Shadow of Doubt, page 21
She refused and gripping the safety strap high above her head she took one foot off the gondola. Like an acrobat she pirouetted out of his reach, brushing the tips of his fingers with her free hand as her yellow skirt swirled about her.
The crowd gasped.
Charlie lurched forward again. Grasping for her. This time he nearly doubled over the safety bar headfirst before catching his balance.
My heart stopped.
I turned away. I couldn’t watch. I was certain Amber was going to jump and take Charlie with her.
Misty whispered in my ear. “Remember what I told you, Carol, your energy can change the course of fate.”
“What are you talking about?” I pushed her away and stared up at Charlie. He was white with fear, gripping the bar in front of him. “I don’t need your crazy hocus pocus tricks or your black magic. I need my son to be safe.”
She stepped back and put her hand on my shoulder, the weight of it oddly heavy for her thin fingers. “I know you don’t believe in me, but you do believe in your son. He’s done this exact thing dozens of times. He’s a natural athlete.”
I looked at her, a crazy old lady with glassy white cataracts staring back at me. Around us, the crowd was growing like a feeding frenzy of sharks waiting for someone to fall.
“What are you talking about? He’s never done anything like this.”
“Of course he has, Carol. Think about it.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “That old tree in your courtyard. He’s climbed it, straight up to the top, dozens of times. The last time he did you sent him out to rescue the cat so you could talk to Sam.”
I don’t know how she knew about my conversation with Sam, or Charlie’s rescue of Bossypants, but the fact she did momentarily caused me to glance away from the big wheel and into her eyes.
As I did, I felt a strange sense of calm come over me and a separation from the angst of the crowd around us. It was though it was just the two of us. Her voice almost hypnotic.
“You don’t have to believe in me. But trust your son. He can do this.”
She took my hand and placing it on her chest, told me to block out the negative energy around me, to concentrate solely on her voice.
“Breathe with me. See him in your mind, talking calmly to Amber, just like he did the cat. She’ll respond.”
I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t bear to look at the scene in front of me another moment. I was certain Charlie was going to fall. Trembling, I closed my eyes and clenched Misty’s hand in my own.
“Breathe for me. Slow and steady. In and out. Match the rhythm of my breath. Let my energy guide you.”
I did as she instructed. I took a deep breath. Every fiber of my body was shaking, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. I had to replace the vision in front of me. I needed to see Charlie, healthy and happy, walking into the kitchen, the cat under his arm with that big goofy smile on his face.
“That’s right. Breathe deep.”
My breathing was ragged, choppy.
“Slow it down a bit, and when you breathe out I want you to visualize the cat. See him in the tree, listening to Charlie. Nod for me when you have that picture in your mind.”
I nodded.
I could see Bossypants curled up in a ball on a branch above Charlie’s head.
“Good. Now can you hear the cat?”
I shook my head. Around me the noise of the crowd broke my concentration. I could hear the fire trucks and ambulance on the pier behind me. People talking. I was distracted.
“Try again, Carol. Stay calm. If you’re calm, he’ll be calm. We don’t want him reacting to all this nervous energy. Block everything else out.”
Squeezing my eyes shut I forced myself to recreate the scene until I could see Bossypants in the tree. He was just beyond Charlie’s reach. Charlie stretched farther, his slim arm reaching for him. Here kitty-kitty. The cat resisted, pulling back. He looked as though he might spring from the tree at any moment. A fall would be fatal. Then coaxing him gently the cat inched toward him, purring softy.
“Ah!” A gasp from the crowd broke my concentration. I was too afraid to open my eyes. I gripped Misty’s hand. Did they fall?
“He’s got her, Carol. You can open your eyes. He’s okay.”
Within moments the lights on the big wheel lit up. A kaleidoscope of patterns flashed, lighting up the nighttime sky as the gondolas slowly started back to their load position. I didn’t take my eyes off Charlie, not for an instant. He sat with his back straight up against the chair, the color drained from his face. Amber appeared to be talking. Her lips moving, Charlie’s head barely nodding. He had one arm over her shoulder and his free hand firmly gripped her upper arm. He looked as though he was afraid to let go.
