The Piper (28 page)

Hugh headed for the car. ‘Not the hotel. Drop us off at Naples, and we'll get a cab back. Stop shaking your head at me, Olivia, it's past time you had something to eat.'

Olivia stood on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Even from outside she could smell olive oil and garlic. She folded her arms. ‘I told you, Hugh, I don't want to eat here. Why can't we just get something at the hotel?'

‘Come on, Olivia. This is a good place for us. Put it down to nostalgia.'

But Olivia was crying. ‘I can't go in there. It's the last place I took Teddy, before—'

‘Even better,' Hugh said, guiding her inside. ‘I want you to tell me about the last night you spent with Teddy. What she ate and the little things you talked about, and I want you to picture her happy and safe and home again.'

‘I can't do this.'

‘Yes, you can. I know you can.'

They sat across from one another in a red upholstered booth along the side of the restaurant, one down from the table where they'd had their first date. The waiter who had waited on Olivia and Teddy just a few nights before took their order – Veal Marcela for Hugh, lasagna for Olivia, and a half carafe of the house Chianti wine. Olivia waited for the waiter to ask about Teddy, to notice she wasn't there, but he didn't. She would not have known what to say if he had.

The bread was warm and soft in the middle and Hugh buttered a slice and handed it to Olivia, and topped off her glass of wine. She noticed he only had a half glass he ignored, and said no to the waiter when he tried to fill it up.

‘This is a lucky place for us, Olivia. You came here every birthday when you were a kid, it's where we had our first date. This was the first place you brought Teddy when you got to town. What did she talk about that night? Did – does she like her new school?'

‘She's got a crush on her teacher. She's made a couple of friends and there's some kind of lizard in the class.'

‘A gecko. She told me when she called.' Hugh pointed to a booth across the room. A bigger one, that seated four instead of two. ‘See that booth over there?'

‘Yes, Hugh, I see it.'

‘I want you to see what I see.'

‘Hugh, what—'

‘Go with me on this. Because I see you on the left side and me on the right. And Teddy is sitting beside you bouncing up and down because we just took her to the bookstore and let her buy every single book that caught her eye, and there are eighty-seven thousand, three hundred ninety-seven books in the trunk of the car.'

Olivia tried not to smile. ‘Eighty-seven thousand.'

‘Eighty-seven thousand three hundred ninety-seven. And we had the devil of a time fitting them in. A lot of them are hard covers, so it was one hell of a bill. And let me tell you another reason that Teddy is smiling. She's got her daddy back.'

‘Hugh, for God's sake.'

‘Please, just listen. I want to come home, to you and to Teddy. We'll live anywhere you say. Right here in Knoxville, just not in that fucking haunted house.'

‘No argument there.'

‘We can find one of those godawful bungalows you love so much, or some house so old and decrepit that you can't resist falling in love. And we'll nurture it, and love it, and take our time fixing it up, because we'll be broke anyway after buying eighty-seven thousand, three hundred ninety-seven books. But we'll all stay together and never move again no matter what, and I'll go into business for myself or flip burgers at McDonald's, or be your assistant while you build your financial empire.'

‘That might be nice. My current assistant is a bitch.'

Hugh smiled at her, that old smile he gave whenever she'd made him laugh. He took her hand across the table and leaned very close. ‘I'm going to find Teddy and bring her back home. That's what daddies do. And I'm hoping that when I do that, you'll let me come home too. And that we'll stay together, no matter how hard things get, no matter how mad we get, because that's just the way life goes, and families stay together no matter what.'

‘You bring my little girl home safe, Hugh, and I'll be yours for life.'

T
here was a very bad moment in the lobby of the hotel when Olivia saw Teddy disappearing around the corner into the hotel gift shop. She had called out, and started to run, held back by Hugh's firm grip round her shoulders. He had shaken his head but not argued, led her gently into the gift shop, so she could see and know for sure that the little girl was not Teddy. Olivia had tried to tell the girl's parents to be careful, that their child was not safe, but he had hushed her and pulled her away, throwing an apology over one shoulder as he forced Olivia to the elevators.

