Andrea had never been inside the Beverly Center. Shopping malls were always so bright and so crowded, and years of darkness and isolation had left her afraid of places like that.
The drive there took thirty-five minutes. She left her car in a self-parking area and rode a dizzying series of escalators that climbed the outside of the building, enclosed in Plexiglas tubes. Were there FBI people somewhere behind her on the escalators? If so, she couldn’t spot them when she glanced over her shoulder.
A map of the mall showed her the way to Williams-Sonoma, a store she had never visited in her life. As she entered, she caught sight of Abby browsing in the kitchenware section. In what she hoped was a casual manner, she sidled up next to Abby and pretended to look at a ridiculously overpriced toaster.
Abby spoke in a low voice without looking at her. “Thanks for coming.”
“What’s this is about?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Is somebody watching me? Or listening-”
“We’ll get into that. Right now I want you to pick up the item at the counter. It’s already paid for, and it’s in your name. Then go up to the food court on Level Eight and meet me in the ladies’ room.”
Andrea swallowed. “Okay.” She almost moved away, then hesitated. “What exactly is a garlic genius?”
“It’s this little handheld metal doohickey that minces garlic cloves. No household should be without one.”
Andrea found it easier to obey than to ask any more questions. She accepted the package from the salesclerk and carried her shopping bag out of the store. Abby, she noticed, was already gone.
On the eighth floor, near a food court called Cafe L.A., she found the ladies’ room. It was empty except for Abby, who handed her a cell phone as soon as she entered.
“Keep this turned on and with you at all times. It’s how I can contact you and speak freely.”
“So… someone is listening to my calls?”
“Yes.”
“And watching my house? Following me?”
“Yes.”
“Who? The FBI?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, God. They know who I am.” It was not quite a question.
“I’m afraid they do.” Abby glanced at the door. “There are two agents tailing you now. I saw them window-shopping near Williams-Sonoma when I left.”
“I didn’t see anybody.”
“You’re not trained to see them. The good news is, they’re both male.”
“How is that good news?”
“If there was a woman on the detail, she might come in here. Our gentlemen friends will probably be discreet enough to stay outside.” Abby gave her a discerning look. “You seem pretty frazzled. How are you holding up?”
“Not too well. I hardly slept at all, and when I did, I had these terrible dreams. I dreamed the men were breaking in again, with ski masks and guns, and you weren’t there to protect me…” She ran a hand through her hair, pulling distractedly at the locks.
“You don’t need worry about that now,” Abby said. “No one’s going to get into the house again. Not with the FBI looking out for you.”
“Looking out for me.” Andrea almost laughed. “Yes, sure. Until they decide to arrest me for using a false identity.”
“You won’t go to prison for that. And although the FBI may be somewhat interested in you, they’re a lot more interested in Congressman Reynolds.”
Andrea felt a rush of blood from her head. She held on to a sink to steady herself. “But they can’t know… they can’t…”
“They do.”
“How can they? Nobody knows. I never told…”
“Don’t worry about that now. They know about it, and so do I. But you need to tell me something about your relationship with Reynolds.”
“What?”
Before Abby could answer, the door opened and a woman walked in. The two of them busied themselves at the sinks, taking an inordinate amount of time to soap up and rinse off their hands before drying them. Finally the woman left. Abby picked up the conversation as if there had been no interruption.
“Any significant detail. Something that only you and he would know.”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“Don’t ask for whys and wherefores. I’m asking you trust me. Which I guess you do, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes. I do trust you.” Andrea realized this was true. It was the first time in twenty years that she had trusted anyone. The thought seemed to lighten her burden just a little. “All right. When he and I were… dating, we used to meet a lot of times on his boat.”
“Where was the boat?”
“In the marina at Newport Beach.”
“What was the name of it?”
“ The Mariner. It was an old boat he bought secondhand, and he used to call it the ancient Mariner. Funny how I remember that. I haven’t thought of it in a long time.”
For a moment the old days came back to her, the liaisons at the marina, hours of intimacy in the cramped quarters below deck, then the quiet time afterward when, in darkness, they would share a drink under the stars and watch the water ripple against the mossy pylons of the dock.
She caught Abby watching her with sympathy. “We always have nostalgia,” Abby said in a low voice, “even for the things we regret.”
Andrea nodded.
“Thanks for the info,” Abby added more briskly. “Now get a bite to eat at the food court. Otherwise your friends may wonder why you came up here. Then go home and stay put. And keep that phone close to you. I’ll be calling later.”
“You have some kind of plan, don’t you?”
