Chapter Twenty-Four

Sensible women would have gone to Jen’s house for the night. On the off chance that Hicks was looking for me, he wouldn’t know to look there. Neither of us suggested moving. Jen raided the ice cream stash in the freezer—my parents always had eight to ten pints on hand—and we binged while catching up. I told her about my encounter with Mayor Paradise. She said he’d married a classmate of ours but had divorced a couple of years ago. Not that I was interested, of course.

Dad came home in the morning, looking sleepy and rumpled. “They took your mother for some final tests. Assuming those go well, they’ll release her to Sunshine Haven in an hour or two. I wanted to grab a shower first.”

“I’ll make breakfast,” Jen said. “We can all go together to move Mom.”

Dad looked from her to me, raised his eyebrows, and smiled before heading upstairs.

As we ate Jen’s omelets, Dad asked about my plans for the day.

“I’m not sure. This investigation has taken so much of my time. I don’t know what to do with myself now. Somewhere, I have a list of all the other stuff I need to take care of.”

In a way, I would miss tackling the problems at Sunshine Haven. Not that I wanted the danger, but the challenge had given me purpose. Even though my leg was improving, I was still a long way from being able to head back to reporting on international conflicts. Maybe I’d never get there.

The thought wasn’t as painful as it had been a few weeks before. Did I even want to return overseas? If I only saw my parents once or twice a year, how many visits would I get with Mom before she didn’t recognize me, and I didn’t understand her? How much longer did Dad have? Ten years? That wasn’t a lot of visits, and even if he had no major health problems now, things could change suddenly. Then I had Jen again, and the niece and nephew and brother-in-law I hadn’t even seen yet.

Maybe it was time to come home for good.

My mind flinched at that thought. What would I do with myself? Who would I be? I didn’t have so many years left myself. I’d always assumed I had plenty of time to do more, be more. But my brush with death trumpeted the truth: one never knew how much time remained. What had my parents wanted to do but had never gotten around to? Had they assumed they had years left?

What did I want to do with the time allotted to me? Or the age-old question, what did I want to be when I grew up?

I put those thoughts away for later. I’d had enough soul-searching for one week.

We were leisurely getting ourselves ready to go when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered.

“Jenny?” a woman’s voice asked.

“No, it’s Kate. Mom?”

“Oh, hello, Kate. He said talk to my daughter. I got confused.”

“Who said? Mom, what’s going on?”

A man’s voice came over the phone. “It’s time you listen to me.”

My vision blurred and my legs sagged. Hands grabbed me and lowered me to the couch. As my vision cleared, I saw Jen and my father staring down at me.

The voice came through the phone. “You ruin lives, and you have no idea what you’re doing.”

The voice wasn’t Hicks.

I started breathing again. “Norman Mendelson?”

“That’s right. You think you know me. You don’t know anything.”

“What are you doing with my mother?”

His laugh sounded hysterical. “Don’t worry. We’re still at the hospital. It’s nice up here. We have a great view.”

“Where are you exactly?” I had to force the words out. “What do you want?”

“I want you to listen. You never listen!”

“I’ll listen. What do you want me to know?”

“Not like this. Come here, to the roof. Alone. No police, no one else, or I’ll—I’ll push your mother over the edge. The hospital won’t be able to save her then.”

I tried to keep my voice calm, gentle, when inside I was screaming.

“I’ll do what you say. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” That sounded like forever, but it would take at least that long. “Please don’t—”

“Alone. Hurry. We’re waiting.” He hung up.

Dad and Jen had slumped down on either side of me. I didn’t know if they’d heard Mendelson’s words, but my part of the conversation must have terrified them.

“I shouldn’t have left her,” Dad said. “Not even for a minute. But the nurse—they took her to another room—they said—”

“It’s not your fault.” I hoped he remembered everything else he had told me about blaming oneself. At the moment, I couldn’t.

Jen jumped up. “The hospital was supposed to be watching her!”

“They were warned about Hicks, not Mendelson. They knew someone from Sunshine Haven was coming to get her. They wouldn’t know he was on leave. He probably still has his ID.” I wasn’t sure I could stand, let alone walk, but I said, “Let’s go. We have to get to the hospital.”

Jen grabbed the cane I’d let fall and helped me rise. She led the way to the door. “I’ll drive.”

