Counterfeit Son (3 page)

Then he stopped feeling sorry for them. Where had all the grown-ups been who should have helped him when Pop hurt him? He couldn't tell them—the teachers and coaches—but they must have seen the bruises even though he tried to hide them. The grown-ups should have known—they should have helped him. And what about the parents who should have kept their sons safe, and instead let Hank Miller take them? Cameron didn't owe adults anything. This was his chance, and he was going to take it.

Cameron closed his eyes again. The sheets were so smooth and comforting, tucked around him. He rolled over, away from the damp patch on his pillow.
It's okay to cry,
he told himself,
but you don't have to lie in it.

New voices woke him. Wary, he lay motionless again, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Neil?"

It was a woman's voice, tense, afraid, but hopeful, too. Cameron felt the world spin crazily around him, as though the bed rested on a giant Tilt-a-Whirl, like the ride at the school carnival. What had happened with the prints?

"Son?" This voice was cautious. It was the voice of a man who might ask questions and listen to the answers before administering punishment.

"I gave him a sedative," the doctor told them, "but it should have worn off by now. Come on, Neil, wake up."

Cameron felt a hand fall unexpectedly on his shoulder, and he jerked away, his eyes flying open.

The doctor stepped back, looking alarmed. Then he said, "I'm Dr. Oshida, Neil. Do you know who these people are?"

Cameron blinked his eyes, shivering. The sheet had fallen away, and he was wearing some twisted wraparound garment that barely covered him. He saw Investigator Colbert standing behind the doctor and pulled the sheet up. Then he looked at the two people standing beside the bed, and he caught his breath.

The woman had long golden hair swept back neatly into a knot at the nape of her neck. She had deep brown eyes, and she was trying to smile at him, although her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were wide and glittering with unshed tears. But the man—he had Cameron's own long nose, and his too-big ears. And he had the same hazel eyes. Cameron couldn't believe it.

"Dad?" he tried to say, and the word came out a croak.
Not "Pop,
"he thought,
not "Pop" ever again.

"Yes," the man said, blinking his eyes rapidly. "Neil—oh, Neil. We'd nearly—" He broke off abruptly.

Cameron turned to the woman. She was crying now, silently, tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to smile.

"Mom?"

"Baby—" And suddenly her arms were around him, enfolding him, smothering him. He went rigid with shock, his brain screaming at the memory of strong arms crushing him against another body. But this embrace was different—he shut his mind to the other vision and leaned against her, breathing the soft flower scent of her hair.

"When can we take him home, Dr. Oshida?" the man asked. "Tonight?"

"No," Dr. Oshida said firmly. "I need to complete some tests before we can release him, Mr. Lacey, and some of the labs aren't open over the weekend. You or your wife will be welcome to stay with him, of course, but I can't let him go home before sometime on Monday, at the earliest."

"I'll stay," the woman was saying. "I can stay through the rest of the weekend, and I'll call the museum and tell them I won't be in the first part of the week. Glenn can take over for a few days—he's always wanted the curator job, anyway."

Cameron wondered who would stay with Neil's brother and sister. Their father? Their mother didn't seem worried about them. He supposed she was just so relieved to get Neil back, she wasn't thinking about the kids who hadn't disappeared.

"What tests?" Mr. Lacey asked, his voice expressionless.

Dr. Oshida lowered his voice. "We've taken complete X rays, but we also need to run a CAT scan and a battery of psychological tests—"

"Oh, but—" The woman released Cameron and sat on the side of his bed, one arm around his shoulders. He felt confused and frightened. Could those tests prove that he wasn't Neil?

"No." The man's voice was flat.

"But, Mr. Lacey—" the doctor began.

Investigator Colbert spoke for the first time. "This is part of an official investigation, Mr. Lacey."

"I understand that. Dr. Oshida may run any tests the police and your task force require to check Neil's physical condition," the man said. "But his family will be the judge of what psychological examinations he needs."

