Not Even Past Read online

  She punched the pillow again. He wondered how cheap the pillows were that a punch sounded like a fist hitting a brick.

  Martin tried to pull something up from his memory. A moment they could lean on together to get her through this. But nothing came. He could remember dinners out and nights in bed. He remembered a few spats, but nothing major. He was always worried that, if they fought badly enough, she’d go back to Donne.

  In fact, when she did leave, he wondered if he had pushed her away. Once the accident happened, those thoughts went out the window.

  “We’re going to go see William,” he said. “And your parents. They need to know you’re okay.”

  Jeanne didn’t respond. She picked up the pillow she’d been punching and held it closer to her body.

  “Once we do that,” he continued, “we’re going to take a ride and get you someplace safe. Where were you before all this?”

  She clutched the pillow tighter and said, “Arizona.”

  He almost asked her if she was in Witness Protection. Decided against it.

  “We can drive there. It’s summer. It’ll be beautiful, scenic, and safe.”

  Jeanne shook her head again.

  “Why not?”

  Her mouth moved, but words didn’t come out. Martin sat forward and the couch groaned underneath him.

  She squeezed her lips together and tilted her head left. Tears filled her eyes.

  “You can tell me, Jeanne. I’m here to help you.”

  “I can’t go back into hiding. As much as I want to. That’s why I came back.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I left because they were going to kill me. I knew too much.” The words ran together like one long compound word. After she was done speaking, her breath came in large gasps. He worried she was hyperventilating.

  “Who? Who’s they?”

  “Back then, it wasn’t a they. It was a him. But he’s powerful. I have to stop him.”

  Martin looked out the window again. The parking lot was still clear. Jeanne’s words were making him too paranoid. But he needed to bring her to see William again, and to get some more answers. She was on the verge of talking, he could see it in her face.

  “Who is that powerful? Who do you have to stop?”

  “The senator,” she said.

  That narrowed it down.

  “Which one?”

  “The state senator,” she said. Her words were slower now. She swallowed. “Senator Stern.”

  Henry Stern. Martin didn’t vote for him.

  “He wants me dead. He has for six years,” she said.

  “Why?”

  Jeanne shook her head, and then pressed it into the palms of her hands. Her shoulders shook, and she fell in to another round of weeping. This time Martin went to her and sat on the bed. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.

  Jeanne let him.

  10 Hours Earlier

  KATE HELD Jackson’s hand.

  It was limp and cold, and his fingers barely wrapped around hers. With her free hand, she rubbed his arm. His eyes were closed. An air mask covered the rest of his face. A soft beeping monitored his heart rate. Kate had no idea how strong the rate was.

  “You’re going to be okay, baby. Help is here.”

  They were in the back of a van, he on a stretcher and she strapped into a bench next to it. Across from her, a man in a white lab coat worked. She didn’t know what he was doing. Some sort of medical procedure, it seemed. There was blood on his coat. He didn’t acknowledge her.

  Senator Henry Stern sat next to him, leaned back, right leg crossed over his left. He watched as if he were admiring a painting.

  “When are we going to get to the hospital?” Kate asked.

  The senator didn’t answer. His right hand rested on his thigh and his index finger tapped against his pant leg.

  The doctor moved his hands, and the speed of Donne’s heart increased. Kate looked at him, but his face hadn’t changed.

  “Let go of him,” the doctor said.

  When Kate was in sixth grade, her grandparents were watching her one evening. Her parents were out to dinner for their anniversary, and Grandma and Grandpa had taken her to Chili’s for a burger. They talked about school and laughed about her role as the parrot in Aladdin, Jr. She promised she would show them a good end-of-year report card when school ended in three weeks.

  The drove her home in their old Chevy, a big car with leather seats and brakes that squealed. The entire ride home, her grandfather coughed. A wet cough, like phlegm had been caught in his chest. Each time Grandma asked if he was okay, he brushed her off. They pulled in the driveway, and Kate jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. As she was reaching for her house keys—her first set, her parents finally trusted her—she heard Grandma scream.

