Gone, but not forgotten

Chapter Twenty-six.

Betsy was finishing breakfast when the doorbell rang. A light rain had been falling -all morning and it was hard to see Nora Sloane through the streaked pane in the kitchen window. She was standing on the welcome mat holding in umbrella in one hand and a large shopping bag in the other.

Betsy carried her coffee cup to the front door.

Nora smiled when it opened.

"Can I come in?" Sloane asked.

"Sure," Betsy said, stepping aside. Sloane leaned her umbrella against the wall in the entryway and unbuttoned her raincoat. She was wearing tight-fitting jeans, a light blue work shirt and a dark blue sweater.

"Can we sit down?" Nora asked, gesturing toward the living room. Betsy was confused by this morning visit, but she sat down on the couch. Nora sat in an armchair across from her and took a gun out of the shopping bag.

The coffee cup slipped from Betsy's fingers and shattered when it struck the marble tabletop. A dark brown puddle formed around the shards.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," Sloane said calmly.

Betsy stared at the gun.

"Don't let this bother you," Sloane said. "I wouldn't hurt you. I like you. I'm just not certain how you'll react when I explain why I'm here, and I want to be certain you don't do anything foolish. You won't do anything rash, will you?"

"No."

"Good. Now, listen carefully to me. Martin Darius must not be freed. On Monday, before the hearing starts, you will ask to use judge Norwood's jury room to speak in private with your client. There's a door that opens into the corridor. When I knock on the door, you'll let me in."

"Then what?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Why should I do this for you?"

Nora reached into the shopping bag and pulled out Oliver. She handed the stuffed animal to Betsy.

"I have Kathy. She's a sweet child. She'll be fine, if you do what I tell you."

"How… how did you get Kathy? Rick didn't call me."

"Rick's dead." Betsy gaped at Nora, not certain she had heard her correctly. "He hurt you. Men are like that.

Martin is the worst example. Making us act like dogs, forcing us to fuck each other, mounting us as if we were inanimate objects, cartoon women, so he could live out his fantasies. But other men do the same thing in different ways. Like Rick. He used you, then discarded you."

"oh, God!" Betsy wept, stunned and only half believing what Sloane said.

"He's not dead."

"I did it for you, Betsy."

"No, Sloane. He didn't deserve this."

Sloane's features hardened. "They all deserve to die, Betsy. All of them."

"You're Samantha Reardon, aren't you?"

Reardon nodded.

"I don't understand. After what you went through, how could you kill those women?"

"That was hard, Betsy. I made certain they didn't suffer. I only marked them when they were anesthetized.

If there was another way, I would have chosen it."

Of course, Betsy thought, if Reardon kidnapped the women to frame Martin Darius, it would be easier to deal with them if they were unconscious. A nurse who assisted in surgery would know all about anesthetics like pentobarbital.

Reardon smiled warmly, reversed the gun and held it out to Betsy.

"Don't be afraid. I said I wouldn't hurt you. Take it.

I want you to see how much I trust you."

Betsy half-reached, then stopped.

"Go on," Reardon urged her. "Do as I say. I know you won't shoot me. I'm the only one who knows where Kathy is. If I was killed, no one would be able to find her.

She'd starve to death. That's a cruel and horrible way to die. I know. I almost died from starvation."

Betsy took the gun. It was cold to the touch and heavy. She had the power to kill Reardon, but she felt utterly helpless.

"if I do what you say, you'll give me Kathy unharmed?"

"Kathy is my insurance policy, just as I was Peter Lake's. Nancy Gordon told me all about the governor's pardon. I've learned so much from Martin Darius. I can't wait to thank him, in person."

Reardon sat (quietly for a while. She did not move.

Betsy tried to stay just as still, but it was impossible. She shifted on the couch. The seconds passed. Reardon looked as if she was having trouble framing her thoughts.

When she spoke, she looked into Betsy's eyes with an expression of deep concern and addressed Betsy the way a teacher addresses a prize pupil when she wants to make certain that the student understands a key point.

"You have to see Darius for what he is to understand what I'm doing. He is the Devil. Not just a bad person, but pure evil. Ordinary measures wouldn't have worked.