The doctor and the investigator glanced at each other. Then Dr. Oshida said, "Mr. Lacey, I explained that this trauma may have caused amnesia and other psychological problems—"

"I understand," the man said. "I appreciate your concern, Dr. Oshida. But Neil is coming home with us as soon as the last physical tests are complete. We will arrange for private counseling as soon as he has settled in, and it will be with a therapist who is not answerable to the police. As long as Neil stays in the hospital, my wife or I will remain with him at all times, and if you attempt to order any unnecessary examinations or cause any delays, I will apply for a habeas corpus to immediately remove my son from this facility. Do we understand each other?"

Investigator Colbert nodded. "Perfectly."

Dr. Oshida said stiffly, "We will require the dental records to confirm your identification."

"Of course. We'll have the children's dentist fax them to you Monday morning. Feel free to give Neil a full dental examination before he leaves so you can be sure of the match."

Cameron wondered what had happened to the toeprints, whatever they were, but the man—his
father,
he reminded himself—was staring at him. "Personally, I'm already convinced," he told the doctor.

Dr. Oshida looked back and forth from him to the man. "Yes," he said, smiling gently. "I can understand why. It's too bad we couldn't have the maternity ward toeprints to make a positive identification immediately, but as he was born at home—"

"We explained that," the woman—
Mother
—said sharply. "I believe in natural childbirth unless there's something wrong. Neil's birth was perfect."

Dr. Oshida bowed his head. "You were very fortunate, Mrs. Lacey."

"Gentlemen," the man said, "could we have a few minutes alone with our son?"

"Of course," Dr. Oshida said, and he left the room with a polite smile. The investigator followed him, but Cameron saw that he left the door slightly ajar. He was listening from the hallway.

Investigator Colbert didn't believe him, after all. Probably Detective Simmons was there, too, waiting for him to make a mistake.

Cameron looked up at Neil's parents. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, confessing before the accusations could start.

"Neil—" his mother started.

"I'm sorry I went off," he said. "I shouldn't have gone to the video arcade. And I shouldn't have gone with him. I'm sorry."

His father moved quickly toward him, and Cameron barely prevented himself from shuddering when the man reached out and smoothed his hair, then hugged him roughly. But the touch was nothing like Pop's embrace, and Cameron felt his shoulders relax.

"Oh, Neil, we'd nearly given up," his father was saying, his voice muffled because his mouth was pressed against his hair. Cameron could feel the man's breath blowing jerkily down his neck, and it made him tense up again. "We were afraid you were gone forever," his father said hoarsely.

When he was released, Cameron looked up at them. Why weren't they reminding him how bad he'd been? They were glad to see him now, but punishment was sure to come later. He thought he could take it, but there were so many pitfalls—he still didn't understand exactly about those toeprints, and what about dental records? What would they show? And nobody had said anything yet about the brother and sister he'd read about in the articles—how would they take Neil's return? He was so tired, and the acting had only begun. He'd been good at acting like a normal kid at school, but he didn't have to act with Pop, just obey. Would he be able to sustain a role all the time?

The tears were still sliding down the woman's cheeks. His
mother,
he told himself again—he had to start thinking of her as his mother. He wondered what had happened to the mother he couldn't remember. Had she left because he was too bad, and the amnesia had wiped the memory out? Or maybe she had been bad herself and Pop had punished her, or even killed her. Was she buried with the boys?

Cameron had blanked out so much—deliberate blanks, so he wouldn't make a stupid mistake in school and say something he shouldn't, but also blanks that were an escape. When he was with Pop he'd blank out what was happening, and think of sailing instead. And afterward he'd blank out what Pop had done to him, except for the pain. He couldn't completely escape that, though the bottles of aspirin helped. But how could he have blanked out his mother?

He wondered what it would be like to have a mother now. Mrs. Lacey was still weeping silently, and Cameron wanted to tell her not to cry. What would Neil have said to his mother? Cameron searched his memory of the articles about Neil, the interviews with his parents. He had a sudden image of Neil's mother sitting in a sunlit room, holding a worn picture book about Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Cameron remembered the story Had Pop told it to him? Probably one of the boys had. There were three bears and a strange golden-haired girl who snuck into their house and took their things, but the little bear caught her in the end. Cameron thought he remembered a newspaper photograph of Mrs. Lacey, because he was sure the caption said that she was pleading for Baby Bear to come home to Mama Bear.

