Run Away(54)

“My daughter is missing.”

“You told me that already. I have no idea where she is. Please go away.”

“I have some questions.”

“And I don’t have to answer them.” He stood a little straighter, threw back his shoulders for effect. “I’m mourning my son today.”

There was no reason to be subtle. “Are you?” Simon asked.

Surprise came to Wiley’s face—Simon had expected that—but there was something deeper.

Fear.

“Am I what?”

“Aaron’s father.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t look like him at all.”

Wiley’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

“Tell me about Aaron’s mother.”

He looked as though he were about to say something, caught himself, and then a smile crossed Wiley Corval’s face. The smile was creepy. Extra creepy. Simon almost took a step back.

“You’ve been talking to my wife.”

Something occurred to Simon at that moment, something that perhaps Enid had been hinting at, or perhaps it was seeing Wiley in the flesh, dressed right now to play some part, or perhaps it had been the expression on Wiley’s face when Simon first stumbled across him down in the woods.

There was no grief emanating from Wiley Corval.

Of course, all the clichés apply here—people grieve in their own way, just because you can’t see a man is hurting doesn’t mean he isn’t, he could be putting on a brave face—but they all rang hollow. Enid had described her husband as theatrical. Simon got that now, as if everything he did was part of an act, including his feelings.

That little boy. Living alone with a man who claimed to be his father.

Simon tried to hold back his imagination, but it became a bucking horse, running wild, running toward the worst thoughts, the most awful, depraved scenarios.

They can’t be true, Simon told himself.

And yet.

“I’ll get a court order.”

“For what?” Wiley asked, spreading his hands, the picture now of pure innocence.

“Parentage.”

“Seriously?” That damned creepy smile. “Aaron was cremated.”

“I can find his DNA in other ways.”

“Doubtful. And even if you could somehow get his DNA and mine, it would show that I’m his father.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

He’s enjoying this, Simon thought.

“And just for the sake of a fun mental exercise, suppose you did run the test and suppose it showed I wasn’t Aaron’s biological father, what would that prove?”

Simon said nothing.

“Maybe his mother cheated on me. What difference could that make all these years later? The test wouldn’t show that, of course—this is all a hypothetical; I was Aaron’s father—but what do you think you’d be able to prove?” Wiley took two steps toward Simon. “My son was a drug dealer living with your junkie daughter in the Bronx. That’s where he was murdered. Whatever gossip Enid told you, you have to see that his murder has nothing to do with his childhood.”

That made sense, of course. On the surface, there was no way to argue with any of that. There was not a scintilla of evidence that linked whatever potential awfulness had occurred to a young boy in this very inn and his bloody murder decades later in that Bronx tenement.

And yet.

Simon shifted gears.

“When did Aaron start getting into drugs?”

The oily smile was back. “Maybe you should ask Enid about that.”

“When did he move away?”

“When did who move away?”

“Who are we talking about? Aaron.”

Another smile. Christ, he was really enjoying this.

“Enid didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Aaron didn’t move away.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Enid has a place. It’s a sort of club.”

“What about it?”

“There’s an apartment off the back,” Wiley said. “Aaron lived there.”

“Until when?”

“I wouldn’t really know. Aaron and I…we were estranged.”

Simon tried to follow this. “So when did he move near Lanford College?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He moved there. I think Aaron was working at a club when he met Paige.”

Wiley actually laughed out loud now. “Who told you that?”

Now Simon felt the chill again.

“You think they met in Lanford?”

“They didn’t?”

“No.”

“Where then?”

“Here.” He nodded at the look of surprise on Simon’s face. “Paige came here.”

“To the inn?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see her?”

“I did.” Now the laugh was gone, the smile falling away. His voice turned grave. “I also saw her…after.”

“After what?”

“After she’d been with Aaron for a few months. The difference, what he did to her…” Wiley Corval stopped, shook his head. “If you did harm my son, I almost can’t blame you. I can only tell you that I’m sorry.”