Who would believe me? I've been committed twice.

When I tried to tell people in Hunter's Point, no one would listen. Now I know why. I always suspected there were others working with Martin.

Nancy Gordon confirmed that. She told me all about the conspiracy to free Martin and blame Henry Waters. Only the Devil would have so much power. Think of it. The governor, the mayor, policemen. Only Gordon resisted. And she was the only woman."

Reardon watched Betsy intently. "I'll bet you'll be tempted to call the police as soon as I leave. You mustn't do that. They might catch me.

I'll never tell where Kathy is if I'm caught. You must be especially strong when the police tell you Rick is dead and Kathy has been kidnapped. Don't weaken and give me away."

Reardon smiled coldly.

"You must not put your faith in the police. You must not believe that they can break me. I can assure you that nothing the police can do to me compares to what Martin did, and Martin never broke me. Oh, he thought he did.

He thought I was submitting, but only my body submitted. My mind stayed strong and focused.

"At night I could hear the others whimpering. I never whimpered. I folded my hate inside me and kept it safe and warm. Then I waited. When they told me Waters was the one, I knew they were lying. I knew Martin had done something to them to make them lie. The Devil can do that-twist people, change them around like clay figures-but he didn't change me."

"Is Kathy warm?" Betsy asked. "She can get sick if she's in a damp place."

"Kathy is warm, Betsy. I'm not a monster like Darius I'm not inhuman or insensitive. I need Kathy to be safe. I don't want to harm her."

Betsy did not hate Reardon. Reardon was insane. It was Darius she hated.

Darius knew exactly what he was doing in Hunter's Point when he created Reardon by stripping her of her humanity. Betsy handed the gun to Reardon.

"Take it. I don't want it."

"Thank you, Betsy. I'm pleased to see you trust me as much as I trust you."

"What you're doing is wrong. Kathy is a baby. She never did anything to you."

"I know. I feel badly about taking her, but I couldn't think of any other way to force you to help me. You have such high principles. I was upset when you told me you were dropping Darius as a client. I counted on you to get me close to him. But I admired you for refusing to represent him. So many lawyers would have continued for the money. I helped you with your marital problems so you'd see how much I respect you."

Reardon stood up. "I've got to go. Please don't worry. Kathy's safe and warm. Do what I told you and she'll be back with you soon."

"Can you have Kathy call me? She'll be frightened.

It would help her if she heard my voice."

"I'm sure you're sincere, Betsy, but you might try to have my calls traced. I can't take that chance."

"Then give this to her," Betsy said, handing Oliver to Reardon. "It will make her feel safe."

Reardon took the stuffed animal. Tears streaked down Betsy's face.

"She's all I have. Please don't hurt her."

Reardon closed the door without answering. Betsy ran into the kitchen and watched her walk up the driveway, back straight, unwavering. At that moment, Betsy suddenly knew bow the husbands felt when they came home to find only notes that read "Gone, But Not Forgotten."

Betsy wandered back to the living room. It was still dark, though a sliver of light was starting to show on the fringe of the hills. Betsy slumped on the couch, exhausted by the effort it took to keep her emotions at bay, unable to think and in shock. She wanted to mourn Rick, but -all she could think about was Kathy. Until Kathy was safe, her heart would have no time to ache for Rick. autopsy photographs, she tried to block her memory of the picture Darius had painted of his dehumanized prisoners, but she could not stop herself from seeing Kathy, her little girl, frantic and defenseless, curled up in the dark, terrified of every sound.

Time passed in a blur. The rain stopped and the sky changed from dark to light without her noticing. The pool of cold coffee had spread between the fragments of the broken cup and across the top of the coffee table.

Betsy walked into the kitchen. There was a roll of paper towels over the sink. She tore some off the roll, found a small paper bag and grabbed a large sponge. Doing something helped. Moving helped.

Betsy picked up the pieces of the cup and put them in the paper bag. She sponged off the tabletop and used the paper towels to wipe it down. As she worked, she thought about help. The police were out. She could not control them. Betsy believed Samantha Reardon. If Reardon thought Betsy betrayed her, she would kill Kathy. If the police arrested her, she would never tell where she was holding Kathy.