Eric turned to the crowd. Photographers had now joined a growing group of curiosity seekers. He asked them all to step back. A camera flashed in front of him. He palmed the lens with his hand.
“This is a federal investigation, not a photo shoot. I need you all to back up.” The photographer grumbled, turned his back and then shot a quick photo of Amber just before the car arrived at the loading bay.
I waited with Sarah and Misty, our hands clasped together, as the car descended. Eric stepped forward and took Amber from Charlie. She looked deranged, her hair tangled and matted against her head. Gently he cuffed her then handed her over to one of the other agents. The crowd parted as she passed before us, her face hidden beneath the agent’s jacket, as he led her to the waiting ambulance. Within minutes the EMTs slammed the doors, red lights flashed and the fire engine and emergency response unit vacated the scene.
For a moment I couldn’t see beyond Eric’s broad shoulders. I wanted to run up beneath the wheel and grab Charlie, but Misty held me back. Then Eric turned slightly and I could see them both. Eric put one hand on Charlie’s shoulder and another on his head. He appeared to be looking into his eyes, asking questions. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. All I could see was Charlie shaking his head and Eric tousling Charlie’s sandy blonde hair affectionately. Then with his arm around my son, Eric led him back to me.
“He’s fine, just a little shaken up. Why don’t you both go grab something to eat? I need to check on Amber.”
Chapter 29
I put my arms around Charlie and hugged him close. With his cool face pressed against my own I could feel his skinny frame through his sweatshirt, his heart pounding. I kissed his cheek. I could taste the salt air on his skin. His hair was damp with fear.
“You okay?”
He nodded, his head shaking involuntarily. “She confessed, Mom. She killed Clarissa. She killed them all.”
“I know. We need to talk.”
Pulling his hoodie up over his head and with one arm around his slim waist I led Charlie away from crowd beneath the big wheel. I wanted to protect his identity from curious onlookers and paparazzi surrounding us. Charlie looked pale. With his arms tightly crossed in front of him and his eyes downcast, we walked away. Away from what I feared may have been Misty’s premonition. We walked away from the darkness of death and toward the music, toward the tinny sounds of the organ grinder and the waltz of the carousel, toward the smell of popcorn and laughter. Toward life. I wanted to feel the fresh sea air in our faces and the pier’s rough-hewn wooden planks beneath our feet.
“How about we get out of here, find some place quiet to eat? Maybe go across the street for Mexican?” I didn’t care what it was. I wanted to get as far away from the pier as possible.
“Yeah, sure.”
We quickened our pace and were halfway down the pier towards the entrance when I recognized Charlie’s dad and his wife. They were walking in our direction. Rob was pushing a baby carriage and Stephanie had another toddler in tow. They appeared oblivious to anything but each other, totally ignoring the exit of the fire department’s big hook and ladder truck, until it honked alerting them to its presence as it passed slowly by. Only then did my ex look up.
“Hey there Buddy, how you doing?”
Charlie looked at me and smiled. My ex had missed the excitement. We both knew his father was going to have trouble believing the story. Not until it showed up on the late night news would he accept that Charlie had actually rescued Amber Marx from a near fatal fall.
“You ready to go? Your mom said you came down here to see Amber Marx.” He winked at me. He’s growing up, Carol. “Big party, huh?”
I was about to say something, tell him this wasn’t just a big party, but that he very nearly lost his son, when I heard someone calling my name.
“Hey, Carol, wait up.”
I turned to see Tyler running toward me.
“That your son up there?” Tyler was panting, out of breath. “I thought I recognized him with Amber Marx. Lucky kid. You okay?”
