Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [66]
“I can’t believe I did that! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay,” Ellen said, but she glanced up and almost gasped.
Carol had taken off her sunglasses, and in person, the resemblance between her and Will was obvious. She had Will’s sea-blue eyes and creamy coloring. Her lips were on the thin side, like his, and her chin slightly pointed, too. Carol struck her instantly as being of Will, as if Ellen could smell the blood they shared. Stricken, she put her head down, but Carol knelt next to her, gathering apples in her tennis skirt.
“It was my fault. That’s what I get for rushing.”
“No, it was me. I knocked them over.” Ellen collected the escaping apples, flushed with emotion, keeping her face to the floor.
“I was doing too much. I always think I can squeeze in one little errand. You ever do that?”
“Sure.”
“Of course that’s when things go wrong.”
“Mrs. Braverman, let me help you,” a stockboy said, hurrying over in a pepper green smock and checkered Vans. He bent down and corralled some of the apples, his fuzzy dreadlocks falling into his young face.
“Thanks, Henrique.” Carol rose, brushing off a pair of tan, finely muscled legs. “I’m such a klutz today. I hit this woman with my cart.”
“Really, I’m fine.” Ellen rose, looking for the exit, but suddenly, Carol placed a manicured hand on her arm.
“Again, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s nothing, thanks.” Ellen shed Carol’s hand, turned away as calmly as possible, and walked through the produce department and out of the store. She hit the humid air and made a beeline for the rental car. Her eyes welled up behind her sunglasses, and her throat thickened. She fumbled in her purse for the car keys, let herself inside, then slumped low in the driver’s seat.
She sat in the car, staring out the windshield. Cars broiled in the Miami sun, and pink flowers ringed the parking lot. She gazed at them without really seeing them, wiping her eyes and trying to process what she’d seen. Carol Braverman, a grieving mother. She seemed like a nice woman, she seemed like Will. She could be missing the child who was at her home right now, up north.
Ellen thought of Susan Sulaman, haunted by the loss of her children, and then Laticia Williams, bereft. She knew how they felt, and she could guess how Carol Braverman felt. A wave of conscience engulfed her, and she felt awful that she might be causing another woman that sort of pain. Another mother.
His real mother.
She reached for the bottle of water and took a sip, but it was hot and burned her throat. She couldn’t help but feel it was a penance, of sorts.
A swinging white bag drew her attention, and Ellen looked out the window. Carol was leaving the grocery store and hurrying to her car, carrying a brown paper bag, then she chirped the car unlocked, got in the driver’s seat, and reversed out of the space.
Ellen started the ignition, shaken.
Chapter Forty-eight
Carol drove faster than before, and Ellen had to concentrate not to lose her in the heavy traffic. The task checked her emotions and focused her thoughts. Her subjective sense that Carol was Will’s mother wasn’t scientific. She still had to get the proof she needed, despite what her heart was telling her.
The two cars threaded their way through the congested downtown, and Ellen stayed within three cars of Carol, not risking falling farther behind. The sidewalks were packed with tourists in bathing suits and cover-ups, and loud music thumpa-thumped from a convertible. A sleek black Mercedes pulled up in the next lane, and its cigar-puffing driver grinned at her.
Ring! The sound jarred Ellen from her thoughts. It was her BlackBerry, and she kept an eye on Carol as she hunted for the device with her hand, fumbling around in her purse until she located it and checked the display. She recognized the number. It was Sarah Liu’s cell number.
Ellen pressed Ignore and tossed the phone aside. She followed Carol through a fork in the road, then over a causeway,