Dark Horse

41

Molly's call came on the heels of Landry's. I was already pulling on clothes. I told her I would go to the hospital, though I knew I wouldn't get anywhere near Erin's room. If Bruce Seabright caught sight of me, I would end up being escorted from the building. If he had the right kind of pull with the right people, and had gotten a restraining order from a judge on a Sunday night, I could end up taking a ride to the county accommodations. I had been warned, after all.

All that said, I didn't think twice about going.

When I walked into the waiting room, Molly came running to me. She was pale with fear, eyes bright with excitement. The contradiction was the difference between relief that her sister was safe and apprehension about what might have happened to her that she had to be in a hospital.

"I can't believe Bruce let you come along," I said.

"He didn't. I rode with Mom. They're having a fight."

"Good for Mom," I muttered, steering her to the couches in the waiting area. "What are they fighting about?"

"Mom blames Bruce for Erin being hurt. Bruce keeps saying he did what he thought was best."

Best for Bruce, I thought.

"Will you get to talk to her?" Molly asked.

"Not anytime soon."

"Will I get to?"

Poor kid. She looked so hopeful, yet so afraid of disappointment. She didn't have anyone in this mess but me. In her mind, the big sister she loved so much was her only real family. And who knew what resemblance there would be in Erin now compared to the Erin whom Molly had idolized just a week ago. Knowing what I had learned about Erin over the last few days, I had to think Molly's perception had been a dream even before Erin had been taken.

I remembered thinking, the day Molly had first come to me, that Molly Seabright was going to learn that life is full of disappointments. I remembered thinking she would have to learn that lesson the way everyone did: by being let down by someone she loved and trusted.

I wished I could have had the power to shield her from that. The only thing I could do was not be another someone who let her down. She had come to me when no one should have, and bet on that dark horse I had tried to lecture Landry about.

"I don't know, Molly," I said, touching her head. "You probably won't get to see her tonight. It might be a day or so."

"Do you think she's been raped?" she asked.

"It's a possibility. The doctor will have examined her and taken certain kinds of samples-"

"A rape kit," she said. "I know what it is. I watch New Detectives. If she was raped, they'll have DNA samples to match to a suspect. Unless he was particularly meticulous and used a condom, and made her take a shower afterward. Then they won't have anything."

"We have Erin," I said. "That's all that matters right now. Maybe she can identify the kidnappers. Even if she can't, we're going to get these guys, Molly. You hired me to do a job. I won't quit until it's over. And it's not over until I say so."

It was a good line at the time. In the end, I would come to wish that I hadn't meant it.

"Elena?" Molly said, looking up at me with her earnest face. "I'm still scared. Even with Erin back, I still feel scared."

"I know you do."

I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against me. It was one of those small moments that I knew would remain stamped in my memory forever. Someone turning to me for comfort, and me being able to give it.

From somewhere in the ER came a crash and a scream and a lot of shouting. I looked down the hall that ran behind where Molly and I were sitting, and saw Bruce Seabright backing away from a door, looking stunned. Then Landry came out of the same room pushing a sobbing, hysterical Krystal along ahead of him.

"I'll find out what I can," I told Molly, knowing it was time to make myself disappear. "Call me in the morning."

She nodded.

I went past the reception desk to the ladies' room and ducked inside, betting Krystal wouldn't be far behind me. She came in half a minute later, crying, mascara striping her face, her lipstick smudged.

I felt sorry for her. In some ways Krystal was more a child than Molly. All her life she'd dreamed of having a respectable husband and a nice home and all the trappings. She had never imagined living the Barbie Doll life would have the same pitfalls as living poor. I'm sure it had never occurred to her that making bad choices in men crossed all socioeconomic borders.

She leaned against the counter, hanging her head over the sink, her face distorted with emotional anguish.

"Krystal? Can I help?" I asked, knowing I couldn't.

She looked up at me, swiping tears and snot from her face with her hands. "What are you doing here?"

"Molly called me. I know Erin is back."

"She hates me. She hates me, and I don't blame her," she confessed. She looked at herself in the mirror and spoke to her reflection. "Everything's ruined. Everything's ruined!"

"You've got your daughter back."

Krystal shook her head. "No. Everything is ruined. What am I going to do?"

I would have started by taking Bruce Seabright to the cleaners in divorce court, but then I'm the bitter, vindictive type. I chose not to offer that advice. Whatever decisions this woman would come to, she would have to come to them herself.

"She blames Bruce," she said.

"Don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But it's my fault really. It's all my fault."

"Krystal, your life is none of my business," I said. "And God knows you probably won't listen to me, but I'm going to say this anyway. Maybe it is all your fault. Maybe you've made nothing but bad choices your whole life. But your life is not over, and Erin's life is not over, and Molly's life is not over. You still have time to do something right.

"You don't know me," I went on, "so you don't know that I'm an expert on the subject of fucking up one's own life. But I've recently discovered that every day I get another shot at it. So do you."

Ladies' room psychology. I felt like I should have offered her a linen hand towel and hoped she would leave a tip for me in a basket on the counter.

A large woman in a purple Hawaiian mumu came in the door and gave Krystal and me the glare, like she thought we were hogging the room to have lesbian sex. I glared back at her and she turned sideways and waddled into a stall.

I went out in the hall. Bruce Seabright was in the waiting area near the exit, having an argument with Detective Weiss and Lieutenant Dugan. Landry was nowhere in sight. I wondered if anyone had let Armedgian know about Erin's escape. He would want in on the interview in the hopes that Erin would finger Van Zandt as one of her kidnappers.

There seemed to be nothing for me to do but wait until the hostile forces left. I would hold out in the parking lot, stake out Landry's car. If I could get a moment alone with him, I would.

I turned and went down the hall in search of a cup of bad coffee.

T he doctor offered Erin Seabright a stronger sedative. Erin snapped at the woman to leave her alone. The fragile flower flashing her thorns, Landry thought. He hung back in the corner, saying nothing as he watched the girl order the doctor from the room. She turned then and looked at him.

"I just want it to be over," she said. "I just want to go to sleep and wake up and have it be over."

"It won't be that easy, Erin," he said, coming forward to take his seat again. "I'll be straight with you. You're only halfway through the ordeal. I know you want it to be over. Hell, you wish it had never happened. So do I. But you've got a job now to help us catch the people who did this to you so they can't do it to someone else.

"I know you've got a little sister. Molly. I know you wouldn't want to imagine what happened to you happening to her."

"Molly." She said her sister's name, and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Molly's a pretty cool kid," Landry said. "All she's wanted from the beginning of this is to have you back, Erin."

The girl dabbed at her swollen eyes with a tissue and breathed a shaky sigh, preparing herself, settling herself to tell him her story.

"Do you know who did this to you, Erin?" Landry asked.

"They wore masks," she said. "They never let me see their faces."

"But they spoke to you? You heard their voices. And maybe you recognized a voice or a mannerism or something."

She didn't answer yes, but she didn't answer no either. She sat very quietly, her eyes on her hands neatly folded in her lap.

Landry waited.

"I think I know who one of them was," she said softly. Fresh tears filled her eyes as the emotions welled up inside her. Disappointment, sadness, hurt.

She touched a hand to her forehead, partly shielding her eyes. Trying to hide from the truth.

"Don," she whispered at last. "Don Jade."