‘I'm sorry,' Olivia said, as they stood outside her hotel room. She fished her card key out of her purse, touching Teddy's school papers.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for,' Hugh said.

Olivia looked up, expecting him to come in, to tell her that neither one of them should be alone at night, but he kissed her gently on the cheek and turned away.

‘If you need me, or you hear anything,' he said, ‘I'll be right down the hall.'

Olivia shut the door in his face and put the chain lock on. She kicked her shoes off and pulled the spread off the bed, propping herself on the pillow and wondering if her mind would ever be still enough for sleep. She attached her cell phone to the charger and set it on the bedside table. There was a ballpoint pen and notepad with the hotel logo. She turned the lamp on and closed her eyes a moment, thinking to make a list of new places to search. She fell asleep with the pen in her hand.

The light hurt her eyes almost immediately, which was strange since she only had the lamp switched on, and it was a three-way, with the setting on low. And it wasn't really lamplight, it was more like the sun, shining so hard her eyes watered, and she had to squint. The front door to the stone cottage was unlocked, which was lucky, and she went inside, only this time it was like it used to be when she was a little girl and she didn't feel afraid. The old upright piano was still there and the living room was just like it had been when she was growing up. She was drawn immediately to the woman who sat with her back to the door on the old, nubby green couch.

‘
Mama?
' Olivia said. ‘But you're dead, how can you be here?'

‘I thought you needed to see me, hon.'

Her mother smiled and Olivia thought how pretty she looked. She had on that chocolate linen dress that Olivia remembered. Olivia had loved that dress, her mother always wore it when she went somewhere special.

Her mother held out a hand. ‘I'm sorry, honey. You've had such a hard time.'

Olivia settled at her mother's feet and let the tears come, sobbing hard in her mother's lap. Her mother stroked the top of her head and let her cry it out.

And when she was done, Olivia sat up on her knees, and looked at her mother, content just to see her face.

‘You have to go now, Olivia.'

‘I don't want to go.'

‘It's time.'

‘Why can't I just stay here, Mama?'

‘Because you gave Hugh the key to the house.'

O
livia was running down the hotel corridor when the call came through. It was Hugh's number that flashed up on the screen.

‘Olivia? Darling?'

There was static on the line and in the background, the barking of a dog.

‘Oh, God, Hugh, tell me you're not in that house.'

‘Yes, but I'm leaving right now, heading down the stairs as we speak.'

‘But—'

‘You were right, you know. There is something here. It whispers at you, over your shoulder. It's . . . vile.'

‘Don't
talk
to it, Hugh.'

‘Talk to it? I tricked it, Olivia. We're all going to be safe, we're all going to be okay. I know how to get Teddy back. Oh God, poor little baby. It's a horrible thing, this—'

‘Hugh. Get out of there, get out of the house.'

‘Darlin', I'm on my way. I'm going to get our baby right now. She's alive, Olivia.
She's alive
.'

He sounded so happy, Olivia thought, he was laughing, damn him.

‘Where is she, Hugh? If you know, tell me now.'

‘It's not something I can
tell
, Olivia. It's hard to explain. But I'll get to her, I can do this, I swear.'

‘Hugh, what's that noise?'

‘It's the attic fan. Shit.'

The phone showed
connection lost
.

Olivia called 911 first, reported intruders without shame, and gave her name. The dispatcher wanted her to stay on the line but she refused, and rang McTavish instead. He didn't pick up. It was a bad time not to have a car.

W
hen Olivia made it down to the hotel lobby, there was an airport shuttle in the circle drive out front, discharging a tired looking woman in a charcoal gray dress. When the driver tried to wave her away, Olivia opened her wallet and offered him everything she had in cash – sixty-eight dollars and thirty-nine cents. He took all of it, even the change. When she asked him to drive fast because it was an emergency, he said he'd do his best. As far as Olivia was concerned, his best was slow, and she chewed the inside of her lip and twisted her hands as he drove.

