thought. Strange that he seemed lost when a whole island is looking for him.”
“Did you see anyone else with him?”
“No, ma’am, but it was very dark, cloudy; the moonlight kept coming and going.”
Nora let the words sink in. “A
“Yes, ma’am, I do understand. It was him. I’m as sure of it as I can be.”
“Have you talked to any tabloids or other papers about what you saw?”
“No. I wouldn’t. I’m not selling a story, Ms. Dare. I only wanted to help . . .” A
Nora allowed herself a satisfied smile. Her efforts, as always, were for the public good. “But you see how hard it is to believe that if Jason was in trouble, and you were willing to help, that he ran away simply because the neighbor’s dog started barking.”
“I can’t explain it.”
“And how did the Sint Pieter police respond?”
“They did come out to the house. But I don’t think they believed me, at least not at first.”
“Thank you, A
Nora gave Peert a quick introduction and said, “Is it possible that this young woman’s story is true?”
“I suppose that it is, but we can find no supporting evidence.” He kept his tone carefully neutral.
Oh, Nora thought, I shall enjoy this. He’s done nothing to follow this lead. Get me my cross and nails, boys, it’s hammering time.
“Is it possible that Jason Kirk is alive? Perhaps ill, perhaps wandering in the wilderness on the north side of Sint Pieter?” Nora said.
“Again, we can only postulate,” Inspector Peert said. “Ill and wandering freely for three months seems most unlikely. Surely there would have been other reports of him; our search crews would have found him if he were rambling insensate. If he is alive and roaming the hills, then that suggests that he does not want to be found.”
Nora had to decide whether to play that comment as a hurtful blow to the Kirk family or as an exciting, intriguing new twist in the story’s worn fabric. She tilted her head again—she was known for the beauty and forcefulness of the head tilt—and decided the audience was hungry for a bit of the inspector’s flesh. “Why would Jason Kirk be in hiding? Nothing in this boy’s past suggests a desire to be away from his family. They are an absolutely wonderful, upstanding family, Inspector.” She said this with a convincing thunder, as if Peert held the opposite view.
“No one knows what goes on in the human heart,” Peert said quietly. “But I will say that I believe A
That was a news bomb. Nora was speechless for a minute; Molly should have known that tidbit and warned her about it.
Peert pressed on: “If she saw him, then Jason Kirk is not in trouble; he is hiding from us.”
It was not fair. It was not what Nora was expecting. It was not a dodge. And if Jason Kirk was simply hiding out on the island—well, then, he was simply a spoiled brat who’d driven his parents nearly mad with grief. And made Nora look like a fool in front of millions.
This could not be. All of this emotional calculus played out in Nora’s mind in less than five seconds. “If he is hiding, then why?”
“I do not know. We ca
Nora went back on the attack. “How soon will you expand the search in that area?”
Now she heard the steel in Peert’s voice—even through the distance of the satellite hookup—and it infuriated her. “What choice do we have? You have turned American opinion against our entire nation. We have searched for this young man as if he were one of our own. We have followed every slim lead, and we have allowed your federal agents to comb our sovereign territory. We have endured your abuse and your i