“I already did.”
“We have privacy rules. When Agnes first joined here, your husband as her guardian signed an agreement. It specifically stipulated—”
“I never signed it,” Megan said.
“Because you have no legal standing.”
“Exactly. And this is Agnes’s room. She wanted the camera in here, didn’t you, Agnes?”
Agnes nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“I don’t understand,” Missy Malek said. “You taped us?”
“I guess I did.”
“Do you know what a violation of trust that is?”
Megan shrugged. “If you have nothing to hide…”
“Of course we don’t!”
“Terrific,” Megan said. “Would you like to watch with us?”
Malek shot a glance at Agnes, then back to Megan. “This is a mistake.”
“Then it’s our mistake,” Megan said.
The images were grainy, not so much because the camera had a poor resolution but because it was set to film in the dark. The first thing to pop up was a still frame of Agnes sitting up in the bed. The camera’s night-vision setting gave the room a spooky green haze.
Though the lens was set on wide to take in the entire room, you could still make out the frightened expression on Agnes’s face. The night vision made her eyes glow white.
There was a play arrow on the still frame. Megan looked back at Missy Malek. Malek looked resigned. Megan clicked the icon.
The video began to run—and it did indeed solve the mystery, but not in the way Megan expected.
No sound was recorded, but maybe that was merciful. On the screen, Agnes was sitting up. You could see that she was screaming, crying. She was clearly terrified. She picked up her pillow for protection. She cowered into the far corner of the bed, trying to escape, pulling her knees up to her chest. She stared up at her assailant, her right hand shielding her face.
But there was no one there.
Megan felt her heart sink. She sneaked a glance at Missy Malek. Her face was still resigned, but not out of guilt or fear. She had known. Megan looked at her mother-in-law. Agnes watched the screen with her mouth opened. At first she looked confused, but through the fog, Megan could see clarity. Agnes could see what was happening. Part of her mind could accept it, but a bigger part simply would not. It was like suddenly telling someone that up was down and left was right.
“He made himself invisible,” Agnes said.
But her heart wasn’t in it.
After what seemed like an hour—in truth, it was maybe two minutes—a nurse rushed on-screen and began to calm Agnes. Megan could see that the nurse had a cup in one hand. With the other, she produced pills. Agnes swallowed them using the cup of what Megan assumed was water. Then she leaned back. The nurse gently tucked her in, waited a moment, and then tiptoed out the door.
A minute later, the recording stopped.
To her credit, Malek didn’t say a word. Agnes stared at the screen, waiting for something else to happen. The screen came alive only one more time. According to the digital clock in the corner, it was about an hour later. Agnes and Megan leaned forward for a better look, but all they saw was a nurse checking up on Agnes.
On the screen, Agnes remained asleep.
That was it.
“You saw him, right?” Agnes said, pointing at the screen. “With the knife? One time he came in with a coyote and a bottle of poison.”
Malek slipped out of the room without saying another word.
“Megan?” Agnes said, her voice so frail.
“It’s okay,” Megan said, feeling a fresh wave of devastation. Damn. What an idiot she was. Hadn’t she known in her heart of hearts what the surveillance would show? Had she really believed a man with a knife (not to mention the occasional coyote and bottle of poison) came in at night to terrorize an old woman? Talk about wishful thinking. Agnes had been the closest thing a woman like Megan—a woman living a lie for almost her entire adult life—had to a confidante and best friend. Today she had learned just how close they had been—that for all these years Agnes had known, if not the truth, something close to it. She hadn’t cared.
Agnes had known Megan better than anyone, and she had loved her anyway.
“You should go home now,” Agnes said in a faraway voice. “You need to take care of the baby.”
The baby. Singular. The human TV had changed channels or at least time zones again. But either way, Agnes was right. Enough. Enough chasing the past. Enough living with lies. Her father-in-law—the late, lied-to-about-age Roland Pierce—had often said, “Youth is but a breath.” True, but so is your twenties and middle age and every stage. It’s pretty much life’s only guarantee.
When had Agnes started to fade away? When would Megan?
She didn’t want to live one more day with the lies.
Megan kissed her mother-in-law on the forehead, holding her lips there and closing her eyes. “I love you so much,” she said softly. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”
She pulled away and started down the corridor. Missy Malek was there, looking a question at her. Megan nodded and said, “I’ll talk to my husband, but let’s start making arrangements for the move.”
“She’ll be happier. I’m certain.”
Megan kept walking through the overdone lobby and passed the cafeteria. The doors slid open. Megan welcomed the cool air, especially after the stifling heat inside. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.
There was still no message from Dave on her cell phone. She felt sad and angry and exhausted and confused. Ray was waiting for her at Lucy. She didn’t want to go. He was part of her past. Opening that door could only lead to unhappiness. It was time to move on.
Ray’s words came back to her: “I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Could she just let that go? And his tone, the desperation in his voice… could she really walk away from that? Didn’t she owe him something? And maybe, in the end, that was what had brought her down. Maybe it wasn’t the chance to relive some bygone youth, but the chance to help someone else find his footing.
She arrived at her car door. As she reached for the handle, something caught her eye.
Megan turned quickly and saw the knife heading toward her.
32
BROOME’S HEART SUNK. “It’s not here anymore.”
He was back at the old furnace ruins with Samantha Bajraktari and the young tech. Cowens had declined to join them this time, so Broome figured that he’d struck out with Samantha.