Tainted (29 page)

Farley left the house and Billy was alone with Holly. Who wasn't opening her eyes. Who wasn't speaking. Who was sitting shivering, completely non-responsive. He had to figure out a way to reach her. Before, when she'd screamed at Henry's, she'd been thinking of Katy; she'd been focused entirely on finding her, but Jack's message had tipped Holly over the edge. It was a “fight or flight” response to threat, he realized. Her first reaction had been to fight, but once Jack had confessed, she'd flown to some form of unconsciousness.

That statement of Jack's, the fact that he'd said, “I couldn't stand to see the look in your eyes if you found out”—she must have understood then that her whole life with him had been a lie of gigantic proportions. He wasn't confessing to an affair or a gambling problem. Or a stint in the Mafia. He'd admitted to killing two three-year-old girls and the grandfather who had been like a father to her.

Farley was right: she needed a blanket and something hot to drink. Billy went into the kitchen, found some instant coffee, put the kettle on. He went upstairs while it was boiling, went into Holly's bedroom, grabbed a crocheted blanket off the end of the bed. On his way back downstairs, he stopped outside Katy's bedroom. Then entered it, looked around, and found a stuffed animal on top of her toy chest in the corner. Grabbing it, he went back downstairs, wrapped the blanket around the still-comatose Holly, put the stuffed animal on the sofa beside her, before going into the kitchen and fixing her and himself mugs of strong black coffee.

The fog was beginning to roll in; Billy waited for the kettle to boil and stared at its mist, feeling a malevolent force in it, as if it were here to take hold and envelop Birch Point forever, as if it would never clear.

“OK, Holl.” He sat down beside her, took a quick swig of his coffee. “Here.” He blew on the top of her mug to cool it down, put it up to her lips. “You have to swallow a little of this.” Forcing the mug between her lips, he tilted it a tiny bit. She swallowed. “OK. We're getting somewhere.” She was still shivering, but not quite so much.

“Here.” He grabbed the stuffed dog, placed it in her lap, put her hands around it. “That's Katy's, Holly. Katy's stuffed dog. I don't know what she calls it. But I guess it reminds her of Bones. Does Katy love Bones? See, I don't know. Katy might not like dogs. Maybe she doesn't play with this one.” He made her swallow another sip of coffee. “When's Katy's birthday? I should know, but I don't. Does Katy like birthday parties?”

Say it enough times. Say Katy's name enough times and Holly might respond.

He leaned forward, spoke directly into her ear. “Katy needs you, Holl. Katy. Katy needs you. Katy.”

“Katy.” It was soft, but he heard it, drew back, took hold of her shoulders, gave them a small shake.

“Yes, Holl. Katy.”

“Oh, my God.” Her eyes flew open. “Oh, my God. I don't know what—” She looked around the room, her eyes searching every corner. “What happened? Billy, where's Katy? Have they found her? Where was I? What happened?”

“You shut down for a while. You short-circuited. After you heard Jack's message.”

“No. Oh, God.” When she closed her eyes, Billy thought she'd gone back, was going to blank out again. But she opened them. “I killed Henry. Jack killed Henry because of me.”

“No, Holly. You're wrong. Jack killed Henry because he was trying to save himself. We need to find out where he's gone. Where he's taken Katy. We have to think, Holly. You have to start thinking now. Have some coffee—it's right there on the table. Take another whack of coffee and think, OK?”

She reached out for the mug.

“Where is the cop?”

“He's gone back to Henry's. He's put an APB out on your car.”

“I have to go. I have to go look for her.” She started to stand up, but he pulled her down gently.

“No. Farley said that's a bad idea and he's right. They're looking for the car, they're the professionals. And Farley said Jack might call again—you should be here if he does. You have to try to think where he might have gone. You might remember something he said. Tell me again everything he said before he left.”

“He said . . . wait a second.” She took a big gulp of coffee, put the mug down, pulled the blanket tighter around her. “I'm sorry. I'm so cold. I can't stop shivering. He said he was her traveling companion. That means he won't hurt her, doesn't it? Doesn't it, Billy?”