  Kate whirled to see her grandfather on the ground clutching his chest. She called for him and ran. Her grandmother screamed for someone to call 911. Kate hit the asphalt on her knees, scraping them. She kept repeating “Grandpa” over and over. She held his hand. She didn’t let go until the EMTs pried him from her.

  It was the last time she saw him alive.

  Today, she would not let go. She promised herself she wouldn’t. Ignoring the doctor, she clutched Jackson’s hand tighter.

  The doctor asked again. Kate simply said “No.”

  Stern leaned forward, his chin almost touching the stretcher. The heart monitor beeped faster. Jackson’s eyes shot open. His pupils were glassy. His body started to shake.

  “Oh my god!” Kate screamed. “Jackson. Stay with me! Jackson!”

  Stern’s voice cut the noise like a needle through skin. “Do you want him to live?”

  Kate looked up. “Of course. Of course I do.”

  “Then you’ll listen to the doctor.” Stern sat back.

  “Where are we going? We should be at the hospital already.” She kept rubbing Jackson’s trembling arm.

  “We’re taking him somewhere safe. I promise.” Stern rubbed his chin. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him. Now listen to the doctor.”

  Kate stared at Stern, waiting for him to say more. He didn’t. She let go of Jackson’s hand. It dropped to his side, bouncing slightly off the padding of the stretcher. The doctor leaned across Donne’s body and pulled a curtain across the back of the van, cutting her off from her fiancée.

  This wasn’t going to be like the day with her grandfather. She would see Jackson again. This couldn’t be the end.

  Kate buried her face in her hands and cried.

  “I WAS wrong,” she said.

  Martin was still dealing with Senator Stern, trying to fit Jeanne’s words into his head. New Jersey politics were corrupt; they had been for as long as the sky was blue. But this didn’t feel like that. The bruises on her body, the Internet threats. Martin was so focused on that he didn’t hear what she said.

  Jeanne jumped out the bed, and then leaned against it, steadying herself.

  Martin was still in his seat, fingers dug into the arms of the loveseat. He was staring at his glock, trying to keep the room from spinning. When he looked up, Jeanne was at the door to their room. How long had he been staring down for? The shakes in his hands were starting up again.

  “We have to go, Bill.” She pulled open the door. “I want to see William.”

  He wished she’d stop saying his name, like he was a child.

  “What changed?” He looked up. She was wiping tears from her eyes. She was taking deep breaths. She wasn’t shaking.

  “What changed? I started thinking, Bill. I started thinking like them. You’re right. You were right. They wouldn’t find us here. We could stay here until you ran out of money, and they wouldn’t find us. They’re not that powerful. How else could they try to track me down?”

  Martin blinked. He could still see Senator Stern in his brain. His mind didn’t move as fast anymore. Not after a long night and uncomfortable sleep.

  “Even if they didn’t wan
t to kill my parents, they could use them. What’s the only other connection I have?”

  “Your parents,” he said.

  “They don’t know about William. For six years, they thought I was dead. But now—oh my god, Bill!”

  Martin pushed himself off the couch, holstered the glock, and went to the door. Jeanne was already in the parking lot, running to the car. Martin hit the alarm button on his key chain and unlocked it for her. He should be running too, but he couldn’t. His legs were cramping.

  This morning he should have realized it. When he went to the bathroom, his urine was dark yellow. And then he drank coffee. Caffeine? He was dehydrated.

  No time.

  He got in the car and backed out. Pulled into slow traffic on Route 9. If only he had a cherry top police car.

  JEANNE WAS out of the car before he could even put it in park. She dashed across the pebble lawn to the front door. Martin got out of the car, hand on the butt of his gun. He scanned the street and didn’t see anything different from the day before. A few cars parked outside of houses. A few new piles of garbage curbside.

