The Other: (A Psychological Thriller) Page 17

  “Shay talked to me about everything.” His eyes clouded. “Until she went away.”

  Rox was confused. “You mean just now, in the last few days?”

  “No, before. After my dad died. She went to Seattle and Mother sent me to Mt. Angel.” Logan reached for the car handle. “Then Aunt Shay came back. But she didn’t visit me very often and stopped sharing secrets.”

  What secrets? “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not yet.” Logan smiled and slowly repeated her last word. “E-lab-o-rate. I love that word.” He climbed from the car. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Rox was torn. She itched to go inside with him, yet she was afraid to be seen with Logan, especially if the clinic had cameras. The governor might still press charges.

  Logan scurried toward the entrance, and Rox turned to Marty. “Any theories?”

  His eyes were wide and puzzled. “I’m flummoxed about why we’re here. But Shay Wilmont’s trip to Seattle is starting to seem important.”

  Rox let out a frustrated breath. “Maybe not compared to whatever Logan thinks happened in there.” She nodded toward the fertility clinic.

  “I think I should go in,” Marty said. “I’m the one who hauled him out of the hospital, so if anything goes wrong, I’ll take all the heat.”

  “Give him a minute on his own. I think they’ll tell him to get lost, and he’ll be right back.”

  Marty opened his door. “The kid disappeared on me once already.”

  “That he did.” She nodded. “Go. See what he’s up to.”

  Marty hesitated, then climbed out. “I’ll just hang back and eavesdrop.”

  “Like a PI pro.” She grinned and waved him on.

  He walked toward the entrance, but without his usual hustle. Rox had a flash of worry. What if Marty got arrested? But why would he be? They hadn’t seen Logan’s face on the news, so it was reasonable to assume his mother really didn’t give a shit about him and hadn’t called the police.

  What if the governor didn’t know Logan was missing? The hospital staff could be withholding the information out of fear.

  Rox glanced at her burner phone. A text from Jason had come in: Still waiting on clinic. Sent Logan W. file to your email. And hacked gov’s email for fun. She’s banging the hospital director and her kid is missing from the place. Know anything about that?

  A new fear gripped her. That was the risk of doing business with a hacker. She had to put his suspicions to rest. Rox texted back: What do you mean her kid is missing? More important, I’m looking for complaints about abuse and if Jill Palmer knows about them. Sorry I forgot to list that request.

  She sent the message and looked up at the fertility clinic. Marty was jogging toward the car.

  Oh hell. This had to be bad. She slid over into the driver’s seat and started the engine. A couple seconds later, her stepdad jumped in the passenger’s side. “Let’s go!”

  Rox pressed the accelerator and shot out of the parking lot. “What happened?”

  Marty took a moment to catch his breath. “The kid went a little nuts in there and started shouting and threatening people. Then he bolted into the medical area and disappeared. I got the hell out.”

  Distressed, Rox pulled out and turned away from the main street. “What was Logan shouting about?”

  “He thinks his mother stole his aunt’s embryos.”

  Chapter 35

  Logan found a back door and ran from the medical building. He regretted his outburst, but he’d become frustrated when the staff wouldn’t tell him anything. Now people would think he was not only crazy but also dangerous! Even a lawyer couldn’t keep him out of Mt. Angel now. But he wanted to know everything, and he planned to find out before the men in white shirts scooped him up. His whole life had been so perplexing. Another word he loved. He said it over and over as he ran down a side street, not yet sure what came next.

  He was clear about what he wanted to do though. He just had to conjure up some courage. He’d known about his unusual conception since he was seven. Aunt Shay had told him one day when other kids had made fun of him at a park she’d taken him to. He’d been crying because the mean boys had ruined his trip to one of the few places he ever got to go. Shay had soothingly told him he was unique, that his parents had wanted a baby so badly they’d gone to a doctor to get help. And that his life had started in a clinic where they made special babies. He hadn’t understood what it meant then, but the story had made him feel better.

