The Lost Years

73

Richard did not leave her until midnight.

At three A.M. Mariah was woken from a dead sleep by the ringing of the phone on her night table. Oh God, something’s happened to Mom, she thought. She spilled her water glass as she grabbed the phone. “Hello!”

“Mariah, you have to help me.” The voice on the other end sounded frantic. “I have the parchment. I couldn’t sell it and betray Jonathan like that. I want you to have it. I promised it to Charles, but I changed my mind. He was in a rage when I told him. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me.”

It was Lillian Stewart.

Lillian is alive! And she has the parchment! “Where are you?” Mariah demanded.

“I’ve been hiding at the Raines Motel on Route 4 East just before the bridge.” Lillian broke into a sob. “Mariah, I beg you. Come and meet me now. Please. I want you to have the parchment. I was going to mail it to you, but suppose it got lost? I’m leaving for Singapore on the seven A.M. flight from Kennedy airport. I’m not coming back until I know Charles is in prison.”

“The Raines Motel on Route 4. I’ll be there right away. There won’t be any traffic. I can make it in twenty minutes.” Mariah pushed back the coverlet and in an instant her feet were on the carpet.

“I’m on the first floor in the rear area of the motel. It’s room twenty-two—the number’s on the door. Hurry! I’ve got to leave for Kennedy by four o’clock,” Lillian said.

At three thirty, Mariah turned off the highway and drove past the quiet, shabby motel into the dimly lit parking area outside room 22. She opened her car door and a second later felt her head being slammed against the side of it. Waves of intense pain enveloped her and she passed out.

Minutes later she opened her eyes to almost total darkness. She tried to move her hands and legs but they were tightly tied. There was a gag stuffed into her mouth. Her head was throbbing. From somewhere near her, she could hear a whimpering sound. Where am I? Where am I? she thought frantically.

She could feel the movement of wheels beneath her. I’m in the trunk of a car, she realized. She felt something brush against her. My God, there’s someone here with me. Then, straining to catch the words, she heard Lillian Stewart moaning, “He’s crazy. He’s crazy. I’m sorry, Mariah, I’m sorry.”