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“Use your influence, for God’s sake. You’re the richest man in this city, so you shouldn’t sit around here waiting for the police to fumble all over themselves. Do something, Witt. I don’t care who you have to bribe or threaten. Call in the goddamned FBI! Just find my daughter!” Her hands shook as she took another drag on her cigarette.
“They’ve already called the feds—in case she’s been taken over state lines. And I’ll do anything I can to find London, you know that. Believe me, I’m trying.”
“Well, try harder!” She squashed out her half-smoked Virginia Slim in a glass tray. “She might be with Zach,” she said, not for the first time, though at one point she’d defended the boy. She’d been the first to suggest that Zachary was involved, then changed her mind as if the thought were too distasteful. “Maybe Zach’s got her somewhere and this is just a prank…” She must’ve noticed the skeptical expression on his face. “Well, he’s involved, then. You know him, Witt, always in trouble…walking on the wrong side of the law…like his father.”
Stung, Witt held his tongue. The crack about Zach’s paternity struck home, but he didn’t call her on it. He’d never believed, never let himself think for one minute, that Zach had been sired by Polidori. A bitter taste filled his mouth at the very thought. It was possible, but, no, he wouldn’t believe that the boy he’d considered his second son for all these years wasn’t his. But he wasn’t going to argue the point with Kat. There was no reasoning with her now and he had to keep a clam head, no matter what else.
Nelson, his youngest son, looked scared. Witt had never much cared for the boy; at fourteen he was still a scrawny kid who seemed to take after him, but always reminded Witt of his first wife, Eunice. There was something about Nelson that was…odd. Unsettling. “Why didn’t you tell me Zach didn’t come upstairs?” he asked the boy, and Nelson swallowed hard, avoiding his father’s eyes. “You were supposed to be sharing a room.”
“Dunno.”
“Where is he?”
“Dunno.”
Witt let out a sigh and stared at Nelson with an intensity that had made loggers with inch-thick hides squirm. “You know where he is.”
“No!”
“But you know something,” Witt prodded, sensing that the boy was holding back. Hell, what a bunch of headstrong kids he was raising.
“I, uh, saw him leave the party,” Nelson admitted sullenly, looking as if he thought he was Benedict Arnold, for Christ’s sake!
Witt didn’t move. “Leave? When?”
Katherine walked over to Nelson. “It must have been after Witt cut the cake, because I saw him earlier.”
Nelson nodded mutely.
So Kat had ke
pt her eye on Zach. “Was London with him?” Witt demanded, already knowing the answer.
Nelson shook his head furiously, his long blond hair brushing the back of his shoulders. “He left alone, didn’t want to be bothered.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Katherine seemed tense enough to slap the boy.
“I didn’t want to get him in trouble.”
“London’s missing!” she screamed. She was at the breaking point, nearly hysterical, not making a lot of sense. “I don’t give a damn about your brother getting his ass in trouble again!”
Witt stepped between his son and young wife. “We don’t know anything. Not yet. Let’s not go jumping to conclusions.”
“That kid’s always had a mean streak,” Katherine said. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I wouldn’t put it past him to—”
“Enough!” Witt turned his attention on his oldest son, who had watched the exchange with a hint of amusement on his lips. “You think this is funny?” he roared.
“No.”
A muscle ticked in Witt’s jaw. “You act as if you know where your brother is.”
“Probably meeting a girl,” Jason replied, then shrugged indifferently. “He’s always horny. My guess is he’s spending the night with someone he picked up.”
Katherine looked stricken.
“Come on, Dad. Don’t pretend you don’t remember how it was when you were seventeen and horny as hell. Zach just wanted to get laid.”
Witt could barely remember, but he didn’t give a damn. Not now. Not when London was missing.