“I always have a plan.” Abby hesitated. “In this case, I may need you to act fast.”
“To do what?”
“To get away from the watchful eyes of the federal bureaucracy. Don’t worry. It’s easier than it sounds.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will, eventually. In the meantime you’ll just have to go on trusting me, if you can.”
“I can. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“I’ve done such bad things. I’m not sure I deserve your help.”
“We’ve all done bad things. I know I have.”
Andrea met her eyes. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
Abby didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
“Did they deserve it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that makes it all right, then.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Andrea looked away. “The ones I killed… they didn’t deserve …”
“I know.”
“What I did-it’s something you go to hell for. I think about that sometimes. Being in hell.”
“Seems to me you’re already there.”
“I’m only punishing myself, that’s all.”
“That can be the worst kind of punishment.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s enough. I don’t know if anything can ever be enough.”
A beat of silence passed between them. “Andrea,” Abby said quietly, “can I ask you something? You could’ve told the world about Jack Reynolds, ruined him, ended his career. But you never did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“He got to me while I was in the hospital. He was the D.A., and he used his credentials to get in and talk to me alone.”
“And he threatened you?”
“No. What did he have to threaten me with? I’d already lost everything.”
“Then what…?”
“He told me-he told me he still loved me.” Her voice broke on the last words. “He told me he’d been wrong to break up with me. That he’d been planning to take me back-until everything happened.”
“Did you believe him?”
She heard the skepticism in Abby’s question. “I know what you’re asking. How could I be so naive?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I did believe him. He said he forgave me for the children. He said it was all right. He said I hadn’t been myself when I did it. And that I shouldn’t blame myself or think of it as a sin.”
“I see.”
“He’s the only one who said anything like that. To everyone else I was the devil incarnate. Medea, the witch. But he told me it was all right. And they were his children. He’s the last person who should ever have forgiven me-but he did.”
“Yes.” Abby’s voice was very low. “He did.”
“It wasn’t just talk. He helped me, too. He arranged it so I was declared incompetent to stand trial. If I’d been put on trial, I would have been sent to prison for life. As it was, I went into the hospital, and I was out in twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“I never would have survived prison. Do you know what they do in there to-to people who’ve killed children? He saved my life.”
“I guess he did.”
Andrea sighed. “I’m sure you think I was just manipulating me. That he didn’t want me in a courtroom because I might say too much. But you’re wrong.”
“Am I? Then why did he send those thugs into your house yesterday?”
She knew the answer to that. “Because I screwed up.”
Abby looked at her. “You?”
“I started going to his events. I didn’t think he would recognize me, not after all these years, with a wig and dark glasses. But he did. I broke the rules.”
“What rules?”
“He promised to help me only if I gave my word I would never try to see him again.”
“If you gave your word, why did you start…?”
“Stalking him?” Andrea almost smiled.
“Attending his campaign rallies,” Abby said diplomatically.
“I don’t know. Something made me want to do it. It didn’t make sense. It was like-like I couldn’t stay away. Like I just had to see him.” She was touching her hair again-a nervous habit, but one she’d never noticed before.
“Did you hope to get back together with him?” Abby asked.
A shudder coursed through her. “No. No, of course not. I knew that could never happen.”
“Then… why?”
“I don’t know, Abby. I just don’t.”
“Okay, okay.” Abby reached out to steady her. “Sorry I pushed. It’s an occupational hazard for those of us with a psych degree. We keep trying to peel the onion.”
Andrea wiped her eyes. “Peeling onions makes me cry.”
“Yeah, I got that. But at least now you can mince garlic with no problem.” This was a joke, but Andrea couldn’t find the strength to smile. “Look,” Abby said more seriously, “go home, lie down, close your eyes. Just keep that phone nearby and turned on.”
“Okay. I still don’t understand, though. I don’t see what you could possibly need me for.”
“It all comes back to you, Andrea. Everything comes back to you.”
That was true, of course. Reynolds and the killers who invaded her home, and the FBI people watching her and tapping her phone, and Abby’s involvement-all of it came back to her, and to what she had done twenty years ago, her ineradicable past, which she could never escape.
Abby seemed to catch her mood. She smiled. “Hey, no worries. I’m on the case. I’m handling everything.”
“I wish I could be as confident as you are.”
“It’s a gift. Now get going. Those G-men must be getting antsy. And don’t do anything to show you’re on to them. Just act normal.”
“Normal.” This time Andrea did smile. “Yes, that’s me.”
She left the restroom, taking care not to look for the FBI men, as Abby had warned. But they were there, anyway. She knew it now, knew it even without seeing them.
They would always be there.