“Probably, yeah.” He didn't want to send her over the edge again. “But we have to find them.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath.

“So what did he say this morning?”

“He said he had good news, that we didn't have to leave Shoreham, that—”

“Wait. I thought that was the whole point of yesterday—didn't he decide yesterday that you didn't have to leave?”

“No, he just said that to make everyone think we weren't going. He didn't trust you. Last night he was all excited about going.”

“Going where?”

“Oregon. He talked about finding a fishing village on the coast of Oregon. At first he said Indiana, but he switched to Oregon.”

“Jesus. Oregon.”

“He likes horizons, the sea.”

“So why Indiana?”

“I don't know.” She shook her head. “But then he switched, like I said. To Oregon.”

“Some fishing village? What's that all about?”

“He likes fishing, being out in the boat. I told you—he likes the ocean, the endless horizons. He said . . . he said on our honeymoon that he wouldn't mind dying, that he'd be happy to die, if he could see an endless horizon.”

“There are places everywhere where you can see an endless horizon. Give me your phone, I'll tell Farley about Oregon.” She handed it to him and he dialed Farley's number. “It's Billy Madison. Any news? . . . OK—Holly—yeah, she's talking now—she said he might be headed for Oregon. . . . No—no specific place in Oregon—somewhere on the coast.”

Lame. This sounds so lame. Some coastal town in Oregon, for fuck's sake. Shit. But how would he get there—in Holly's car or some other way? And wouldn't he think twice about going there after he'd told Holly that's where he wanted to go? Dane's not dumb.

Think. I have to think.

“Right, call me the second you know something. Right. Thanks.”

“OK.” Billy stood up, began to pace. “There's no news yet. Let's come at this in a different way. What does he like?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what does he enjoy doing, besides fishing?”

“He likes the Lobster Pot. Mini golf.”

“I doubt he's going to show up at the Lobster Pot with Katy and order fried clams. Or be putting his way around the Windmill.”

“I'm sorry, Billy.” He saw tears in her eyes. “It's all my fault. This is all my fault. I believed him. I trusted him. With Katy. I trusted him with Katy. How could I have?”

“This is
not
your fault, Holl. Stop it. If we're going there, I can say it's all my fault for leaving you two in the first place. We don't have time for this, OK?”

She nodded, wiped away the tears.

“Why?” Billy stopped pacing. “Why was he talking about dying on your honeymoon? That's bizarre.”

“I don't know. I don't know why. We'd had that fight that afternoon. Just after the ceremony. You know. You saw us when we came in.”

“What was the fight about?”

“We'd been out in the Sunfish. He wanted to go to the Bad Boy's Island, land there. I said I thought it was bad luck; you know, that old story about the Bad Boy. He hated that whole thing, that whole story. He said I was stupid and cruel for believing in it, being superstitious.”

“OK. And then, later, he's talking about dying. I don't get it. That doesn't link up. Forget that, anyway. Let's go back to what he said this morning. He said you could stay here. Then what?”

“He was talking about Katy. How he was worried about her being a teenager and hanging out at the mall. He said children are innocent and then they get tainted by life. I don't know. It was strange but it wasn't. I mean, I know how much he loves Katy. He didn't want her to get tainted. Wear too much make-up or get a tattoo or whatever. It was like he didn't want . . .”

“He didn't want what? Tell me.”

“He didn't want her to grow up.”

The way they were looking at each other was the way they'd looked when they'd heard Bones whimper.

Her cellphone rang. He saw it was Farley's number, answered it.

“Yes? . . . Right. OK. I guess that makes sense. Good. OK—I'll tell her.” He pressed “End Call.” “They've found your car parked at the Mill Pond Diner. So it looks like they've taken a bus. Farley says it should be easy to track them from there. He must have taken Katy to Boston. En route to wherever, I guess. But they'll be easy to track.”

“Thank God.” She began to cry again but different, relieved tears. “Thank God. I should have thought of that—it's where we first met, on the bus.”

“Right.”

But this feels all wrong. He's not that dumb. Jack's not that dumb. He'd know how easy it would be to find them.