My ex looked at Charlie. He had no idea what Tyler was talking about. He put his hand on the back of Charlie’s neck and rubbed it. With his thumb he pushed the hair from his collar as though he were looking for evidence of some amorous affair, lipstick perhaps?
“He’s fine.” I pushed my ex’s hand away from Charlie’s neck and I shot him a look. We’ll talk later. Then I turned to Tyler. “We were just going to grab a bite across the street.”
“Actually, Carol, I was hoping I could get you to come with me. We’re broadcasting live from Papa Shrimp’s. We were covering the party when the ruckus started up and someone yelled jumper. I look up and see Amber Marx standing on top of the Ferris wheel and the crowd below is going wild. Girl looks like she’s about to take a header, and then I see what looks like your son leaning out over the gondola pulling her back in. Since you’re the only one who knows what just went down, how about it? You up for an interview? You too, kid?”
My ex looked at me quizzically. I shrugged my shoulders. Hey, I told you.
There was an awkward silence. Tyler looked at me then back at my ex, and realizing he had interrupted a family moment, attempted an apology. “Sorry to bother you like this, but that’s quite the kid you’ve got there. You must be real proud. That was some rescue.”
I smiled at Charlie.
“I’ll do the interview. You can explain the rest of it to your dad. Best it come from you anyway.” Then turning to my ex, I added, “And next time your son tells you he wants to go to the beach alone at night, call me.”
I followed Tyler back to Papa Shrimp’s. Outside the restaurant KCHC’s promotional team was busy handing out keychains, t-shirts and autographed photos of the on-air staff. Directly inside the front door, cozied up in a corner of the restaurant’s curio shop, was the station’s portable studio.
Tyler patched us into KCHC’s Dynamic Duo, Dan and Deb, and handed me a headset. I listened as they took cell calls from anxious listeners who had just witnessed Amber’s dramatic rescue, describing her lithe body, hanging in the air like a Cirque de Soleil performer, a dancing ballerina, luminescent against the black sky, one hundred and fifty feet above the pier.
Some suggested this was a suicide attempt, based upon the death of her best friend, Clarissa St. Clair. Others were convinced this was just another Hollywood promotional stunt, something for her new movie, The Sorcerer’s Daughter. Interpretations of the event, unlike my own thoughts, were all over the board.
I knew Amber was the killer. I was certain of it, but as to how much I could report on the air without verification of the evidence was going to be tricky. In the public’s eye she wasn’t a suspect. She hadn’t been charged with anything, and right now she looked more like a victim than a villain. I was glad Tyler was doing the interview and I could gauge my response to his questions without revealing everything I knew. I took a deep breath and waited for Tyler to open.
“Folks, I’m sitting here inside Papa Shrimp’s with the mother of the young man who moments ago dramatically rescued Amber Marx from certain death, and who I’m proud to say, coincidentally happens to be our own KCHC reporter, Carol Childs. He’s a real hero, Carol. Am I embarrassing you?”
I glared at Tyler. Where are you going with this?
“You think I’m exaggerating? For those just joining us, let me say, it was Carol’s son, Charlie, who risked his own life to save Amber Marx from a near fatal fall, and let me add, it looked touch and go for a moment. Carol, were you surprised?”
My throat tightened.
With his hand waving for me to respond, he continued. “Come on, Carol, tell us what you know. Was this a suicide attempt, or as some of our listeners have suggested, a promotional stunt? Something to hype Amber’s next film?”
I cleared my throat.
“I can say with absolute certainty I don’t believe this was a stunt of any kind.”
“Then you were surprised to see your son, leaning outside the gondola, nearly falling himself, while attempting to save Amber Marx?”
I paused, closed my eyes and exhaled.
“It’s a vision I’d rather not relive. But no, I had no idea.”
“Excuse me, but do you mean to say that you had no idea he’d be here, or that Amber was in such a state? I mean, it was you who broke the news last night about Clarissa St. Clair’s death, her good friend. Do you think that might have put her over the edge?”
