Chapter 2

“I see.” I pursed my mouth sagely. Now I knew why she was here rather than asking the advice of several ex-students I could think of who were married and had large, possibly even happy, families.

“Mrs. Catlett, did this announcement of Zoe’s result in the end of the world for the Catlett family?”

“Oh, no. Perhaps it registered a weak three on the Richter scale. Reed reminded Zoe that being gay had some built-in problems, at least in some areas of the country, and with some people in any area, but if that was her decision, well, it was her life. Rob just said he thought it was ‘cool’ and laughed and said he wished he’d thought of it first. Now that caused Reed to raise his eyebrows, but Rob is always kidding around. Marvin came to attention, barked ‘Semper Fi’ in his squeaky voice and said if anybody gave her grief, just to let him know.”

I reached for a cigarette. What the hell? I was well out of fourth grade. And this was only the second of the five I allow myself each day. I chastise myself firmly for all the others.

“Mrs. Catlett—” I began.

“Please,” she interrupted, “call me Marie. Mrs. Catlett makes me feel we should be back struggling with long division. And we did struggle, didn’t we? And if I might ask one more favor, could I please have one of your cigarettes?”

“Certainly.” I pushed the pack and lighter across the table, more firmly convinced than ever that the whole world had quit smoking cigarettes until they were within reach of mine.

“Marie, you’ve covered everyone but sweet Merrilou. Tell me, what was her reaction?”

“Oh, a really wonderful scene. Loud screams, followed by desperate calls upon God and Jesus, falling to her knees in front of Zoe, grasping her hands, begging her not to go to hell, demanding to know who had led her down this sinful path and a rather embarrassing emphasis on learning exactly how far they had gone physically. Oh, and she demanded that Reverend Bartles be summoned at once for prayer and counseling.” Marie was fighting off a smile.

I had no desire to smile. “Is Larry Bartles now in the middle of this, telling Zoe he can ‘cure’ her of her sin and help her lead a ‘normal’ life?”

Marie looked surprised. “Not at all. When Merrilou called him, she sounded so hysterical and incoherent, he did come right over. He and his wife. And when he arrived and figured out what Merrilou was hiccupping about, he asked Zoe if she actually knew what she was getting into. Zoe said she did. He asked if she had been coerced in any way, or led on by some older person. Zoe said no, and Bartles just said this was a situation for the family to work through. If Zoe—or any of them—needed professional counseling, he could recommend several good people in the area. If any of the family wanted—and he accented wanted—to speak with him, he would try to be of service. He would pray for Jesus to help them through their troubles.”

Marie puffed on her cigarette and tapped the ashes. “Then he took his wife Emily’s arm and led her out, although I could tell she wanted to stay, probably in hopes of learning who the other young woman is.”

I could hardly believe what I’d heard. A year ago, Bartles would have been calling for the whole town to hold a prayer meeting on Zoe’s behalf. Maybe some of our heated conversations had led Larry to think a little deeper.

I sighed. “That’s a relief.”

“Perhaps,” Marie admitted. “But we may yet need the offices of the good reverend. It pains me to say this, and I hope you will keep it in confidence, but Reed’s is not a happy household. He doesn’t seem to see it. But I think it’s obvious to anyone else who spends time there.”

“What do you mean?” If Zoe’s announcement and a new wife weren’t enough problems for the Catletts, what was?

And why ask me about it? I obviously had no children, had never been married to a man. My brother Sonny and I had lost our father when I was just twelve and Sonny fourteen . . . and in a horribly bizarre fashion. Provincetown was scheduled to be brushed by a Category 3 hurricane, and if we were truly only “brushed,” I never want to be hit head-on by one. Our father stayed at work and did everything he could to board up and batten down the supermarket where he was manager, arriving home late and slightly drunk.

He was in a foul mood and had obviously stopped for a few belts somewhere along the way. By the time he got home, the power had failed, and the dark, chilly house and cold supper did nothing to improve his humor, and he retired to the living room with the battery radio and a bottle of Scotch. The other three of us huddled in the kitchen through a long, sleepless and terrifying night, wanting to hide from the rain beating against the house like machine gun bullets, shivering at drafts moaning through cracks we hadn’t known the house even had, cringing from unidentifiable thuds and crashes outdoors and finally ready to scream back at a shrieking wind that never shut up.

The next morning Dad awoke cold, tired and hung-over, with rain still coming down and the power still out. The sight of our neighbor’s tree partially blocking our driveway was the final blow for him. Despite warning after warning on the radio to be careful of live wires, he grabbed the chainsaw from the utility room and flung himself out of the house to clear a path for his car, so he could go to work. Thirty seconds later, we were a family of three.

I think in one way none of us ever forgave him his stupidity. In another, I think we were all quietly relieved that he, his borderline alcoholism, his rotten moods and bitter sarcasm were gone. Mom had to go back to work. Career plans changed for Sonny and me. It was not easy. Only in the last eight or so years had our finances become really stable. But we were happier.

Anyway, I hardly felt this idyllic family history qualified me to help turn Marie Catlett’s extended family into an ongoing Leave It to Beaver episode. I wondered what she expected of me.