Betsy put the wet towels into the bag, carried the bag into the kitchen and put it in the garbage. Finding Kathy was the only thing she cared about. Reggie Stewart was an expert at finding people and she could control him, because Reggie worked for her. More important, he was sensitive. He would put finding Kathy ahead of arresting Samantha Reardon. Betsy would have to act quickly. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered Rick's body and the police investigation started.

Reggie Stewart's flight from Hunter's Point landed in Portland after midnight, and Betsy's call aroused him from a sound sleep. He had wanted to go back to bed, but Betsy sounded so upset and cryptic on the phone, he was concerned. Stewart smiled when Betsy opened the door, but his smile faded as soon as he saw Betsy's face.

"What's UP, Chief?"

Betsy did not answer Stewart until they were seated in the living room.

She looked like she was barely under control.

"You were right. Samantha Reardon killed the people at the construction site."

"How do you know that?"

"She told me, this morning. She Betsy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her shoulders started to shake. She put a hand over her eyes.

Betsy did not want to cry. Stewart knelt next to her. He touched her, gently.

"What's happening, Betsy? Tell me. I'm your friend.

If I can help you, I will."

"She killed Rick," Betsy sobbed, collapsing into Reggie's arms.

Stewart held her close and let her cry.

"Have you told the police?"

"I can't, Reggie. She has Kathy hidden somewhere.

The police don't know Rick is dead. If they arrest Samantha, she won't tell where she has Kathy hidden and she'll starve to death. That's why I need you. You have to find Kathy."

"You don't want me, Betsy. You want the cops and the FBI. They're much better equipped to find Kathy than I am. They have computers, manpower "I believe Samantha when, she says Kathy will die if she learns I went to the police. Reardon has already murdered the four people at the site, Lisa Darius and Rick."

"How do you know Reardon so well?"

"The day after Darius hired me, a woman calling herself Nora Sloane phoned me. She said she wanted to meet me for lunch to discuss an article she was writing about women defense attorneys. She wanted to use my cases as the centerpiece. I was flattered. When Darius was arrested, she was already my friend. When she asked if she could tag -along while I worked up Martin's case, I agreed."

"Reardon?"

"Yes."

"Why did she kill Rick?"

"She said she killed Rick because he left me."

"If she killed Rick because he hurt you, why hurt you more by kidnapping Kathy?"

Betsy decided not to tell Stewart about Reardon's instructions. She trusted her investigator, but she was afraid Stewart would warn the police if he learned of Reardon's plan to get into the jury room with Darius.

"After I found out Martin killed the women in Hunter's Point, I told him I wouldn't represent him, and I told Reardon I was dropping Martin as a client. She was very upset. I think she wants to be able to control the case. With Kathy as a prisoner, she can force me to do things that will ensure Martin's conviction. If you don't find Kathy, I'll have to do what she says."

Stewart walked back and forth, thinking. Betsy wiped her eyes. Talking to someone helped.

"What do you know about Reardon?" Stewart asked.

"Have you seen her car? Has she mentioned anything about where she lives? When you met for lunch did she pay with a credit card?"

"I've been trying to think about those things, but I really don't know anything about her. I've never seen her drive, but I'm certain she has a car. She had to transport the bodies to the construction site, my house is out of the way and she's attended all of Darius's court appearances."

"what about where she's living? Has she mentioned a long ride to town, how beautiful the view is in the country? Do you have her phone number?"

"She's never talked much about herself, now that I think about it. We've always talked about me or Darius or the battered women cases and never about her. I don't think I ever asked her where she lives. The one time I asked for her phone number, she said she would call me, and I didn't press her. I do remember that she paid for the lunch with cash. I don't think I've ever seen a piece of i.d."

"Okay. Let's hit this from another angle. Darius chose an isolated farmhouse so no one would see him bringing the women there and to cut the chances that anyone would stumble onto the women while he was away.

