The Last Thing She Ever Did(50)

“You found out who took our son,” he said.

“No,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her to her office. “We haven’t. We don’t know yet what happened, Mr. Franklin.”

“Some pervert got him. I know it. I talked to my buddy at Anthony’s. He called me right after one of your officers chatted him up. Told me about his background. I want to know what the hell you’re going to do with Brad Collins.”

“He didn’t take your son,” she said, closing the door after him.

“You can’t know that. He’s got a record. He was on the river at the same time Charlie went missing.”

“Sit down,” she said. “Take a breath. Please.”

“I won’t sit down, and I won’t have you tell me what to do. Every second matters here and you know it. You need to get that guy in here and grill him.”

“We’ve interviewed him,” she said. “He’s not involved.”

“He’s a pedophile,” David shot back. “That kind of skunk doesn’t change his stripes. He’s into little boys. You know that.”

She shook her head. “His victim was seventeen. He was twenty-two. He’s on the registry—that’s right. But there’s no indication he’s offended a second time.”

“There’s no such thing as a onetime sex offender and you know it.”

“It’s rare, I’ll give you that,” Esther said. “But, again, he was twenty-two and his victim was seventeen. He’s never been known to have the least bit of interest in little boys.” She could see he wasn’t hearing her. He was operating with tunnel vision, and Brad Collins was in his crosshairs at the end of the tunnel. “Now, please go home. We’re working this as hard as we can. We’re leaving no stone unturned. Really none. How is Mrs. Franklin?”

“How do you think she is? She’s drugged up on a sedative and even that doesn’t stop her from crying nonstop.”

“Go home to her,” Esther said. “Take care of her.”

“I can’t go home right now,” he said. “I have a restaurant to run.”



Lee Nguyen sat on the steps outside her daughter’s condo.

“You don’t answer my calls,” Esther’s mother said. “So here I am.”

Esther let out a sigh. “Mom,” she said, “I’ve been busy.”

Lee kept her expression even. “Not busy,” she said. “Just angry at me.”

Lee’s black hair was sprinkled with so much white that it nearly looked like a late-winter snowdrift. It was just as stiff. Lacquered by an overabundance of hairspray. She wore black pants, a white blouse, and a bright pink sweater.

“You are my daughter,” she said. “You owe me the respect of an answer when I telephone you.”

“You drove a long way just to let me know you’re disappointed in me again, Mom.”

Lee hooked her arm in her purse and faced her daughter. “Your silence kills me every day.”

Mom wins. She always does.

“Fine,” Esther said. “Come in, then.”

Lee followed her daughter to the door of the condo. She was a diminutive woman, but she moved quickly. Esther always considered her mother catlike, showing up suddenly to sharpen her claws and then leave.

“Do you have a view?” Lee asked, a reminder that she’d never been there since Esther broke up with her husband.

“No, Mom,” Esther said. “I don’t.”

Inside, the detective went into the kitchen, where she turned on the electric kettle, a wedding shower gift, for tea. Though the space was spotless and nicely decorated with a mix of contemporary art and furnishings, the look on her mother’s face indicated that she didn’t approve.

“Small place,” she said.

“Really, Mom?” Esther said, thinking back to every other aspect of her life her mother had found fault with. Her career. Her clothing. Her almost ex-husband. It would never end.

“Sorry,” she said. “I told myself to make nice, but I think it is hard for me.”

The admission surprised Esther. Her mother had never indicated any faults of her own.

Maybe she’s trying.

They sat at the dining table drinking tea and picking at almond cookies from a box purchased at Trader Joe’s.

Lee put down her cup. “I saw on TV the case you are working on, Esther. I hope that you find that little boy. I hope that you can bring him home to his parents. I don’t know what I ever would have done if I lost you.”

Esther smiled a little.

Her mom was trying.

“There are lots of ways to lose someone,” Esther said.

“Right,” Lee answered. “Lots of ways.”

“I love you, Mom. I just can’t stand your disappointment in me. It hurts me to think that you live in constant displeasure over the choices I’ve made.”

“He was not a good husband.”

She was right, of course.

“Yes. But it’s done. So if we’re going to move on and get along, then we have to let that alone.”

“You could have been a doctor,” Lee said.

Esther smiled. Her mom’s refrain was decidedly familiar. “And that too, Mom. Leave that alone. I’m doing what I need to do.”