The Line Between Here and Gone. Andrea Kane

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СКАЧАТЬ way with an occasional direction from Marc, who was eyeing the GPS. But Claire, who was sitting in the backseat, was finely attuned to the change in Amanda as they neared their destination. She got quieter and quieter, her fingers clasped so tightly together that her knuckles were white. And there was a pained, faraway look in her eyes. She was remembering. She clearly hadn’t been out here since Paul’s disappearance. And the waves of memory were overwhelming.

      Gently, Claire put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked.

      Amanda gave a slight shake of her head. “Not really. I didn’t expect this to be so hard. And Montauk—I’m not even sure I can do it.”

      “Yes, you can—you can do it for your son. Whatever time you need to compose yourself, to work through what you need to—just take it. We have plenty to keep us busy inside the cottage.”

      “Thank you,” Amanda replied softly.

      Marc glanced over his shoulder at Claire and scowled. She knew what he was thinking—that the clock was ticking and that Claire’s advice to Amanda to take her time was absurd. Claire gazed steadily back at him, conveying her certainty that this was the right way to go. If they pushed Amanda, they’d get less out of her. She needed to deal with her emotions. It was the only way this day trip was going to yield any results.

      Reaching the top of the drive, Casey turned off the ignition and sat back, studying the small wood-shingled house with the rocking chair porch. It was a cottage in the truest sense, not the massive estates some of the wealthy locals referred to as their “summer cottages.” It couldn’t have more than two bedrooms and a bath, but it was perfect for a single guy whose career was based out here.

      Even with the van’s windows only slightly cracked for Hero’s sake, you could smell the salty air, a sure indication that the bay was close by. A charming cottage, a good location—clearly, Paul Everett had been faring well.

      “I can see why you and Paul spent most of your time here,” Casey said tactfully.

      Amanda nodded. “The inside is lovely, too. And the place is well maintained, even though it’s fifty years old. Paul got lucky. The owner is a wealthy East Hampton guy who bought the cottage as an investment. He liked Paul. He rented it to him at a great price, especially because Paul wanted it year-round and not just as a summer vacation house. I think Paul would have eventually bought it if…” Amanda’s voice trailed off.

      “Let’s go inside,” Marc suggested.

      Amanda hesitated.

      Casey glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Do you have cell reception?” she asked in a casual tone, as if she didn’t already know the answer.

      Amanda glanced down at the phone that was perpetually on her lap or in her hand. “Yes.”

      “Then why don’t you stay out here for a minute and check in with the hospital? The owner of the cottage told me he’d leave the door unlocked. Claire, Marc, Hero and I will get started while you get an update on Justin. Then, when you’re ready, you can join us.”

      “I appreciate your compassion.” Amanda wasn’t just referring to Casey’s concern for Justin. She wasn’t stupid. She understood that the team was trying to give her the space she needed to prep herself for a painful walk down memory lane.

      “No problem.” Casey’s gaze slid to Claire in the rearview mirror and she gave a quick nod.

      All three team members climbed out. Marc went around back of the van and opened the double doors so that Hero could jump down and join them.

      With a quick lap of his water, Hero scrambled to the gravel drive, waiting obediently while Marc leashed him up.

      “All set?” Casey asked.

      “Ready and raring to go.”

      “Then let’s do it.”

      Amanda watched the FI team head into the house—Paul’s house—and her throat tightened. How many times had she and Paul stepped through that door, sometimes toting grocery bags, sometimes laughing and talking, sometimes pulling off each other’s parkas in their haste to make love?

      Being back here was surreal, like being plunged into a vivid, bittersweet memory and being forced, by one’s own mind, to relive it.

      This was hitting her much harder than she’d expected. After all, she and Paul had been together less than half a year, no matter how intense their relationship had been. Amanda was far from a weak and clingy woman. She’d been on her own since college, and had loved the freedom of her own independence. Meeting Paul had been the last thing she’d expected. Yet it had happened, and, from the moment it did, she’d sensed that her life was about to be changed in a major way.

      Losing him had been unbearable, especially after she realized she was carrying his child.

      But she’d gotten through it and survived. Her life had gone on.

      Except now there was Justin, a precious gift—but one who’d come with a reality she’d never imagined in her worst nightmares. And the unfathomable possibilities were staring her in the face.

      So maybe it was the combination of Justin’s precarious health and her postpartum hormones that were making this walk down memory lane so painful.

      Or maybe it was because she’d so successfully blocked out the happy times and allowed them to be replaced by grief, anger, hurt and resentment.

      Today was going to be one long confrontation with the past. More unnerving than that was the question of what their investigations would uncover. If Paul was alive, what kind of man had he really been? What had he been involved in that he’d kept so well hidden?

      Squeezing her eyes shut for one long, aching minute, Amanda picked up her cell phone and snapped back into the real world—the one she’d been battling for almost a month now.

      Justin.

      She pressed the speed dial number for Sloane Kettering.

      Please, God, she prayed, as she did every time she picked up the phone or walked back into the Pediatric BMT unit. Please let him hold on. Please let us find a miracle.

      And, for good or for ill, that miracle had to be Paul.

      Casey headed up the stone path that led to the cottage. She turned the knob, and, as promised, the door was unlocked.

      The place was cozy and charming—one large and one small bedroom, a full bath, a galley kitchen, a little eating area and a family room with a brick fireplace. The back door opened to a wooden deck and a dense cluster of trees. Not exactly woods, but certainly the foliage offered privacy from probing eyes.

      Hero immediately went to work, snout to the floor, dragging Marc every which way as he took in all the new and interesting scents. He zigzagged through the house, investigating every inch of his surroundings. Marc let him take the lead. The more comprehensive Hero’s olfactory experience was, the better it would be when Marc made scent pads of anything they found that belonged to Paul. Paul’s scent would be that much more recognizable to Hero, which could be a key factor down the road.

      It wouldn’t be the first time Hero had lived up to his name.

      “It’s СКАЧАТЬ