Sloane doesn't have the problem of a wife and job, she could stay with the women most of the time, but she came to court when Darius had appearances and she met with you a number of times. I'm betting she's living in a rural area that's near enough to Portland so she can come to town, then get back, easily. The house probably has a basement so she can keep her prisoners out of sight.

She'd -also have to have electricity "I asked if she'd let Kathy phone me. She said she wouldn't because she was worried I might trace her calls.

She must have a phone," Betsy said.

"Good. That's the way to think. Utilities, a phone, garbage service. And she's a single woman. I have contacts at Portland General Electric and the phone company who can check to see if a Nora Sloane or Samantha Reardon started phone service or electricity around the time Reardon came to Portland. I've got a buddy at the Motor Vehicle Division who can run her names to see if we can get her address off a license application.

"She probably rented the house. I bet she set everything up the first time she was in Portland, so it would be ready when she moved back, but she probably didn't start the services until she came here the second time.

"I'll call Reardon's landlady in Hunter's Point and try to get the exact date she followed Oberhurst and the date she returned to Portland. Then I'll check real estate listings for rural houses with basements for rent in the TRICOUNTY area for the first time she was in Portland. I'll see how many were rented by a single woman "Why not purchased? It would be safer. She wouldn't have to worry about the owner coming to the house to collect the rent or check on its condition."

"Yeah. She'd think of that. But I had the impression she didn't have a lot of money. She was renting in Hunter's Point and she had a low-paying job. I'm guessing she's renting. I'll cross-check what we find about the utilities with the rentals."

"How long will that take?"

The look of excitement on Stewart's face faded.

"That's the problem with using me instead of the police, Betsy. It's going to take a while. We can hire people to do some of the work, like checking the real estate ads, then I can follow up, but this is all very time-consuming and we could miss her altogether. She may have said she was married and her husband was coming later.

She may have found a house in the city that suited her purposes. She may have rented one name and taken the phone and utilities another. Fake i.d. is pretty easy to come by.

"Even if I've doped this out correctly, it's a weekend. I don't know bow many of my contacts I can get through to and when they can get into their offices to do the work."

Betsy looked defeated. "We don't have a lot of time.

I don't know bow well she's taking care of Kathy or what Reardon will do to her, if she decides she doesn't need me.

"Maybe you should reconsider. The police and the FBI can be discreet."

"No," Betsy said emphatically. "She said Kathy would die if I told them.

There would be too many people involved. There's no way I could be certain she wouldn't learn about the investigation. Besides, in her twisted way, I think Reardon likes me. As long as she doesn't see me as an enemy, there's always the hope she won't harm Kathy."

The rest of the day was so bad, Betsy had no idea how she would get through a second one. It was hard to believe that only a few hours had passed since Samantha Reardon's visit. Betsy wandered into Kathy's room and sat on her bed. The Wizard of Oz lay on its side on Kathy's bookshelf They had four more chapters to read.

Was it possible that Kathy would never learn about Dorothy's safe return home? Betsy curled up on the bed, her cheek on Kathy's pillow, and hugged herself She could smell Kathy's freshness on the pillow, she remembered the softness of her skin. Kathy, who was so precious, so good, was now in a place as distant as Oz where Betsy could not protect her.

The house was chilly. Betsy had forgotten to turn on the heat.

Eventually the cold made her uncomfortable.

Betsy sat up. She felt old and wasted, chilled to the bone by the icy air, as if her blood had been drained from her, leaving her too weak to cope with the horror that had invaded her life.

The thermostat was in the hall. Betsy adjusted it and listened to the rumble of the furnace starting up. She drifted aimlessly from room to room. The silence overwhelmed her. It was rare for her to be completely alone.

Since Kathy's birth, she had always been surrounded by sound. Now she could hear every raindrop fall, the creak of timbers, water dripping in the kitchen sink.

So much silence, so many signs of loneliness.

Betsy saw the liquor cabinet, but rejected the idea of numbing herself She had to think, even if each thought was painful. Liquor was a trap.

There was going to be a lot of pain in her future and she had to get used to it.

