result. That's not physically possible, is it?”
Gillian could only make a painful hop of her shoulders.
”It's too early to know I'm pregnant. Unless the tester kit was faulty”Robyn saw a glimmer of hope. ”They're not one hundred percent accurate, are they?”
”You'd best make an appointment to see your doctor, Robyn.”
Ahead lay Robyn's house on a street of mansions with swimming pools.
Hell, soon she couldn't even call this home. The bank would repossess within the next few weeks. What then? Raise her child in a two-bed apartment with Mom and Emerson? Good God. What a start in life. She shuddered.
The sound of Gillian's car slowing down at the house brought reality kicking its way savagely back.
”I'll have to get it over with and tell Mom now”Robyn unbuckled the seatbelt. The fluttering movements sprang up in her stomach again. Jeez, there could have been a bird in there beating its wings like crazy.
Another thought struck her. ”And how on earth do I tell Noel?”
”Robyn, it's not easy but my advice is as soon as possible.”
”I don't know how he's going to take it. He's only just started college.
He'd even planned to take a year off when he qualified to travel around the world. Now with this…” She rubbed her stomach. ”My God, what's he going to say, Gillian?” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Gillian hugged her. ”My sister was a year younger than you when she had Benjamin.”
”Eighteen? She was still a kid herself.”
”She coped… no, more than that, she did great. She's so happy you'd think she'd burst.”
Robyn dabbed her eyes. ”Okay. Time to face the music.”
***
At home Benedict West drew the blinds to shut out the sun. Down in the yard the old man's dog was barking at birds in the sky. Butch did that when he saw the migrating bird flocks in the spring and fall. Maybe Butch had been born with the soul of a bird and wanted to join the flight. Benedict loosened a button on the Hawaiian shirt, then poured himself another coffee. With that done, he switched on the Betamax VCR.
He'd had to hunt through many a junk shop to find a Betamax machine that still worked. All those years ago after failing to interest the police in making a serious search for Mariah, he'd returned to the Luxor, determined to discover the truth himself. By that time the place had closed. The receivers had nailed boards over the doors and windows and erected a sign at the entrance to the parking lot. for sale: redevelopment site.
Nothing short of fury erupted inside him. He wasn't going to take these kinds of setbacks anymore. Not from disinterested cops. Not from a boarded-up building. He'd pried off one of the boards guarding a rear door, then kicked through a door panel. They were only ply, so he smashed a large enough hole to crawl through. The place had been stripped bare of fixtures and fittings. But in the lobby he'd found stacks of cartons. Someone had scrawled the word trash on them. In one he found six of the old-style videotapes with typewritten labels glued to them that read Benjamin Lockram. Volume 1-A Memoir and so on, right up to volume seven. Volume five was missing.
That's how one Benedict West had turned detective. But how the hell do you start investigating a missing persons case? He didn't know. All he could think of was that the first step would be to take all these cartons home and sift through them for clues. After all, he was convinced of one thing: Mariah Lee had walked into the Luxor. Mariah Lee had never walked back out.
So, as the hot spring morning became a hotter spring afternoon, with the sounds of Chicago enjoying that first taste of summer, Benedict slotted volume 1 into the hulking case of the ancient Betamax machine with its chromed levers and knobs. Then he sat down to watch Benjamin
Gillian could only make a painful hop of her shoulders.
”It's too early to know I'm pregnant. Unless the tester kit was faulty”Robyn saw a glimmer of hope. ”They're not one hundred percent accurate, are they?”
”You'd best make an appointment to see your doctor, Robyn.”
Ahead lay Robyn's house on a street of mansions with swimming pools.
Hell, soon she couldn't even call this home. The bank would repossess within the next few weeks. What then? Raise her child in a two-bed apartment with Mom and Emerson? Good God. What a start in life. She shuddered.
The sound of Gillian's car slowing down at the house brought reality kicking its way savagely back.
”I'll have to get it over with and tell Mom now”Robyn unbuckled the seatbelt. The fluttering movements sprang up in her stomach again. Jeez, there could have been a bird in there beating its wings like crazy.
Another thought struck her. ”And how on earth do I tell Noel?”
”Robyn, it's not easy but my advice is as soon as possible.”
”I don't know how he's going to take it. He's only just started college.
He'd even planned to take a year off when he qualified to travel around the world. Now with this…” She rubbed her stomach. ”My God, what's he going to say, Gillian?” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Gillian hugged her. ”My sister was a year younger than you when she had Benjamin.”
”Eighteen? She was still a kid herself.”
”She coped… no, more than that, she did great. She's so happy you'd think she'd burst.”
Robyn dabbed her eyes. ”Okay. Time to face the music.”
***
At home Benedict West drew the blinds to shut out the sun. Down in the yard the old man's dog was barking at birds in the sky. Butch did that when he saw the migrating bird flocks in the spring and fall. Maybe Butch had been born with the soul of a bird and wanted to join the flight. Benedict loosened a button on the Hawaiian shirt, then poured himself another coffee. With that done, he switched on the Betamax VCR.
He'd had to hunt through many a junk shop to find a Betamax machine that still worked. All those years ago after failing to interest the police in making a serious search for Mariah, he'd returned to the Luxor, determined to discover the truth himself. By that time the place had closed. The receivers had nailed boards over the doors and windows and erected a sign at the entrance to the parking lot. for sale: redevelopment site.
Nothing short of fury erupted inside him. He wasn't going to take these kinds of setbacks anymore. Not from disinterested cops. Not from a boarded-up building. He'd pried off one of the boards guarding a rear door, then kicked through a door panel. They were only ply, so he smashed a large enough hole to crawl through. The place had been stripped bare of fixtures and fittings. But in the lobby he'd found stacks of cartons. Someone had scrawled the word trash on them. In one he found six of the old-style videotapes with typewritten labels glued to them that read Benjamin Lockram. Volume 1-A Memoir and so on, right up to volume seven. Volume five was missing.
That's how one Benedict West had turned detective. But how the hell do you start investigating a missing persons case? He didn't know. All he could think of was that the first step would be to take all these cartons home and sift through them for clues. After all, he was convinced of one thing: Mariah Lee had walked into the Luxor. Mariah Lee had never walked back out.
So, as the hot spring morning became a hotter spring afternoon, with the sounds of Chicago enjoying that first taste of summer, Benedict slotted volume 1 into the hulking case of the ancient Betamax machine with its chromed levers and knobs. Then he sat down to watch Benjamin
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