Promise Me

CHAPTER 55

The police took Myron’s statement. They asked questions. They told him nothing. Myron slept in the house in Livingston that night. Win stayed with him. Win rarely did that. They both woke up early. They watched SportsDesk on TV and ate cold cereal.

It felt normal and right and rather wonderful.

Win said, “I’ve been thinking about your relationship with Ms. Wilder.”

“Don’t.”

“No, no, I think I owe you an apology,” Win continued. “I may have misjudged her. Her looks do grow on you. I’m thinking that perhaps her derriere is of a finer quality than I originally thought.”

“Win?”

“What?”

“I don’t much care what you think.”

“Yes, my friend, you do.”

At eight in the morning Myron walked over to the Biel house. He figured that they were awake by now. He knocked gently on the door. Claire answered it. She wore a bathrobe. Her hair was disheveled. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

“Aimee is still sleeping,” Claire said. “Whatever drugs the kidnappers gave her, they really knocked her out.”

“Maybe you should take her to the hospital.”

“Our friend David Gold — do you know him? He’s a doctor. He came by last night and checked her out. He said she’d be fine once the drugs wear off.”

“What drugs did they give her?”

Claire shrugged. “Who knows?” They both stood there a moment. Claire took a deep breath and looked up and down the street. Then she said, “Myron?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to let the police handle it from here.”

He did not reply.

“I don’t want you to ask Aimee about what happened.”

There was just enough steel in her voice. Myron waited to see if she’d say more. She did. “Erik and I, we just want it to end. We hired an attorney last night.”

“Why?”

“We’re her parents. We know how to protect our daughter.”

The implication being: Myron didn’t. She hadn’t needed to mention again that first night, how Myron had dropped Aimee off and hadn’t looked out for her. But that was what she was saying here.

“I know how you are, Myron.”

“How am I?”

“You want answers.”

“You don’t?”

“I want my daughter to be happy and healthy. That’s more important than answers.”

“You don’t want whoever did this to pay?”

“It was probably Drew Van Dyne. And he’s dead. So what’s the point? We just want Aimee to be able to put this behind her. She’s going to college in a few months.”

“Everyone keeps talking about college like it’s a great big do-over card,” Myron said. “Like the first eighteen years of your life don’t count.”

“In a way, they don’t.”

“That’s crap, Claire. What about her baby?”

Claire moved back to the door. “With all due deference — and no matter what you want to think about our decisions — that’s not your concern.”

Myron nodded to himself. She had him on that one.

“Your part in this is over,” she said, and again he heard the steel. “Thank you for what you’ve done. I have to get back to my daughter now.”

And then Claire closed the door on him.