Betsy brewed a cup of tea and turned on the television for company. She had no idea what show she was watching, but the sound of laughter and applause made her feel less alone. How was she going to get through the night, if getting through the day was so unbearable?

Betsy thought about calling her mother but rejected the idea. Rick's body would be discovered soon and Rita would learn that Kathy was missing. She decided to spare her mother suffering for as long as possible.

Stewart called at four to check on Betsy. He had talked to his contacts at the utility companies and the phone companies and had hired several investigators he trusted to scour the real estate ads for the relevant time period. Stewart insisted on coming by with Chinese takeout. Betsy knew he was doing it so she would not be alone. She was too tired to tell him not to come and she appreciated the company when he arrived.

Stewart left at six-thirty. An hour later, Betsy heard a car pull into her carport. She hurried to the door, hoping, irrationally, that her visitor was Samantha Reardon bringing Kathy home. A police car was parked in one side of the carport. A uniformed officer was driving. Ross Barrow got out of the passenger side. He looked troubled. Betsy's heart beat wildly, certain he was here to tell her about Rick's murder.

"Hello, Detective," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Can we step inside, Ms. Tannenbaum?" Barrow asked.

"Is this about Martin's case?"

Barrow sighed. He had been breaking the news of violent death to relatives for longer than he cared to remember. There was no easy way to do it.

"Why don't we go inside?"

Betsy led Barrow into the house. The other officer followed.

"This is Greg Saunders " Barrow said. Saunders nodded.

"Do you want some coffee?"

"Not right now, thank you. Can we sit down?"

Betsy walked into the living room. When they were seated, Barrow asked,

"Where were you last night and today?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I have an important reason for asking."

"I was home."

"You didn't go out? No one visited you?"

"No," Betsy answered, afraid to mention Reggie Stewart.

"You're married, aren't you?"

Betsy looked at Barrow for a moment, then looked down at her lap.

"my husband and I are separated. Kathy, our daughter, is staying with him for a few days. I've been taking advantage of the peace and quiet to sleep late, catch up on some reading. What's this all about?"

"Where are Mr. Tannenbaum and your daughter staying?" Barrow asked, ignoring her question.

"Rick just rented a new apartment. I have the address written down. But why are you asking?"

Betsy looked back and forth between Barrow and Saunders. Saunders would not meet her eye.

"Has something happened to Rick and Kathy?"

"Ms. Tannenbaum, this isn't easy for me. Especially since I know you.

The door to your husband's apartment was open. A neighbor found him."

"Found Rick? How? What are you talking about?"

Barrow looked Betsy over carefully.

"Do you want some brandy or something? Are you gonna be okay?"

"Oh, God, Betsy said, letting her head drop into her hands, so her face was covered.

"The neighbor has 'already identified Mr. Tannenbaum, so you'll be spared that."

"How did he…?"

"He was murdered. We need you to come to the apartment. There are some questions only you can answer. You don't have to worry, the body's been removed."

Betsy suddenly jerked upright. "Where's Kathy?"

"We don't know, Ms. Tannenbaum. That's why we need you to come with us."

Most of the lab technicians were gone by the time Betsy arrived at Rick's apartment. Two officers were smoking in the hall outside his door. Betsy heard them laughing when the elevator doors opened. They looked guilty when they saw her step out. One of them held his cigarette at his side as if he was trying to hide evidence.

The door to Rick's apartment opened into a narrow hall. At the end of the hall, the apartment fanned out into a large living room with high windows. The lights were on in the hall. Betsy saw the blood immediately. It had dried into a large brown stain. Rick had died there.

She looked up quickly and followed Barrow as he stepped over the spot.

"In here," he said, gesturing toward the guest room.

Betsy walked into the room. She saw Kathy's book bag.

Dirty jeans and a green, striped long-sleeve shirt lay crumpled on the floor in a corner. On the ride over, Betsy wondered if she could fake crying when the time came.

She Deed not have worried.

"They're Kathy's," she managed. "She was so proud, because she packed everything herself There was a commotion at the front door. Alan Page tore into the apartment and went directly to Betsy.

"I just heard. Are you okay?"