  Now he knew about in-vitro fertilization… and sex… and how most babies were conceived. But he still had questions. He knew why his mother had sent him to live with Aunt Shay, but why had his dad had gone along with it? He suspected Jill wasn’t really his mother and that Shay was—which would explain why his aunt had always loved him more. Knowing that Shay had gone to the clinic around the same time, Logan had convinced himself that Jill had stolen Shay’s embryo for herself. Or was that wishful thinking? He intended to ask his mother and find out for sure.

  That and a few other things.

  Logan reached a main street and scanned the area for a bus stop. Jill—he refused to think of her as his mother anymore—would be at work in the governor’s office. It was time she told him the truth. Especially about the other boy.

  Chapter 36

  Rox and Marty searched the area around the clinic for half an hour before giving up. She’d gotten out of the car several times to check inside retail businesses where a teenager might hang out, but hadn’t been optimistic. Logan could have hitched a ride with a stranger again, hopped on a bus, or caught a cab. After checking an electronics store, Rox said, “He’s long gone and we have to figure out where.”

  “I’ll bet he went to confront his mother.” Marty pulled out of the parking lot, made a left, and headed toward the capitol building downtown.

  “That would be risky for him,” Rox countered. “And he knows it. Logan doesn’t want to be dragged back to Mt. Angel.”

  “But he’s not thinking clearly,” Marty added. “He’s alone, scared, and confused. Running to mom is a natural reaction.”

  Rox worried he might be right. “Palmer might send him somewhere out of sight this time. Logan was supposed to be transferred to a private facility.” Depression hit her again, and Rox lamented, “We totally failed the boy.”

  “We didn’t fail. We successfully extracted him from Mt. Angel where he was being abused.” Marty made another turn, glancing left and right, still searching. “It’s not our fault his aunt blew him off and Logan chose to run before we could find him a new guardian.”

  “We should have checked out Shay Wilmont more thoroughly.” Rox was irritated with herself for not seeing how flaky their client was. “What if he doesn’t go to see his mother?” Rox turned to Marty, surprised by how emotional she felt. “Logan could become another homeless teenager, living on the streets, doing drugs and prostituting himself.”

  “Stop creating worst-case scenarios. We need a plan for what’s next—if we do get lucky and find him.”

  Rox’s burner phone rang, and it was the number she’d called on the drive down. “It’s the attorney,” she told Marty, then answered the cell. “Karina Jones.”

  “Jasmine Cordova. I got your message. Logan’s situation sounds unique and delicate, but I’ll be glad to help him.”

  “Thank you.” She had briefly explained the boy’s situation, but there was so much more to tell her.

  “I’ll file an emergency guardianship request with the court, so I can take temporary custody.” The lawyer added, “You and your partner should become my clients too, so I can speak for you and protect our conversations with attorney-client privilege.”

  “Great idea.” Rox was embarrassed to admit their current status. “Right now, Logan isn’t with us. He had an emotional moment at a fertility clinic, then ran. We think he’s headed to the capitol building to confront his mother.”

  “She works in state government?”

  Rox braced herself. T
he revelation could be a deal breaker. “Jill Palmer.”

  “No!” The attorney was quiet for a moment. “I can be there in thirty minutes. If you find him before that, bring him to my office.”

  Relief washed over Rox. “Thank you again.” She hung up and looked at Marty, “She’s going to file for custody of Logan. She wants us as clients too, so she can’t be forced to reveal anything we tell her.”

  “Calling her was a good move. Now we just have to get Logan to her.”

  A few blocks later, the stately white building came into view. Long and rectangular, it featured a rotunda that rose up out of the middle and sported a twenty-foot gold statue of a man in pioneer clothes. A crowd of protestors, larger than the group she’d seen at the hospital, covered the statehouse lawn. But still, there were fewer than fifty people—and they were peaceful—so no police officers were in sight.