We didn’t speak again until we were all in her car. I explained what Mendelson had said.

“Do we call the police?” Jen asked.

My head pounded. “He said not to.”

“In those police shows, it’s always bad when the families of kidnap victims don’t call the police.”

I had experience judging dangerous situations, dangerous people. But I wasn’t always right. Poor judgment had gotten me injured. Poor judgment could kill my mother. I dragged in breaths. I had to calm down and think clearly. I had to make the right call.

A few hours earlier, I’d wanted to leave everything to the police. But could we afford to do that now?

“I don’t think Mendelson is a killer. I don’t think he wants to be. He said he wants me to listen. If we make him panic, he might go further than he intends.”

“He sounds crazy,” Dad said. “I can’t bear the thought of you and your mother on the roof with him.”

Mendelson wasn’t a big guy, but Mom and I wouldn’t win any fitness awards at the moment. I’d taken some self-defense training. Would the techniques work with my injured leg? I could still drop to the ground and kick at his knees with my good leg. That wouldn’t help if he dragged Mom to the edge of the roof.

I couldn’t let it turn physical. I’d listen, as he wanted. Maybe that would be enough for him. If not . . .

“I’ll call Detective Padilla. I won’t let her send in squad cars with screaming sirens. Give me a chance to talk to Mendelson first. A door must open onto the roof. You two and Padilla can be waiting on the other side of the door. If things start to go badly . . .”

“How will we know if it’s going badly?” Jen asked.

“Before I go out, I’ll call you and put my phone . . .” I needed to start wearing shirts with pockets. “In my bra. You should hear the conversation if I point the microphone outward.”

Neither of them looked happy, but they nodded, so I called Padilla and filled her in. By the time I’d finished, and Padilla was done swearing at herself, the hospital staff, Mendelson, and me for not telling her about Mendelson earlier, we were at the hospital. I lowered my window and craned my neck. The building was at least six stories high, the roof too high to see clearly. All I did was make myself sick picturing my mother up there, too close to the edge.

Jen pulled up to the hospital’s main entrance.

“We’re going in,” I told Padilla. “Join us when you can.” I ended the call.

While I wrestled my body and my cane out of the car, Jen dashed to the valet parking kiosk and tossed the guy her keys. She spun back and reached the doors before I did. The valet chased after her and shoved a ticket in her hands.

Dad stayed by my side, one hand ready to support me if I faltered. Jen rushed to the information desk and rejoined us before we’d crossed the lobby.

“Those elevators.” She pointed. “They go to the top floor. She didn’t know about roof access, but hopefully, we can get up from there.”

She darted ahead again to push the elevator button and hold the door open, her foot tapping as we tried to catch up.

When a man stepped in front of us, Jen snapped at him. “This elevator isn’t stopping until we get to the top floor. Take another one.”

He edged sideways with a wary look.

The elevator seemed to take forever. What if Mendelson got tired of waiting? What if he thought I wasn’t coming, and decided to punish Mom?

Don’t check the time.

It wouldn’t do any good. I should have called him back, kept him on the phone, distracted him. But I’d been busy calling Padilla and making plans. Had I made the best decision? What should I have done differently, better?

Finally, the elevator doors opened. I stepped out and looked around. Where was the roof access? Once again, Jen bounded ahead, disappearing around a corner.

Seconds later, she waved us forward. “This way!”

My leg ached, but it was nothing compared to the pain squeezing my chest. My mind whirled with blame for all the mistakes I’d made, terror for Mom, fear that I wouldn’t be able to save her. I tried to shove all those thoughts down deep. I didn’t have time for them.

Focus on now. Do what needs to be done.

A sign said Roof Access next to stairs going up. I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my breathing, and pulled out my phone with a trembling hand. Jen grabbed her phone and nodded. I turned on a recording app, so we’d have evidence of anything Mendelson said, then put the call through to Jen. I tucked my phone in my bra, under my shirt, but with the microphone sticking out and pointing forward.

Jen backed away a few paces.

“Test it.” She punched a button on her phone.

When I spoke, my voice came through on speaker.

Jen nodded. “Loud and clear.”

Dad and I exchanged a last look of anxiety and hope.

“You can do this,” he whispered.

He had to be right. I would accept no other option.

I pushed open the door and headed up the steps to save my mother.