  By the time he got to the lawn, Jeanne was pounding on the door.

  “Mom! Dad!” she yelled.

  “Jeanne,” Martin said. “Shut up. If someone is in there with them, you’re going to get yourself killed,” he said.

  Her fist swung toward the door again, but Martin caught it. His left calf cramped and he grunted.

  Jeanne turned toward him, her lips scrunched together. Tension at her jawline.

  The door opened, and Leonard Baker stood there. Jeanne fell forward into his arms. Her shoulders shook. Leonard’s eyes caught Martin’s. They were watery.

  “Jeanne.”

  “Is your wife okay? William?” Martin’s hand dropped to his side.

  Leonard nodded and pulled Jeanne in tighter.

  “Let’s go inside,” Martin said.

  They complied.

  In the living room, Sarah stood, her arm around William. William had an Iron Man action figure in his hand and pretended to fly it. Martin put his hands in his pockets. Jeanne ran to Sarah and William. She put her arms around Sarah and said, “Mom.” William stepped out of the way.

  For a minute, all Martin could think about was the scene in front of him. Not thugs coming to kill them. Not Jackson Donne. Not the cramps in both his legs. Or the shaking of his hands. Or the weight of the gun at his hip.

  This was the strangest family reunion he’d ever seen.

  SARAH BAKER wanted to make lunch. Ten forty-five in the morning, and she was asking everyone what kind of sandwiches they wanted. She might have to order in, there wasn’t much in the fridge. What did Leonard think?

  Leonard told her to relax, they had time.

  Enjoy this moment. Enjoy every moment.

  Jeanne was on the couch, sitting next to William. He finally put his Iron Man toy down and realized the mood in the room was different. Martin leaned against the far wall and watched, his arms folded in front of him.

  “Who are you?” William asked. The words came out soft and slowly.

  Jeanne looked up at her father. He nodded.

  Jeanne put her hand on his shoulder and just as softly said, “I’m your mom.”

  Sarah put her hand over her mouth and looked at Leonard, who stared at the couch. Martin shifted in his seat.

  William looked toward his grandparents, then back at Jeanne. “Where have you been?” Still soft and slow.

  “I had to run away after I had you. I was in trouble and I had to go away.”

  “Why didn’t you take me?”

  Sarah went into the kitchen and Leonard followed. Martin didn’t move. His feet felt frozen to the carpet.

  Jeanne wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. “Because you were a baby. I didn’t want you to get in trouble too.”

  William sat back and frowned. “Are you in trouble now?”

  Jeanne looked up at Martin. Before he could react, she looked back at William. The kid didn’t miss the glance, though. He stared at Martin.

  “I hope not,” Jeanne said.

  William opened his mouth, then stopped. He looked at Iron Man. “I can protect you,” he said.

  Jeanne couldn’t hold it together anymore. She made a small noise, then wrapped him up in his arms. William didn’t have any choice but to return the hug. Martin stood up and went through the kitchen. Sarah was looking through takeout menus. Leonard was pretending to read the paper.

  Martin went to the backyard, looking across the lagoon. He pulled out his cell phone and called work.

  “You’re not in your office?” Captain Russell Stringer asked.

  “I’m taking a personal day.” Or two.

  “Fishing?”

  Martin looked down the lagoon. A few houses away, someone was unlatching their boat.

  “Kind of. Let me ask you something.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You guys hear anything from Senator Stern’s camp today?”

  “No. Pretty sure he’s busy working on the merger.” Stringer paused. “Wait. What the hell did you do?”

  “See you tomorrow.” Martin hung up the phone and turned back toward the house. Though the kitchen window, he saw Sarah on the phone while Leonard, Jeanne, and William laughed.

  Leonard noticed him and excused himself. He joined Martin in the yard.

  “Thank you for bringing her here,” Leonard said.

  Martin said, “I’m not so sure she wanted to come.”

  “How is she doing?” Leonard asked.