"Don't cry, Mama Bear," he whispered, hoping the words would comfort her.

The effect was electric. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. The tears disappeared. Cameron was terrified—why had he said that? Had Colbert and Simmons heard? Would they rush into the room and arrest him? How bad would the punishment be this time?

"Neil!" she cried, and threw her arms around him again. Over her shoulder, he saw the man—
Father
he reminded himself—staring at him in stunned delight.

"You remembered!" she was saying, rocking him in her arms. "You used to call me Mama Bear when you were a toddler and I'd get upset!"

Cameron closed his eyes and sagged against her in relief, letting her rock him. He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been to remember the picture in the clipping. Whatever the doctor's positive identification disclosed now, they would believe he was Neil.

Except, somehow, he hadn't expected the Laceys to be so nice. As the woman held him tightly, Cameron remembered Detective Simmons's accusations, and felt bitterly like Goldilocks, the interloper.

His mother stayed with him Saturday night, although he slept through most of it. Cameron woke in the night and saw her in the light from the hospital corridor. She sat propped awkwardly in an uncomfortable-looking hard chair, her head leaning back, her eyes closed. In her sleep she was still smiling. Both she and the man were beside him all day Sunday, through more testsandpokingandprodding. Theytalkedtohim, telling him about the house, and about his brother and sister. His mother stayed through the night again, still talking, crying sometimes, and sometimes just smiling at him.

On Monday morning his father came back, this time carrying a small blue nylon duffel bag. He got more X rays taken of his teeth, and Cameron worried about this after what they'd said about dental charts. But the Laceys didn't seem concerned. They'd made up their minds about him.

Finally, one of the army of nurses took him back to the room where the other boy still lay unconscious. She pushed him in a wheelchair, as though he were too helpless to walk for himself, but Cameron didn't argue. He was exhausted from keeping his balance on the tightrope. His mother walked beside the chair, holding his right hand and still talking. Her voice was getting a little hoarse, but he liked the throaty sound of it.

"Diana and Stevie just can't wait to see you," she was saying. She had said this so often that he couldn't help wondering whether it was actually true. Perhaps they weren't as glad to get a big brother back as their parents were to get a first son. Probably Stevie was ticked off, after being the only boy for so long.

Cameron had read about the smaller children. Stevie probably wouldn't remember Neil too clearly, since he'd just turned three when Neil had been abducted. But Diana had been almost seven—old enough to know Neil pretty well. In the pictures she'd looked sad, and in one newspaper interview she'd said how much she missed her brother and wanted him to come home.

"Stevie started cleaning up his room as soon as that Investigator Colbert called to say you were safe," his mother went on.

Cameron felt sick to his stomach. Apparently Neil was supposed to share a room with Stevie. If the younger boy had had the room to himself all these years, he would probably be mad at having to start sharing it again. Not the best way to make friends with the kid.

And Cameron was nervous about sleeping in the same room with somebody. He was used to sleeping alone, except when Pop was there. He could remember waking suddenly in the dark to the sound of Pop's breathing, and knowing what was about to happen. Could he ever sleep with another person breathing so close to him? Also, he dreamed a lot. He'd had plenty of practice in keeping his dreams quiet, but what if the kid noticed anyway? He wished he could ask for a room alone, but he guessed instinctively that Neil's parents wanted to pretend everything was just the way it had been before. If Neil had shared a room with Stevie six years ago, then he would have to share one now.

His father looked up as they came into the hospital room. "I've got you all checked out, Neil," he said, and picked up the blue nylon bag and tossed it gently at him, grinning broadly. "Don't want to go home in your designer gown, I guess."

Cameron smiled back and unzipped the bag. Inside he found new underwear, still in the plastic wrap, and white socks with the paper band still around them. There was a stiff new pair of jeans, and a new Dallas Cowboys T-shirt. He looked at it a moment before remembering they were a football team. Had Neil been a big football fan? Pop mostly watched wrestling, and so Cameron stared at the TV with him, but he didn't like it much.