The police were there ahead of her. One patrol car, lights flashing. Parked on the curb out front. Hugh's rental car was in the drive.

The shuttle driver eased to the curb and looked at Olivia over one shoulder, then handed back the cash.

‘Good luck, ma'am.'

‘Thanks,' Olivia said. Then she was out on the curb and running up the driveway, noting as her stomach sank that every single light was on in the house. It was always like that, all the lights on, when the bad things happened. She was beginning to read the signs.

The front door was wide open and Olivia ran into the living room, stopping when she saw the uniformed cop on the stairs. His gun was drawn and he was crouched in the protocol firing position.

‘Stay right there, ma'am. Don't move.'

‘But—'

‘I mean it. Don't move.'

He was in his thirties, with brown hair, and the spooked look in his eyes made Olivia think he might well fire his gun. In the distance, she heard sirens.

‘Who are you, ma'am, and what are you doing here?'

‘I'm Olivia James, and this is my house.'

‘I'm going to need to see identification. We've had a report of intruders.'

‘
Mike, I could use your help up here
.' A man, upstairs, another cop. Sounding panicked, sounding like trouble.

‘
I'm
the one who made the call. Look, my husband was here, Hugh James? We were talking on the phone and he said . . . he said there was someone in the house, and then the phone went dead. Is he here? I saw his car out in the drive, and I'm really worried that something happened to him.'

‘Can you describe him, ma'am?'

‘Five nine, slender, thick dark graying hair – likely wearing a charcoal blazer and loafers. Come on, you . . .'

‘Yes, ma'am. We've found him.' The officer straightened from his crouch and came down the stairs, watching her. He did not holster his gun. ‘I'm going to need to see that ID.'

Olivia's fingers were trembling and it was hard to get the driver's license out of the plastic slot, and Olivia finally handed him her entire wallet. He studied the picture on the license, the name, and the address that matched the house. The officer holstered his gun, and Olivia took a breath.

‘You've found him,' Olivia said.

The officer pointed to the couch. ‘I'm going to ask you to sit down, please, ma'am, we've got an ambulance coming—'

She ran past him, heard him shout something to his partner. She scrambled up the steps, noting that two of the spindles on the railing banister were splintered, one entirely broken off. Olivia recognized Hugh's shoe as she turned the corner to the landing, a brown loafer, on its side against the woodwork. And Hugh's Blackberry, up against the wall as if it had been kicked away.

There was another police officer in the hallway, and he was shouting something at her, but there was so much noise in her head she could not make out the words. And he could not move, he was holding Hugh by the legs, trying to relieve the pressure on Hugh's neck as he dangled, hung from supporting struts on the attic fan with a long, red leather belt.

Olivia ran for the stepladder in the bathroom, thinking how handy it was to have it right when she needed it, and she held Hugh's legs while the officer climbed and cut Hugh down. She could hardly hold Hugh when he dropped, but there were three of them now, one of the officers had him by the shoulders and it was awkward but they caught him and did not let him fall. Olivia worked the belt off Hugh's neck, one of the officers started CPR, and there were more sirens and more men thundering up the stairs, and Olivia held Hugh's hand, limp now but still warm, and turned away from the wide eyes, still hemorrhaging blood.

More paramedics arrived, shouldering Olivia aside, and she stood and watched them working. It was hard not to hope, but she knew as soon as she'd seen all the lights on inside the house. Hugh was gone. Just like everyone else.

She was aware when the paramedics gave up, she could feel it, sense it from the things they said, the way they slowed, the way they avoided her eyes. She walked to the end of the hall and picked up Hugh's Blackberry. It was set on record. She slipped it into the pocket of her jeans and sat down suddenly, legs splayed out in front of her, like a child.

‘Ma'am? Ma'am, are you okay?'

Olivia pulled her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The nausea was sudden and intense. She breathed slowly, and squeezed her eyes shut tight, and tried not to vomit.