Promise Not To Tell(49)

“He’s on his way home?” Melissa asked, urgent and hopeful.

“I’ll let you discuss it with him.”

Cabot held the phone out to Xavier, who groaned and reluctantly uncurled from the chair. He took the phone.

“I’m okay, Mom… Yeah, I know. But as long as I’m here in Seattle, I want to stay a couple of days. I can take care of myself. I’m almost eighteen. I’ve got some money and the credit card Dad gave me. Yes, I’m coming home soon, I promise. No, I’m not going to do anything stupid. Yes, sure, you can talk to him. He’s right here.”

Xavier held out the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

Reluctantly, Cabot took the phone. “What do you want from me, Mrs. Kennington?”

“I want you to put him on the next plane home,” Melissa said.

Cabot studied the stubborn set of Xavier’s shoulders. “That is a very good idea, but I can’t force him to go home.”

“You have to do something.”

“What would you suggest?”

“I don’t know, but this is your fault. You’re the reason he’s there in Seattle.”

“You’re blaming me? I never even met Xavier until about ten minutes ago.”

“He’s heard about you for years,” Melissa said. “You’re the family mystery. Of course he’s curious about you.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do. I can strongly suggest that he buy a ticket home but beyond that —”

“I know.” Melissa sounded defeated. “His father says I should step back and let Xavier experience the consequences of his actions. This isn’t the first time Xavier has run off. But he’s missing school and he can’t afford to do that. This is his senior year. He’s supposed to start college in the fall.”

“Like I said, there’s not much I can do from this end,” Cabot said.

“He went looking for you because he’s curious about you. No offense, but you are not exactly a good influence. My son is going to college. I don’t want him to be distracted. I’m afraid he’s developed a very unrealistic, highly romanticized impression of the sort of work you do.”

“Here’s the thing – I don’t want to be any kind of influence, good or bad. I just want the Kenningtons to go back to their long-standing policy of ignoring me.”

There was a short silence from the other end of the line. When Melissa spoke again, there was a very subdued note in her voice.

“Is it true that after your mother died, your grandfather let you go into the foster care system?” There was another pause. “I’ve heard conflicting stories.”

“It’s true.”

Melissa made a disgusted sound. “Your grandfather really was a bastard.”

“Something we can agree on at last. But you don’t have to waste any time feeling sorry for me. I got lucky in the system. That man who answered the phone a few minutes ago happens to be my dad.”

“I see. Mr. Salinas sounded very nice. Very understanding.”

“He is. I’m not.”

“Look, I’m sorry Xavier tracked you down, but we both have the same goals here. You want to send him home. I want him to come home. Maybe if you just answer some of his questions about the past and what you do for a living, that will be enough to satisfy him.”

“I don’t have an obligation to answer anyone’s questions,” Cabot said.

“I know you have no reason to give a damn about any of the adults in this family,” Melissa said, her voice sharpening again. “But I had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago and neither did my son. I hope you will remember that and treat Xavier with some kindness. His father and I are in the middle of a very nasty divorce. Xavier is not dealing with it well. Neither am I, for that matter.”

The phone went dead in Cabot’s hand. He set it down with great care and looked at Xavier.

“I understand you’ve got questions for me,” Cabot said.

Xavier flushed a dull red. “I just wanted to meet you.”

“You’ve met me. I don’t have time to answer a lot of questions. I told you, I’m working a case. Where do you plan to stay tonight?”

“I dunno.”

“You do realize that it will be next to impossible for a kid your age to check into a respectable hotel without an adult?”

That was clearly news to Xavier. But after a moment of confusion, he shrugged off the problem.

“I’ll find something,” he said. “Maybe one of the shelters.”

The vision of Xavier – a na?ve kid who had grown up with money, private schools and designer clothes – spending a night in one of the city’s homeless shelters boggled the mind.

“I don’t have time for this,” Cabot said. He pushed himself up out of his chair, went around his desk and opened the door. “Anson, can you handle a houseguest tonight?”

Anson looked past him to Xavier, who bore a startling resemblance to a really stubborn deer in the headlights.

“No problem,” Anson said. “We’ll send out for pizza. You and Virginia can join us.”

“Love to,” Virginia said.

I’m doomed, Cabot thought.

Anson smiled at Virginia. “I’ve got some good news. The cleaners have finished up in your gallery. You should be able to open tomorrow. Business as usual.”