I'll Walk Alone - Mary Higgins Clark [19]
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Zan …” Josh bit off what he was about to say. He was going to warn her that the police would undoubtedly want to question her again and that before she spoke to them, she had better get a lawyer.
Instead, he squeezed her hand and waited until she was safely inside the elevator before he left. Outside, the paparazzi, seeing him alone and sensing that there would be no more photo opportunities, were beginning to disperse. They’ll be back, Josh thought, as he got back in the cab. If there’s anything at all we can be sure of, it’s that they’ll be back, damn them.
13
After his outburst in the Four Seasons, Ted Carpenter had gone down to the men’s room. When he had jumped up and grabbed Zan, the glass of red wine he’d been holding had spilled all over his shirt and tie. Grabbing a towel, he’d futilely dabbed at the spots then looked in the mirror.
I look as if I’m bleeding to death, he thought, momentarily distracted from the stunning revelation that a tourist’s camera had caught Zan taking Matthew from Central Park.
He felt the vibration of his cell phone in his jacket pocket. He knew it would be Melissa.
It was.
He waited until he was sure she had finished leaving a message, then listened to his voice mail. “I know you can’t talk now, but meet me at Lola’s by 9:30.” There had been nothing of Melissa’s normally sexy voice in her message. Ted knew it was clearly an order. “It’ll be just the two of us. Then we’ll go down to the Club around 11:30,” Melissa continued. Then her voice turned petulant: “Don’t kiss your ex good night.”
I can’t be seen out partying when it’s just been reported that my ex-wife has kidnapped and probably hidden my child, he thought, aghast. When I call Melissa back and tell her what has happened, she’ll surely understand that.
The photos.
She probably hasn’t heard about them yet.
Why am I worried about Melissa? he asked himself. The question I should be screaming is: Are those photos fakes?
I know how photos can be manipulated. How many times have we eliminated unimportant people from our publicity shots? If you can take them out, you can put them in, too. It’s common practice to put a star’s face on a better-shaped body. Is this claim that Zan took Matthew just trick photo editing? How much did that tourist get for selling them to that Tell-All rag?
A man entering the restroom looked at Ted sympathetically. Ted exited quickly, not wanting to engage in conversation. If those photos turn out to be phonies, I’ll look despicable for attacking Zan the way I did, he thought in near despair. I’m supposed to be a master of public relations when it comes to crisis management.
He had to talk to Melissa. He would meet her. He had time to go home, change his shirt, and meet her at Lola’s. If the media was waiting outside, he would tell them that, on reflection, he abjectly begged Matthew’s mother’s pardon that he had been so quick to believe she had abducted their son.
Bracing himself, he walked out the lobby door where, as he had expected, camera crews were waiting for him. A microphone was stuck in his face. “Please,” he said, “I want to make a statement but can’t if you won’t give me room.”
As the shouted questions diminished, he took the microphone from the hand of one reporter. His voice firm, he said, “First, I must apologize to Matthew’s mother, my former wife, Alexandra Moreland, for my unspeakable behavior this evening. Both of us are desperate to find our little boy. When I heard that there were photographs in existence showing that Matthew’s mother had taken him, I quite literally lost it. A moment of reflection would have made me realize that those photos have got to be fake, or doctored, whatever name you want to give it.”
Ted paused, then added, “I am so sure that the photos are a hoax that I am going now to meet my client, the talented and beautiful Melissa Knight, for dinner at Lola’s Café. As you can see, in my unfortunate response to hearing about those pictures, I spilled wine on my shirt. I am going home to change, then to