He walked over to the window, stared out into the trees.

“Billy?”

“He's smart. He's too smart to get on a bus.”

He doesn't want her to grow up. Maybe he didn't want those other little girls to grow up. Think. Put yourself in his shoes. Try. You park the car at the Mill Pond but you don't get on a bus. So what do you do? Where do you go?

“Billy? What's going on? You said that's where the car is. And that's where the bus stops.”

No car. No bus. No train anywhere near—the freight trains don't come often enough to think of hopping on one and even if you wanted to, you have Katy to deal with. Harder. You can't stand by a train track with her, waiting for a train that might not come for an hour. You could steal a car. That's possible. That makes sense. But are you thinking of running away with her—or something else? Taking her into a forest? Too long a hike back to the woods here. You and your fucking endless horizons . . .

“Billy?” She was standing beside him now.

“You have a local phone book, right?”

“Yes.” She was puzzled, scared.

“Can you get it for me?”

“Yes. But—”

“Please, Holly.”

She went over to a table in the corner, opened a drawer, brought the phone book to him, handed it to him, searching his face for a clue. He opened it, thumbed through it until he found the number. Flipped the cellphone on and dialed.

“Hello, this is Lieutenant Galloway. I need to know if Henry Barrett's boat is still in the dock or whether it's been taken out. Could you check that for me, please?”

He waited. Holly was staring at him, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

“Right. Thank you.” He ended the call. “The boat's gone. Jack's taken Henry's boat. He must have parked at the Mill Pond, walked back to the marina, taken the boat.”

“The boat?”

“Like you said, endless horizons.”

“I don't understand.”

“He's happy to die if he can see an endless horizon. He doesn't want Katy to grow up. He knows we've found Henry. He's feeling cornered, trapped. It adds up to bad, however you play it out. I'm calling Farley.”

“Wait a minute.”

He could see she was thinking, remembering something.

“We can't wait, Holly.”

“Oh, my God, the wolf story.”

“What?”

“The wolf who curled up to die beside his partner who'd been trapped. The wolf story. He told me on the honeymoon. I thought he was talking about us, about the kind of love we had. The kind of love where you'd give up your life for the other person. But it's not about me and him. It's about Katy and him. He's trapped and he wants Katy to . . . he wants her to . . .”

“I'm calling—”

“No. Wait.” She straightened; something significant had shifted, he could tell. For the first time he saw in her a strong resemblance to Henry. “I can talk him out of it. He's gone to the Bad Boy's Island—I know he has. I understand now—I see it. You're right. But if the police get there first, he'll kill her. If I go there, I can talk him out of it. Please, Billy. We've got to get out of here—you still have a boat, don't you?”

“Yes. But look at the weather. The fog's coming in fast. It will be imposs—”

“I can find it. I know it. I could find it blindfolded. It's her only chance, Billy. I understand now. Of course that's where he's gone. He's taken her there. I can feel it. And if the police find him first . . . Listen to me—I know I didn't listen to you before and I was wrong. But I'm right now, I swear I am. I have to save her. I can do it. Believe me. I can do it. I have to.”

“I don't know. He could be anywhere out on the water. He could be headed to Martha's Vineyard for all we know. A police boat could—”

“He's on the Bad Boy's Island. I know he is. I remember now—the way he said, ‘Goodbye.' It was final, Billy. I didn't get it then, but I do now. He admitted he killed Henry—he knows he won't get a second chance if he's found—he knows it's over. We have to go find them, now. I'm the only one who can talk him out of it. He said he loves me, remember? He'll listen to me. But if he sees the police . . . You know what he'd do, Billy. You know I'm right.”

“OK. All right. We'll go to my house, get the car and go to my boat. But this man is dangerous, Holly, we have to—”

“I'll be right back. Wait here. I'll be right back and then we'll go. Promise me you won't call Farley.”

He looked at her. Back in fight mode. Determined and focused. More determined, more focused than Farley or Galloway could be, he knew. She was right: one look at a policeman and Jack would feel even more cornered. She was the only person who could possibly stop him.