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The car with the Kirks screeched to a stop, and she heard Hope screaming, “Jason! Jason!”
Nora ignored her and ran into the scrubby backyard. No lights on in the yard. A dim light burned in the kitchen. The back door—where Jason had come to—stood open.
“A
She stepped inside. A small, modest back entry, then a kitchen. The tile was worn and peeling but the room was spotless. A di
Nora walked quickly through the house. No sign of A
No Jason.
Gary and Hope Kirk tore through the house, and in the still distance Nora heard the rising cry of police sirens.
“He’s not here.”
“Was he ever?” Hope Kirk screamed at her. “My God. Is this a trick?”
“She said he was here.”
“Well, she’s not and he’s not. This is just a sick prank. I can’t—I ca
“We are done with you,” he said to Nora. “I mean, what was this stunt? Invented drama for the ratings? An exclamation point on the whole awful evening of revisiting our loss? Did you put this young woman up to this? Did you just need some damn footage, Nora?” His voice rose into a roar.
“No, of course not . . .” Nora’s voice trailed off. “She said he was here. She said he was.” And now she saw in the doorway Inspector Peert, with his lemon-sucking scowl. She turned back to Gary Kirk.
“We counted on you. You wouldn’t let go. You said you wouldn’t forget him. But this . . . tricking us, this is too much,” Gary hissed.
“I had nothing to do with this,” Nora said.
“Yeah, this drama just happens the night you’re filming.”
“Blame A
Peert folded his arms. “Did you hear this woman say she saw Jason?”
“I heard her say she thought it was Jason. But then Nora took the phone . . .”
“Oh, this is too much. Too much!” Nora whirled on Gary Kirk. “You listen to me. I could have helped any missing person anywhere in the world, and I helped your son. I kept this entire island looking for him, and I kept the whole U.S. of A. thinking about him and praying for him to come home safe and sound. Without me, everyone would have forgotten him, just a kid who got drunk and probably drowned in the ocean.” She stopped, slammed a hand over her mouth.
“It was never about him, was it?” Hope Kirk said in a small voice. “It was about you. Always you.”
“Molly, tell them. Tell them what A
“I didn’t hear, Nora, you did.” Molly turned to Peert. “A
“You’re fired, you backstabbing bitch,” Nora said.
“I work for the network, not you,” Molly said in her usual calm voice.
“Find A
“Then what?”
“Nothing. She hung up. But find her, she’ll confirm what I said.”
“I’ll confirm what?” A
Nora lurched toward her, clutched her arm. “You said . . . you said Jason was here.”
A
A long, low moan from Hope Kirk.
“You didn’t speak with Ms. Dare?” Peert said.
“Well, she kept insisting the man must be Jason Kirk, and I got tired of hearing her say that and I hung up.” A
“Oh my God, this is insane!” Nora said. “In-freaking-sane. I had an entire conversation with her. She said he came to the door, she was afraid of him, she could see him at the door, she said hello to him . . .”
A
Nora grabbed her, shook her. A
FOUR in the morning. Nora lay dozing. The echoes of the past hours: the real fear in A
And all she’d tried to do was to bring a boy home, safe and sound.
A breeze poured in from the open balcony window. She was on the top floor of the Hotel Sint Pieter, where she belonged, and having drunk half the minibar when she got back to her room, her body felt feverish from the alcohol. She got up; the cooling ocean breeze was a relief. She was groping toward the bathroom when Jason Kirk said, behind her, “You made it very hard for me.”
She froze. She shook her head, as if to settle her imagination back into its distant corner of her brain. Then he said the words again, and she spun in stark terror.
Jason Kirk stood on the balcony, kissed by moonlight. The wind ruffled his light hair slightly.
She tried to scream and she couldn’t. Oddest thing. She sank to her knees.
He said, in a voice barely louder than the ocean wind, “You keep telling people you will never forget, you will never stop looking. Safe and sound, right?” He shook his head. “I needed you to stop looking. Do you know how hard it’s been?”
Nora’s mouth worked. How had he gotten here? It wasn’t possible. Not possible.
He looked better than his photos and his videos. Handsome face, high cheekbones. Even in the broken moonlight he had dark eyes, pools of black that could let you fall into their depths.
“May we talk?”
Nora nodded, and he stepped into the room.
“You’re alive,” she said. “Oh my God. Jason, the story this will be.”
“There is no story. You would let it go on forever, or as long as you could use me. There is no story. I need for there to be no story.”
She hardly heard him, her mind spi
“You don’t see how cruel that would be? I have to be . . . dead to my mom and dad. I have to stay that way.”
“I don’t understand.” She groped for the lamp, clicked it on. “Were you at A
“The tasty little maid? Yes. She only remembers what I want her to. I won’t bother her again.” He took a step toward her. He wore old jeans, a worn soccer jersey, and a long low cap favored by Sint Pieter toughs. Like clothes she’d seen on the neighbor’s clothesline at A
“I don’t understand . . .”
“I wanted to draw you here, bait you with what you couldn’t resist. Me, on the verge of safe and sound. To bring you to me. Because you put my face everywhere, I couldn’t come to you to stop you. I couldn’t get near a boat or a plane or anything else. I needed you to come to me so we could have our chat.” He crossed his arms. “I need you to shut up about me, Nora.”
“I can . . . now that you’re found.” She nearly felt giddy. That little bitch Molly would be gone. The Kirks would see that she’d only meant the best. And having broken this case open, having personally brought their son home, she would be the undisputed queen of cable news.