“I don’t know, Tyler. I can only say that I spoke with Amber last night after my broadcast. She called the station to talk. She sounded distraught and overwhelmed; I was worried about her.”
“Did you think she was suicidal?”
“I was concerned that she was alone and depressed, yes, but suicidal, no. We talked and she assured me before we got off the phone she was fine.”
“And yet, suddenly she’s here and with your son, and so are you.”
“Right.” I exhaled. “And believe me no one is more shocked than I am. Late this afternoon I got a call from a source close to Amber who told me she was at the pier and that my son, Charlie, was with her.”
Tyler scribbled “who” on a yellow pad with a big question mark and shoved it in my direction.
I shook my head. Don’t ask. I wasn’t ready to get into it with Sarah Millhouse. I still had my doubts about her role, but now was not the time.
“Is there any reason to believe your son and Miss Marx were involved?
“No. Absolutely not. My son’s a fan. Like a lot of kids. I know he saw a tweet from Amber Marx earlier in the week informing him about the Pier Party. He was down here with friends. Their meeting was accidental. I don’t know anything more than that.”
Even as I said it I wondered, was I right? Was it accidental? Or had Amber fixated on me, like she had Kim LaSalle, because she missed her mother? Maybe she wanted to hurt me through my son. I didn’t know.
“Lucky for Amber she met Charlie. That was quite some rescue. You must be pretty proud.”
“On the contrary, Tyler, I’m overwhelmed. Seeing Charlie up there like that is something I’ll never forget it. No mother would.”
“So let’s get serious. If this wasn’t a publicity stunt, Carol, do you think there’s a connection to the death of Clarissa St. Clair and possibly the Hollywood murders?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot we don’t know yet, Tyler. The only thing we know for certain is that Amber Marx was taken tonight by ambulance to the UCLA Medical Center for observation, and until the FBI has had a chance to question Miss Marx, it’s too early to say what charges, if any, may be filed. I suppose we’ll have to—”
“Stay tuned.” Tyler interrupted, putting his hand on top of mine. The station was about to commercial break. “Carol, I think our listeners know that for the most accurate and up to date information on the Hollywood Murders and Amber Marx’s near fatal fall and the story behind it, KCHC is their number one choice.”
Chapter 30
Sunday morning I was sitting at the kitchen counter. I was still in my robe, sipping my coffee, and trying to wipe the vision of Charlie standing up on top of the Ferris wheel from my mind, when the doorbell rang. It was Eric, smiling apologetically, holding his phone in his hand. He was wearing the same clothes he had on last night, sans the FBI windbreaker. His shirt wrinkled, the collar open, his hair mussed like he’d finger-combed it as he came up the walk.
“I would have called, but my phone died.”
“I’ve heard that line before.” I smiled and opened the door. He was a welcome sight. “In fact, I think that’s how this whole affair with Sam got started. She stood right there and said the same thing.”
He laughed and stepped inside.
“I thought about going back to the marina, to my Sea Mistress, but I wanted to see you.”
“I’m glad you did. I’d hate to think she had something to offer I didn’t.” I stepped closer and put my arms around his neck, then kissed him. We held each other, letting the exhaustion from last night drain from our bodies.
“How’d it go with Amber?”
“It was one of the stranger nights of my career.” He glanced around the room then back at me. “We alone?”
“Unless you count the cat; he’s slinking around here somewhere.”
“I was actually more interested in Charlie. How’s he doing this morning?”
“He went home with his dad. It was his weekend. But after last night, I don’t think he’s much of a fan of Amber Marx anymore. I suspect those days are over.”
“I’d imagine so.”
I suggested coffee and led the way to the kitchen, listening as Eric told me about Amber.
“She was in and out of things last night, not exactly coherent. At least not a hundred percent. At times I thought she was playing a role. She kept talking about a script, maybe from one of her movies. Her conversation, her persona, it was all over the place. Everything changed about her: facial expressions, posture, speech. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