“Reed loved his first wife and his children deeply, but he didn’t show affection easily,” Marie explained. “Frances, his wife then, was the nurturer. Occasionally she would book them all on an interesting, unusual vacation and simply tell Reed he was going, too. He would argue that he had important work to do, but usually he would finally agree, and everyone would more often than not have a great time. Then he’d go back into his shell. Frances was the one who comforted them all, from a skinned knee to a difficult client.”

Another of my cigarettes snaked its casual way to Marie’s fingers, and she went on. And on.

“When Frances died, Reed was absolutely lost. He simply disappeared into his office and was practically mute. I came up and stayed for a while, but obviously something permanent had to be done. Mrs. Hengel, a middle-aged widow, motherly and kind, had served as babysitter since Rob was born. I convinced her to rent out her house and move into Reed’s third floor, to act as housekeeper and surrogate mother. Of course, she wasn’t Frances, but she loved the kids and they were very fond of her. They seemed to be coming through their grief in fairly good shape.”

She tapped her fingers on the table in obvious irritation.

“Then Merrilou arrived, announced that she could manage the house quite well with the day help and that the children didn’t need a nanny, now that they were older and had a new Mother, that’s with a capital M. So for the second time, the kids lost a caregiver.”

I gave a short laugh. “I thought one mother was standard issue. You might be lucky enough to get a stepmother you learn to care for, but you don’t get a new mother. I doubt anyone would ever replace mine.”

“Quite right,” Marie nodded sharply, as she used to do if I had answered a tricky geography question correctly. “Anyway, let me finally make my point here. Zoe wrote me a few weeks back, asking to come and live with Barbara and me. Barb is my dear friend, another retired teacher. We share a home down in Madison, Connecticut.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure if I did or not.

Marie grinned. “Some discoveries come a bit late in life.”

Now I saw and returned her grin. “So is Zoe going home with you? Do you think that will work?”

“That was the plan.” Now, strangely, I thought I saw tears in Marie’s eyes. “We had discussed things that could and could not be done and agreed to give it a try until the end of the year. At that time, we’d reevaluate and see if all three of us wanted to continue the arrangement.”

“Sounds sensible.”

“It’s immaterial.” Marie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “At breakfast this morning, the maid came into the dining room with the news that Zoe’s bed had not been slept in. She had gone out to meet some friends after dinner last night, and no one in the house has seen or spoken with her since.”

“Did you call the police right away?”

“No, we did not.” Suddenly Marie sounded very weary. “This has happened before—Zoe staying away overnight—not often, but two or three times. Reed thought she may have gone to a friend’s house, lost track of the time, maybe had some alcohol, and decided it was better not to come home until today.”

“Well, Marie, that’s worrisome, but it happens all the time with kids. Have you called her friends?”

“No. Merrilou said it would be too humiliating, and frankly, we’re not sure whom to call.”

“Humiliating. Who cares?” I asked angrily. “The kid could be somewhere sick or hurt. She could have started home last night and, for some reason, never made it. Did you call the clinic? She could be in there with no ID.”

“Yes, I insisted on calling them. She’s not there. Nor had anyone of her description been in their outpatient care. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. At about that point the phone rang. Merrilou answered it. She said later the voice sounded like a teenage male, and he said, ‘We have your daughter, and it will cost you one million dollars to get her back.’”

“My God.” I slammed my cup into the saucer and stood up to go to the kitchen phone. “I’m so sorry! No wonder you need someone to talk to, Marie. But we can’t afford to waste time. The early moments are very important in a kidnapping. I’ll call Sonny and see if they know anything more. Have they got a tap on the phone yet? Or do you know? Surely they’ve got the police there by now.”

Sonny, by the way, is my older brother and a detective lieutenant in the Provincetown Police Department. He is very good at what he does.

Marie stood up as I did. “Alex, the police know nothing. As I told you, they have not been consulted.”

“You mean you still haven’t called them? What does it take to convince your family Zoe is in trouble? Do they think if they ignore this, the kidnappers will get bored and send Zoe home in a cab eating an ice cream cone? She must really feel hopeless and abandoned. Kidnapped by a set of criminals and blessed with a family of lunatics. I’m calling my brother.”

“Don’t call the police!” Marie made a strong negative movement with her hands. “Reed and Merrilou definitely don’t want them in it. Zoe and Reed have been arguing over some decisions about college, and Merrilou has convinced Reed it is a joke of some sort, or a trick on Zoe’s part to get money out of Reed to spend on the college she wants, and perhaps run away with this so-called girlfriend. We don’t even know who she is.”

“Why would Merrilou think it’s a joke or a hoax?”

“As I said, she thought the voice sounded young, maybe a teenage boy. Second, she thinks she heard a girl or woman, laughing in the background.”

“That hardly constitutes a hoax. The laughter could have been on a TV in another room, or someone laughing nervously or drinking or on drugs. A dozen reasons. And the man who called could simply have had a young sounding voice or be a young man. So what? What did Merrilou say? Did she ask to speak to Zoe to see if someone really has her and she is all right?”

Marie grunted.

“No. Merrilou said, ‘I’m looking all over my dining room and I don’t see any million dollars lying around to give to the sorry likes of you. If you’ve got her, I guess you get to keep her.’ And then she hung up.”