The Boy from the Woods(92)

“Nice place,” Hester said.

“Thank you. What do you want, Ms. Crimstein?”

“I’m trying to locate your daughter.”

“Your assistant mentioned that.”

“And you refused to talk to her about it.”

“This is the second time you called,” Pia said.

“Correct. The first time you cooperated. You told me that you didn’t know anything. So why the change?”

“I felt enough was enough.”

“Yeah, Pia, I’m not buying that.”

With the dark sunglasses it was impossible to know where the woman was looking, but she wasn’t facing Hester. The former Mrs. Pine was, no doubt about it, a stunning woman. Hester knew that Pia had been some kind of bathing suit model back in her day, but that day was really not that long ago.

“She’s not my daughter, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I terminated all my parental rights. You’re an attorney. You know what that means.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you terminate all parental rights?”

“You know that she’s adopted.”

“Naomi,” Hester said.

“What?”

“You keep calling her ‘she.’ Your daughter has a name. It’s Naomi. And who cares if she was adopted or not? What does that have to do with it?”

“I really can’t help you, Ms. Crimstein.”

“Has Naomi been in contact with you?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Did you voluntarily terminate your parental rights—or were they taken away from you?”

Pia still looked off, but a small smile came to her face. “It was voluntary.”

“Because you would have been brought up on charges?”

“Ah,” Pia said, with a small nod, “you spoke to Bernard.”

“You should be in jail.”

From behind them: “Mrs. Goldman?”

It was a young woman with a stroller.

“It’s time to take Nathan for his walk in the park.”

Pia turned toward the woman. Her face broke into a wide smile. “You start, Angie. I’ll catch up to you by the Conservatory Water.”

The young woman pulled the stroller away and left.

Hester tried to keep the horror out of her voice. “You have a son?”

“Nathan. He’s ten months old. And yes, he’s biologically mine and my husband’s.”

“I thought you couldn’t have children.”

“That’s what I thought. But of course, that’s what Bernard told me. Turns out the problems were with him.” She tilted her head. “Ms. Crimstein?”

Hester waited.

“I never abused her.”

“Naomi,” Hester said. “Her name is Naomi.”

“Bernard made that all up. He’s a liar and worse. I should have known what he was right away. Isn’t that what they say? But I didn’t. Or maybe I’m weak. Bernard abused me—verbally, emotionally, physically.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“You sound skeptical.”

“Don’t worry about how I sound,” Hester said, a little more sharply than she intended. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you really need to hear another abused-woman tale, Ms. Crimstein?” Pia smiled and tilted her head, and Hester wondered how many men had been smitten by that simple move. “Bernard can be very charming, very convincing. He’s also extremely manipulative. Did he tell you the hot-water story? That’s his favorite. Of course, if it had been true, she”—this time, Pia stopped herself—“I mean, Naomi would have gone to the hospital, wouldn’t she?”

Fair point, Hester thought.

“I don’t want to give you my whole life story. I came from a small town. I was…I guess the word is ‘blessed’ with a figure that drew too much attention. Everyone told me I should be a model. So I tried it. In truth, I was too short to make it big. I also wasn’t anorexic enough. But I got some jobs, mostly in lingerie ads. And then I fell for the wrong man. Bernard was good to me at first, but then his insecurities ate him alive. He was sure I had to be cheating on him. I’d come from a shoot and he’d ask a million questions—did any men talk to you, did anyone flirt with you, come on, someone had to have flirted with you, did you smile at them first, did you lead them on, why were you late?”

Pia stopped, took her sunglasses off, wiped her eyes.

“So you left?” Hester asked.

“Yes, I left. I had no choice. I got help. A lot of it. When I was back on my feet a little, I met Harry, my husband. You know the rest of the story.”

Hester made her voice as gentle as possible. “Has Naomi been in touch with you?”

“Why do you care?”

“It’s a long story, but I will never betray Naomi. Do you hear me? Whatever you tell me, you can trust me to do whatever I can to help.”

“But if I tell you,” Pia said, “I’d be betraying Naomi’s trust too.”

“You can trust me.”