  Martin crossed his arms and looked up at the sky. “How does she seem in there?”

  Leonard shrugged. “Happiest I’ve seen her in six years.”

  “How many times have you seen her in the last six years?”

  Leonard shook his head.

  “I don’t think we can stay long,” Martin said.

  “I know.”

  The man who was working on his boat started its engine. There was a puff of dark smoke, and it sounded a lot like a lawn mower. The boat sailed toward them, and the driver gave Leonard a wave as he passed. Leonard and Martin both returned it.

  “You won’t lose her again, sir.” Sir. Like he was a teenager. He was maybe five years younger than Leonard.

  Leonard kicked at a pebble. “I hope not. Let’s go back inside.”

  Martin followed him back into the kitchen. William and Jeanne were talking about school and the books William had to read for summer vacation. Jeanne seemed to have kept up on elementary school fiction, because she was able to give William just enough details on the stories to get him excited.

  Sarah was on the phone ordering from a pizza parlor.

  “Mom,” William said. The kid adjusted quickly. “What happened to my dad?”

  Jeanne looked up at Martin again. His knees buckled a little.

  “I don’t know, William. Maybe we’ll find out some day.”

  “That would be cool,” the boy said. No follow-up questions. The mob would love this kid.

  Martin excused himself again. He nodded toward Leonard and went out into the living room. Leonard followed after giving William a noogie.

  There was a picture window in the living room that looked out on to their street. Martin gave it a once over and still saw very little out of place. If they stayed here, they’d be endangering the kid.

  His kid. It still sounded weird.

  Of course, at this point, if they ran, he didn’t know how far they’d get or—despite his Arizona fantasies—where they would actually go. Leonard tapped Martin on the shoulder.

  “I want to know,” Martin said, “how you did it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Leonard picked up a framed picture of his family. The three of them were on the beach, in front of the lifeguard stand. Leonard had his arm around Sarah, while Jeanne licked an ice cream cone. The picture was from the eighties and was faded, so the ocean wasn’t deep blue. Leonard placed the f
rame next to another almost identical picture. This time it wasn’t Jeanne, but William in the forefront of the picture. And instead of an ice cream cone, it was a plastic bottle of water.

  “Don’t screw with me, Leonard.” Dispensed with the sir, this time. “I want to know how you faked Jeanne’s death.”

  8 Hours Earlier

  THE CURTAIN was still drawn, and the doctor was still working. But Jackson’s heart rate had slowed to a more manageable beat.

  Kate sat back against the wall of the van, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t speak, and exhaustion hung heavy like a rock in her chest.

  Their speed slowed five minutes ago, meaning they’d gotten off the highway. Two hours from Perth Amboy could have meant anything. They could have gone north out of state, or they could be in western New Jersey or even further south. Her phone wasn’t any help. She wasn’t getting any reception. There was probably something to be deduced from that, but it didn’t matter to Kate. What did was Jackson.

  And no one was talking to her.

  Not that she was pushing the issue. It had taken the better part of these last two hours just to get her emotions under control. She tried screaming at them, asking if he was going to be okay, but she didn’t get any answers. At one point, Stern told her she was distracting the doctor.

  The van rattled to a stop, but kept idling. It snapped Kate back to attention, electricity buzzing through her veins.

  “He’s stable,” she heard the doctor say.

  “Thank god,” she said.

  He wasn’t talking to her.

  “At least stable enough to get him out of the van. It seems he’s developing a very nasty infection. Lots of antibiotics.”

  Stern said, “I will make sure you have what you need.”

  “How long until everything is set up inside?”

  Kate leaned forward. They weren’t at a hospital? Stern should have been bringing Jackson to the best help available. A private practice, maybe.

  The doctor pulled the curtain back. Jackson lay on his back, eyes closed, air mask still covering his mouth and nose. His chest rose and fell steadily. There were two bandages on him, one at his shoulder and another at the side of his chest. A chill ran through her stomach.