Betsy nodded. Gone was the self-confidence Page had seen in court. Betsy looked like she could break into a million pieces at any moment. He took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"We'll get your daughter back. I'm putting everything we've got into this. I'll call in the FBI. We'll find out who has her."

"Thank you, Alan," Betsy answered dully.

"Are you through with her, Ross?"

Barrow nodded.

Page led Betsy out of the room and into a small den.

He made Betsy sit down and he sat opposite her.

"Can I do anything for you, Betsy?"

Page was concerned by Betsy's pallor. Betsy took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She was used to thinking of Alan Page as a stone-hard adversary. Page's show of concern disarmed her.

"I'm sorry," Betsy said. "I just can't seem to focus."

"Don't apologize. You're not made of iron. Do you want to rest? We can talk about this later."

No. Go ahead."

"Okay. Has anyone contacted you about Kathy?"

Betsy shook her head. Page looked troubled. It didn't make sense. Rick Tannenbaum had probably been killed the day before. If the person who took Kathy was after ransom he'd have called Betsy by now.

"This wasn't a robbery, Betsy. Rick's wallet was full of money. He had on a valuable watch. Can you think of anyone with a reason to hurt Rick?"

Betsy shook her head. It was hard lying to Alan, but she had to do it.

"He had no enemies?" Page asked. "Personal, business, someone in his firm, someone he bested in court?"

"No one comes to mind. Rick didn't get into court.

He does contracts, mergers. I never heard him say anything about personal problems with anyone in his firm."

"I don't want to hurt you," Page said, "but Ross told me you and Rick were separated. What happened? Was he drinking, using drugs, was there another woman?"

"It was nothing like that, Alan. It was… He… he desperately wanted to be a partner at Donovan, Chastain and Mills and it looked like they weren't going to let him. And… and he was terribly jealous of my success. Tears welled up in Betsy's eyes. "Making partner meant so much to him. He couldn't see that I didn't care.

That I loved him."

Betsy could not go on. Her shoulders shook with each sob. It all sounded so stupid. To break up a marriage over something like that. To leave your wife and daughter for a name on a letterhead.

"I'll be sending you home with an officer," Page said quietly. "I want to set up a command post in your house.

Until we learn otherwise, we're treating Kathy's disappearance as a kidnapping. I want your permission to put a tap on your home and office phones, in case the person who has Kathy calls. We'll cut off any call from a client as soon as we know it's not the kidnapper. I'll have the office tapes erased."

"Okay."

"We haven't released Rick's identity yet and we aren't going to let the media know Kathy's missing until we have to, but we'll probably have to give out Rick's name in the morning. You're going to be hounded by the press."

"I understand."

"Do you want me to call someone to stay with you?

There was no longer a reason to keep Kathy's disappearance from Rita.

Betsy needed her more than ever.

"I'd like my mother to stay with me."

"Of course. I can have an officer drive her to your house."

"That won't be necessary. May I use the phone?"

Page nodded. "One other thing. I'll explain what happened to judge Norwood. He'll set over the Darius hearing."

Betsy's heart leaped. She had forgotten about the hearing. How would Reardon react, if it was set over?

Reardon was holding Kathy because of the hearing. The longer it was put off, the greater was the danger that Reardon would harm Kathy.

"I'm going to work, Alan. I'll go crazy if I just sit at home."

Page looked at her oddly. "You won't want to tackle anything as complex as Darius's case now. You'll be too distracted to do a competent job. I want Darius more than I've ever wanted anyone, but I'd never take advantage of a situation like this. Believe me, Betsy. We'll talk about his case after the funeral."

The funeral. Betsy hadn't even thought about a funeral. Her brother had taken care of her father's funeral.

What did you do? Whom did you contact?

Page saw how confused Betsy looked and took her hand. She had never noticed his eyes before. Everything else about the district attorney, from his lean build to the angles that made up his face, were so hard, but his eyes were soft blue.

"You look like you're about to fold up," Page said.

"I'm going to send you home. Try to get some sleep, even if you have to take something. You'll need all your strength. And don't give up hope.

You have my word. I'll do everything in my power to get back your little girl."