  A car pulled away from the curb. “Park there!” Rox shouted and pointed.

  “I’m on it.” Marty swerved over and blocked the space. The car behind them honked and went around, then her stepdad expertly backed into the open spot.

  They both sat, staring at the protestors and scanning the lawn. “I don’t see him,” Rox said.

  “We knew this wouldn’t be easy.” Marty pulled on a baseball cap and sunglasses. “We should at least try to hide our faces.”

  “I don’t have anything with me.” Rox almost didn’t care.

  “SiriKaren left a scarf in here the other night.” Marty leaned into the backseat and rummaged around his golf bags. “Here.” He handed Rox a silk scarf with a bright pattern of red, gold, and purple leaves.

  She couldn’t bear to look at it, let alone wrap the ugly thing around her head. “I’ll take my chances with just the sunglasses I’m wearing.” She climbed out and Marty followed. They hurried across the tightly manicured grass, and Rox tried to think like a scared and angry teenage boy. Would Logan hide for a while, trying to work up his courage? Or go straight into his mother’s office?

  She spotted a white hoodie near the front of the crowd. Was that Logan?

  Her burner phone beeped in her purse and Rox stopped. “I have a text from the hacker.”

  Marty waited, while Rox read the message: This is worth a bonus. Records say Jill Palmer gave birth twice, about two years apart. Logan, then Austin. Who knew?

  Chapter 37

  Logan stood near the front of the demonstrators, feeling safe with them for the moment. They were angry with his mother too—but strangely enough for wanting to close the hospital. If they only knew…

  They seemed liked good people though, and he hoped they would protect him if his mother or the police came after him. But he couldn’t stay here all day. The sky was dark and the wind was cold. That meant it would rain soon, and he had to find shelter. Maybe he should have stayed with Pops and his partner. They seemed to be the only people who could help him.

  No. He had to get this over with and confront Jill. He tapped the older woman next to him. “How long will you guys be out here?”

  “Until the governor shows up and takes questions.”

  Logan noticed a well-dressed woman with a microphone approaching the crowd from the side. A guy with a big camera trudged after her. “Is Jill scheduled for a press conference?”

  The woman laughed, but in a mean way. “If you want to call it that. We’re demanding that she come out, and her assistant said she would.”

  That surprised him. His mother hated noisy crowds. Maybe he should just run into the building now and get this over with. But he couldn’t make himself move. Jill was undoubtedly mad about the protestors and wouldn’t want to deal with him at the same time. She would just call the security guys to haul him away.

  Unless he challenged her right here in front of everyone. That should keep him safe. Jill might never speak to him again though. A bitter sound caught in his throat. Would he notice the difference?

  Logan chewed his lip and tried to make up his mind.

  Chapter 38

  Jill Palmer paced her office, sipping vodka and trying to make a decision. Should she call the police about Logan? She was torn. If he would just go away, her life would be simpler. But if he stayed around, he could make trouble for her in several ways. Especially if he showed up in public and made everyone wonder why they didn’t know about her older child. But Logan was antisocial and not likely to do that. Even worse, if he started to remember things, he might go to the police. As much as it repulsed her, she had to shut him down.

  Incompetent Roger had no idea where he was or how to find him, so the day before, she’d driven to the Canby house—which he thought of as home—but hadn’t seen any sign of him. She’d wanted Austin to go with her like always, but he’d refused. At thirteen, he was starting to be mouthy and uncooperative, but that was normal for his age. Unlike Logan, who’d been weird but sweet, Austin had been somewhat mean as a child. He seemed to be over that now. More important, he was bright and ambitious, so he was on track for the life of greatness she wanted for him. In fact, he would be out of prep school soon and headed to his private tutor.

  Austin wasn’t her problem at this moment though. The big issue was the damn demonstrators. They’d moved from protesting in front of Mt. Angel to the damn front lawn of the capitol building. They were out there right now with their stupid little signs and chants. As though they could affect policy for a fifty-million-dollar budget deficit. She didn’t have other options!

