Look Again

"How do you know?"

"Carol said so. She said Moore was supposed to give the baby back but he didn't. That she had gambling debts and had to use her son's trust fund to pay them off."

"That's not possible!" Bill shot back, and Officer Halbert looked over at him, but didn't say anything.

Ellen said, "I was surprised, too, but she did. Moore said it was all her idea."

"How would she even know Moore? There's no way she knew such trash."

Ellen thought a minute, remembering the ugly scene, her stomach tense. "She said they met at a casino. Miccosukee, I think they said. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Bill blinked.

"What is Miccosukee?" Halbert interjected.

"It's a casino, on an Indian reservation outside of Miami," Bill answered, and Ellen breathed a relieved sigh.

"Moore said he was a parking valet there."

Bill asked, "He said she had gambling debts?"

"Yes." Ellen could see he didn't believe her, but something she said had hit home, she just didn't know what. She continued and told them every detail of what had happened, from Carol's entering the house to when Moore pulled the gun on them in the dining room. "He said that Carol had used up her trust fund money to pay her gambling debts and that she wanted to use Will's, er, Timothy's money."

Bill's eyes narrowed. "Who said that?"

"Moore did, and she didn't deny it. How else would I have known it?"

Bill had no reply, and Officer Halbert remained silent, watching the two of them.

Ellen continued, "She said you didn't know anything about the plan. She said you were so upset when he kept the baby that it almost killed you, and that it ruined your marriage."

Bill scoffed. "We have a wonderful marriage."

Ellen hesitated. "I saw you catch a plane a few days ago, from Miami to Vegas."

Bill's eyelids fluttered when he got her meaning, and he raked a hand through his hair. "Okay, well, we did have problems. We tried so hard to have Timothy, and after we did, it was like Carol didn't want anything to do with him. She had postpartum depression, I guess that's what it was. She'd always gambled, poker on the computer, but then it got worse. I confronted her, and she told me she was going to casinos. She told me she would stop. I thought she had." Bill's eyes glistened, and he hung his head. "I told her if she kept gambling, I'd leave her and take Timothy."

"Maybe that's why she kept it from you."

"I'm sure," Bill said, suddenly subdued, and Ellen saw a change in him, as if together, they were solving a puzzle, each providing some of the pieces.

She asked, "I'm curious, how would she pay the debts off with the ransom? How did that work?"

Officer Halbert and the other cops seemed to wait for his answer, and Bill rubbed his face.

"Lemme think. The kidnapper, when he phoned, this Moore, said that no FBI or police could be involved, and we went along with it. He also said the mother had to deliver the money. I said no, I was worried about her safety. I didn't want to send my wife out there to meet a killer." Bill's lips flattened. "But Carol said she wanted to do it by herself. She said she felt responsible because she didn't get Timothy out of the car in time, and I believed her."

Ellen could see why he'd believed her. She looked like the perfect wife and mother. The Mother Goose outfit; the children's theater at Charbo

Bill shook his head. "We got the money from Timothy's trust, which was set up by my in-laws. They were very wealthy. The executor is a lawyer in town and he approved it, and before Carol made the delivery, she must have taken some cash off the top. God knows how much or where she hid it. That must be what she used to pay off her debts."

Ellen considered it, and it made sense. "She skimmed the money before she turned it over, and Moore must have agreed. How did she deliver it?"

"In a gym bag, he specified that."

"Did you check the bag?"

"No, why would I?" Bill kept shaking his head. "We packed it, she took it, and she left with it."

Ellen had no answer. It was an ingenious scheme, until it wasn't.

"If Moore had given Timothy back, the plan would have worked. It would have been fine. But he killed our babysitter and he kept Timothy. God knows why."

Ellen told him that Amy wanted the baby because she couldn't have one herself, and Bill's eyes widened in disbelief.

"So why not keep him then?"

"He got sick, as you know. Carol said she'd read my articles about him."

"I read them, too."

"So when I wanted to adopt him from the hospital, Timothy Braverman became Will Gleeson."

Bill's upper lip curled in disgust. "Someone can put a baby that isn't theirs up for adoption and get away with it? You'd think that somebody, the state or some agency, would catch that. You think they'd do background checks or something so this doesn't happen."

Ellen agreed. "They do background checks on the adopting parent, like me, but they don't do them on the women putting their baby up for adoption. Fu

Bill sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I just ca

"Desperate people do desperate things." Ellen paused, feeling an odd sort of peace that came either from perspective or exhaustion. "She's beyond judgment now. She came up with a terrible solution to a terrible problem, one that resulted in a murder, and eventually, even her own."

Officer Halbert interjected, "I'm looking at two parents, and both of you love the same boy. Neither of you did anything wrong. It's a lose-lose situation, and I'm sorry for you both."

"Thanks," Ellen said, having nothing better to say, and Bill sighed again, looking at her with new eyes. He had learned the truth, and his truth was as terrible as hers.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, and Ellen nodded, trying not to cry.

"Me, too." Then she added, because it needed saying, "It sounds awful now, but I want to tell you how Carol died, because she redeemed herself. She gave her life, for W. For Timothy. She saved his life."

"What happened?" Bill's lip trembled, and Ellen told him the story, after which he heaved a great sob, then collapsed into hoarse, choking sounds that hunched his broad shoulders, collapsing his frame and driving his face into his hands, in his own private hell.

There was a soft knock at the doorway, and the emergency-room nurse appeared, leaning into the room. "Ellen, your son is back from X-ray."

"How is he?" she asked, rising.

"The doctor will give you a full report," she answered, and Ellen went to the door.

"No, wait." Bill looked up from his hands, his eyes red and his cheeks tear-stained. He gave a mighty sniffle. "I'm his father. Can I go in, too?"

Ellen turned to him. "If you don't mind, Bill, would you not? It might upset him. I'll be sure to come out and tell you."

"He's all I have, now. For God's sake, I just lost my wife."

"This isn't about you or me. It's about W."

"Timothy," Bill corrected, rising. He wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Whatever his name, he needs comfort now. He needs me." Ellen watched as Bill's eyes hardened, even wet. "Please, be realistic. He doesn't know who you are yet. You're a stranger to him."

Officer Halbert stood up, too. "Mr. Braverman, she adopted him, and she's still his mother."

"She was never his real mother," Bill shot back, and Ellen swallowed hard, but the ER nurse raised an authoritative hand in Bill's direction.

"Sir, are you listed as next of kin on the intake form?"

"No."

"Well, Ms. Gleeson is. She's on the form as his mother, and only she can be admitted to the unit, per this hospital's regulations. You are not permitted back with us."