“Well, maybe ...” She stopped herself. Why was she acting like an old family friend? And who was she, of all people, to dole out a map for the road to recovery? “Never mind,” she said, and smiled as they reached the car.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” Sean said. “I’d be happy to show you the letter if it’ll help, and anything else I come across. Might take a couple days. I’d have to figure out which box it’s in.”
“That’d be wonderful. Thanks.” She climbed into her seat and glanced back at the house. “Also, thank you for not saying anything to Luanne. I know how hokey it all sounds.”
“No worries. It’s not a time in history she likes to talk about anyway. Dredges up a lot of tough memories.”
Audra should have realized the detour wasn’t only for her. The woman could have lost her husband, or any number of loved ones, during a period of such massive tragedy.
Sean went to close the car door as Audra noted her oversight. “Wait. Should I write down my phone number?”
He tightened his lips to squelch a smile, suggesting he’d already found it on his own.
At the red light two blocks from her apartment, the cell phone buzzed in her purse. Audra felt a flutter of excitement before reminding herself that he wouldn’t call this soon.
As she scrounged for her phone, she thought of another person. Meredith. They hadn’t spoken since the party three days ago. Audra couldn’t blame her entirely for questioning Jack’s bruises, his cast, his not remembering how they happened. Still, Audra looked forward to her mother-in-law’s call of apology.
Those hopes fizzled from the name on the screen.
Audra answered on speakerphone. “Hi, Tess.”
“Where have you been all day? I left messages on both of your phones. You know you’re not allowed to have a social life without me.”
“Sorry. I had some things to take care of.” The light turned green, prompting Audra forward.
“Things, huh? That sounds cryptic.” Tess barely paused before pressing, “And?”
“And ... it was nothing. I was just out . . . seeing this guy . . .” Audra didn’t know how to continue unless she told her friend everything.
Tess gasped. “You’re seeing someone?”
“What? No. That’s—no.”
“Oh, my word. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me. Who is he?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody, my tush.” The woman even cursed like a perfect mother. “Don’t make me skip my appointments to go find you.”
Audra tried to argue, but a laugh escaped instead. The whole idea was ridiculous. Besides, in two months, barring a horrible twist, she and Jack would be moving to Boston.
“Seriously, Tess. I’m not dating anyone.”
“In that case, who is this guy you’re not dating?” Tess clamped down like a pit bull.
Audra fended off the inquisition as she steered through the parking lot and into her spot. “I’ve got to meet Jack at the bus stop. I’ll call you later.”
In the midst of her friend’s objection, Audra hung up and laughed again. She couldn’t recall the last time she had enjoyed her day this much.
She hopped out and headed for the apartment. The yellow transport would be rolling up soon. She could sort through the mail, even pay bills, while she waited.
“Are you Audra Hughes?” A lean man in a navy windbreaker stepped away from her door.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Audra Hughes?” he repeated as if robotically programmed.
“Yes. Who are you?”
He handed her a thin packet of papers and walked away.
“Hold on a second. What is this?”
He straddled his motorcycle, threw on a helmet, and started the engine. As he zoomed away, Audra regarded the document.
IN THE CIRCUIT COURT OF THE STATE OF OREGON
“A summons?” she read.
She skimmed the pages, first not understanding, then in disbelief. Every word was a brick, every line a steel beam. Yet she continued on to the end. As comprehension bore down, her arms nearly gave out.
Meredith and Robert had filed a petition.
For sole custody of Jack.
30
Nothing about the note reflected the person Vivian had once loved. No term of affection. No resemblance in handwriting. To be certain of this, she compared the letter from Euston Station. While cursive and print structurally differed, not even the V in her name matched the style of Isaak’s hand. Moreover, there was no logic in the secrecy.
TELL NO ONE. COME ALONE.
It could all be a cruel prank. A glass of spring water could not be clearer. Still, here she was in Prospect Park, on Binnen Bridge in the dark of night.