  Closing the hospital was imperative now. Roger had made such a mess of things up there, with his bad staffing decisions and the incident with that pretty young woman. What the hell had he been thinking—sexually assaulting a patient? She’d put up a fight, and the situation had gotten ugly. Roger swore her death was an accident, but Jill had her doubts. She wasn’t required to clean up after him, but she feared he would retaliate if she didn’t. The only thing keeping Roger from going public about her older son and her contrived effort to institutionalize him was her own knowledge of Mt. Angel’s misdeeds. Once the hospital closed and he moved to his new position, she lost her leverage. Mutual blackmail—complicated by a sexual affair—was a messy business.

  And there was still the body. She didn’t know where it was buried and wasn’t crazy enough to ever admit she’d known about it at all, no matter what Roger threatened.

  Her assistant knocked, calling her name.

  “What is it?” Jill stopped and yelled without opening the door.

  “The demonstrators say they won’t go home until you come out and speak to them. They want assurance.”

  Idiots! As though life offered anyone any assurance. Yet, she desperately wanted them to go away. If facing the crowd could make that happen, she would do it. “Fine! I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Jill took another slug of vodka, brushed her teeth, and checked herself in the mirror. Was she looking haggard? The stress of all the drama was wearing on her, and she felt herself slipping.

  She had to hang on at least long enough to explain to the protestors why their loved ones would be better off in community-based facilities. She had the argument down pat. Then she would back it up with a list of other services that would be cut if she didn’t make the hard choice of closing Mt. Angel.

  Dread nearly paralyzed her. Media people were probably out there too, looking for sound bites. Could she give them a thoughtful discourse and put an end to the whole debate? Journalists were constantly comparing her leadership to Blake’s, and she never measured up. She never had as a child either. How could she? Being a girl when her father had wanted a boy, because men could do important things and become important people. She’d wanted so badly, and tried so hard, to become an admired politician—to prove her sexist father wrong.

  It didn’t help that Blake had been so damn perfect, he was an impossible act to follow. Well, not quite perfect. He’d had one fatal weakness, and it had almost destroyed all of them. The memory of that day hit her so hard, she had to sit down. Jill tried t
o suppress the images, but the events started playing in her mind anyway.

  She parked her car behind Blake’s, noting the beautiful fall colors on the trees, and hurried into the Canby house. They were spending time with Shay and Logan that weekend, and Blake had driven out early after hearing she had to work late. She’d dropped Austin off with the sitter as usual. It was better that Logan didn’t know he’d been replaced with a better version of himself.

  Tension melted out of her body as she walked into the quiet retreat. It always felt good to be back here. But a moment later, she realized something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Where was everybody? Jill moved through the living room, noting Shay’s new painting, then entered the kitchen, expecting to see her sister cooking. The room was empty and still.

  Noises in the back of the house caught her attention. Jill hurried down the hall, hoping everything was all right. Especially with Logan. She loved him in her own strange way. The master bedroom door was ajar and she sensed movement inside. A queasy feeling landed in her gut, but she forced herself to walk forward and push the door open.

  Blake was on one side of the bed, hopping up and down as he tried to pull on his pants. Shay was on the other, yanking a blouse over bare breasts, her hair tousled.

  They’d been having sex! Shock, pain, and rage overwhelmed her. At first she couldn’t breathe or speak. Then she couldn’t stop. “You bastard! With my sister! Of all women! How could you?” Jill rushed toward him, wanting to hurt Blake as much as he’d hurt her. She balled her hands into fists and pounded his chest, crying and screaming.

  Off balance already, her husband staggered back and lost his footing. Blake called out her name as he fell in a slow arc toward the wall. Jill gasped, ashamed and terrified. The dull thud as he hit his head on the solid rock was a sound she would never forget.